Breaking East

by Bob Summer

  As usual, the sun didn’t shine long. It sheeted down all the way back to the caff and I dripped onto the welcome mat.

  ‘Jesus, Atty,’ said Joe. ‘Why didn’t you give us a ring and I’d have come to pick you up on the bike?’

  ‘I wanted to run. I have to get in shape, remember?’

  ‘Well I’m going to have to stick a mop up your jacksie. Look at the mess you’re making.’

  ‘I’m touched by your care and charm, Joe.’ I stamped my feet and shook my head like a dog. ‘There. Happy?’

  His mood had darkened since I’d left him and, rather than throwing me a party, he poured two mugs of tea and carried them to the table by the door. ‘Got anything for me?’

  I told Joe all I’d heard from the wives ― the relevant bits, anyway. He’d never been into blue toes as far as I knew. ‘It sounds like this last bunch coming out on the Early Release are proper evil gits.’

  ‘Yeah, well. We’re going to have to identify them, keep an eye out.’

  ‘I’m more worried about the cage. They’re fixing it up to turn the electric back on.’

  ‘Fixing a few holes doesn’t mean it’s going live.’

  ‘We’re heading towards a lockdown.’

  ‘Lockdown? Where did that come from?’ He knew how I felt. My mum would have died for nothing if they locked us in again. He looked me in the eye. ‘That’s never going to happen.’

  ‘This Red told me …’

  He sucked air in through his teeth. ‘You’re not supposed to be drawing attention to yourself, Atty. I told you before, if you want to go pro you need the Reds to not see you, know what I mean? You shouldn’t gossip to them like they’re your mates.’

  ‘I wasn’t gossiping. I was gathering information. He told me new laws were coming in.’

  ‘He said there was going to be a lockdown?’

  ‘He didn’t use that word, no.’

  ‘So, you took two and four and made twenty-five?’

  ‘No. There was a journo hanging about. Reporting on the riots was the official line.’

  Joe chuckled. ‘Riots?’ He sat back in his chair, relaxed. ‘It’ll probably come to nothing.’

  ‘Maybe, but that journalist looked too well-fed to be the honest sort. Besides, you said you wanted to know anything I heard of interest so I’m telling you.’

  He smiled in that way he always did when he wanted to humour me. ‘Of course. You did good, Atty. Thank you. But you can’t believe everything you hear. How did the class go?’

  ‘Don’t change the subject. And I’m not stupid.’

  ‘Never said you were.’ But he looked at me like I might be. Smirking, winding me up. Testing me.

  ‘Can’t you stop those oldies waving their stupid banners about? It’s not like there isn’t enough other stuff to worry about, the cage and loose cons all over the place.’

  ‘Atty,’ he said. Oh here we go. A lecture was coming at me for sure. He forever banged on about the good old days before the country went bankrupt, the Great being in Britain, one country, one capital, one set of laws with one police force, the NHS, blah de blah. ‘Those oldies, as you call them, are standing up for what they believe in, the right to a voice, to protest peacefully. It’s what the resistance movement is all about and you want me to stop them? If I help suppress the right for people to voice their opinion then we might as well give up now.’

  Of course, when he put it like that. ‘Even so,’ I said, ‘things won’t stay peaceful if there’s a freaking lockdown. Especially if they lock those scummy cons in with us. We have to do something. Before long there’ll be more ex-cons than us native westies. It’s like West Basley IS the prison.’

  ‘We need to pick our battles.’ He put his massive arms on the table, leaned towards me, and gave me a long look. ‘Just because they’ve been locked up by the Law, doesn’t mean they’re necessarily the bad guys. You know that as well as I do.’

  I sat back in my chair. ‘Don’t move in on me like that.’

  He kept staring.

  ‘Stop it. What’re you doing?’

  He smiled. ‘Just thinking the apple didn’t fall far. You were born to be an activist, Atty. Just learn some patience. Your Dad would be proud of you, you know that?’

  ‘Yeah maybe so, but he’d want me to do more. I’m wasted just listening, you know it. And now I’ve finished that stupid course, how long before I can work on a proper project?’

  ‘Your turn will come, Atty. I promise. Your papers aren’t even through yet.’

  ‘But if they do lock us down I’m going to be stuck here forever, aren’t I?’ I pulled the whine out of my voice and lowered my tone. ‘I need to get out of here.’

  He blinked slowly before taking a deep breath. ‘You can’t rush these things. And if you think you can hurry me along by claiming lockdowns are in the offing you can think again.’

  ‘So you don’t believe me?’

  ‘I’m saying one passing comment from a jumped up Red means nothing.’ He stood and strode away to the backroom. Conversation over.

  I stood up and headed out the door without calling goodbye. He cheesed me off when he got all protective. He put the boys my age out to work on real jobs but because I’m a girl and my dad’s kid to boot, he wanted to keep me wrapped up and cosy. Well if he didn’t play fair soon I’d find another movement to join. As soon as my adult papers came through I intended to be away, get out of the west, out of Basley and make my mark elsewhere, with or without Joe’s blessing. Somehow, maybe, I’d find my dad and we’d both stroll home with money in our pocket and the knowledge and clout to get things done - make proper changes.

  On the way home I dropped by Bastion Square to say ‘Hi’ to Mum. It had been almost six years since the Law had beaten her to death and I wasn’t the only one that couldn’t forget her. People round our way have long memories. A splash of colour rested at the base of the monument - forget-me-nots. ‘Who keeps bringing these to you, Mum?’ Crouching down talking to a patch on the ground might seem weird to some, but I’ve never cared too much about what people think. ‘They’re extra pretty today, must be the light in the raindrops.’

  I chose my words carefully. Mum reckoned that for me to do as well as she hoped, I’d have to learn to talk BBC-speak like an old-fashioned newsreader; definitely no foul language. It’s the only thing I recalled her asking of me so I intended to make sure I kept to it. From the day she got killed, I’ve never dropped an ‘F’ or ‘C’ type word, no matter how pushed. I rearranged the flowers, bunching them together to pretty them up, opening the bow a little wider - yellow ribbon, nice touch.

  I don’t bring anything. I don’t stand and pray, kneel, kiss the ground or weep into my sleeve. My dad had reckoned she wouldn’t like any of that. All I do is drop by now and then to let her know life’s treating me okay. That, she’d appreciate. And to tell her I’m happy. After all, it’s what she’d fought and died for.

  Chapter 3

  The rain stopped but the purply clouds hung heavy and dark. I looked forward to getting home and curling up with the cats and a decent cup of Hot Blue. Joe’s black market tea left an after taste like stale pee. Blue Juice hardly fitted the rock-chick image I liked to go for, but innocent indulgence and all that. I ran down the disused train tracks - fast - three sleepers a stride. I lived in an old train carriage parked in a tunnel under the M4; nobody could call it a palace, but I called it home and it suited me, scruffy but solid: unique but cosy.

  Joe had tried to persuade me to move in with him, but facing Joe in his boxers every morning didn’t appeal to me in the slightest. He must be at least fifty – no exaggeration. He shaved his head to try and hide the fact he was balding and still tried to carry off a young-buck swagger. All that was embarrassing enough, but there was always a steady stream of middle-aged and desperate women sniffing about. I didn’t want to see them either, scurrying the landing in their knickers. Besides, I liked the freedom of living alone.

  Fran was waiting for me on
the steps. I hadn’t seen her in a while and she didn’t look great.

  ‘Hey, how’re you doing?’ I gave her a half hug. ‘Ugh, sorry I’m all soggy. Why didn’t you go on in and wait in the warm?’ The Law paid regular visits, smashed their way in if they had to, so leaving the door open saved me the trouble of building a new one every month or so.

  She shrugged. ‘Manners I suppose. Knocked into me from birth.’

  I studied her face to get a feel of what she might be thinking. She’d had it rough as a kid and been beaten about a fair bit, but it was rare she mentioned it. ‘Everything okay, Fransie? It’s not like you to be so gloomy. What’s happened to all that chirpy optimism? You know, all that cheery joy that irritates the hell out of me?’

  ‘I’m okay.’ But her smile was a little too slow in coming and a little too weak when it got there.

  ‘Sit yourself down, I’m just going to get out of this wet stuff and we’ll have a girly chat, yeah? Where’s the bubs?’

  ‘I’ve left her with her daddy for the evening. He goes out often enough. It’s my turn. I wanted to come and congratulate you on finishing your course.’

  ‘Ah cheers. You’re a pal.’

  After my shower I got dressed into some dry and comfy clothes. Many a time Fran had been the one who came round and talked all night, laughed and cried with me when I got down about my dad. Too many times she’d picked me out of the gutter, tucked me into bed and hugged me until I slept. Now it looked like she might need me and I was determined to be a good mate. I called to her from the kitchenette, my head in the fridge. ‘What are we drinking? Hot Blue? And nibbles? Do you fancy something to eat? Or shall we go out? My treat.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  I grabbed a bottle and a bag of snacks. ‘We haven’t had a night in, just the two of us, since you had Stacey.’ Her boyfriend didn’t let her out often, a bit of a knob-head as far as I could make out, but she said he was enough. And people like Fran were happy to settle for enough no matter how many times I told her she deserved better. It was her life, her choice. Keeping on might have cost us our friendship so I’d learned to shut up. After all we’d been friends forever. Fran used to come around my house when we were little kids and we’d play warriors and princesses. Calling us close friends didn’t quite cut it. We still played and fought with the confidence of sisters. Not something to be chucked away lightly.

  She smiled at me. ‘How’s Gavin?’

  ‘It’s not happening, Fran. I told you. He’s a player and I’m not up for getting messed about by the likes of him.’

  ‘You could always play him. He’s fit, right?’

  Just thinking about Gavin made me squirm in my seat. ‘Yeah, he’s fit.’ One whole night we’d had together - one. I thought I’d found my man for life. He’d treated me kind and didn’t push for more than I wanted to give, but the next day he went back to his easty girlfriend like I hadn’t happened. Then he came sniffing around again.

  Fran chewed her lip. ‘But it’s definitely all over with him and that easty girl for good this time, right?’

  ‘So he says.’ I flapped my hand in a dismissive gesture and lowered my voice to mock Gavin’s husky tones. ‘Ah, Atty hunny. She meant nothing. It’s only ever been you I want.’ I snorted and finished the Blue out of my glass.

  ‘Well?’ she said. ‘It‘s probably true. How many cross-river relationships do you know that last longer than five minutes?’

  ‘I don’t care.’ I sounded proper sulky. ‘It’s rubbish, Fran. Jeesh. No way am I letting him near me again. He’d say anything to try and get me into bed. No more guys for me – especially, no more Gavin.’

  She shrugged. ‘Shame. You’d look so good together. You deserve to be happy.’

  ‘Please let’s not get all Aunt Agony about it. I know, let’s not talk about it at all, eh?’

  So we didn’t, we chatted about all other sorts of nonsense but not Gavin. I told her about the class and my putting the self-defence instructor on his backside. She laughed until she cried.

  Later, when we’d drank and ate a little too much junk, and we lay stretched out, belching, she looked at me real hard. ‘Thanks for being such a good mate. I love you, you know?’

  ‘Shush now, Fran. You’re getting carried away with the moment. A full belly always did turn you all soft and emotional.’ I grinned. ‘And the tunnel trance of course.’

  There’s this atmosphere in the tunnel at night. The blackness is dense, total, and it feels like nothing else exists. Many a secret has been exchanged in the sort of surrealistic vacuum. It brings out the weirdness and rawness of people more effectively than any drug of choice, even the local ubiquitous lemondrop.

  She shook her head. ‘It’s not just that. I’ve always wished I could be more like you, do you know that?’

  There is a skill to taking compliments and I don’t have it. They make me fidget and blush. ‘Well I’ve always wished I could be more like you. You with your long blonde hair, cute little bum.’ I looked down and slapped at my thunder thighs. ‘You wouldn’t want to be me.’

  She shook her head and turned to look out of a window at the dense blue-black beyond her reflection. Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh I would. I so would.’

  ‘What’s up, Fran? Tell me.’

  A single fat tear ran down her face, she wiped it off her jaw and sniffed. ‘Life’s just pretty grim sometimes, that’s all.’

  I curled up next to her, my head on her shoulder. ‘Nothing is ever so bad.’ I reached to steal her last crisp thinking she’d shove me away and we’d laugh.

  She watched me eat it and said, ‘I’m not so sure.’

  Chapter 4

  Dreams of Gav kept me awake and angry. Fran had lifted the lid at the memory of that night. The guy had left a stain deep inside, and it throbbed, niggling away at my resolve. He was fit all right. And sometimes even I needed a bit of company.

  The dead-of-night-silence made my thoughts difficult to switch off and the rats had stopped scurrying under the carriage long before I finally went to sleep.

  A text from Joe woke me: I have a job for you. My head felt thick with too many unsaid words and my mood refused to lift. If Joe wanted to put me on another poxy listening-to-wives-prattle job I’d have to tell him to stick it. I loved Joe but he needed to accept I was a big girl now and give me some big girl jobs.

  When I arrived at the caff, I felt well fired up for putting him straight. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘You wanted a job? I’ve got just the thing. It’s perfect for you.’

  ‘By perfect I suppose you mean it’s safe and cushy.’

  He pursed his lips and tilted his head. ‘Mm. Might be safe, might even be cushy, but it comes with enormous responsibility.’ There were a few kids sitting drinking tea at a table in the window, wasting away the morning. Joe gestured for me to go through to the backroom where all his serious deals went down. ‘It’s also a way for you to earn a good reputation for yourself,’ he said and closed the door behind us.

  That’s what I needed. Nobody ever saw me as Atty, just my parent’s kid. ‘What do I have to do? I hope it gets me out.’

  ‘Not right out of Basley, but it’s based over east. There’s a couple of kids that need keeping an eye on.’

  ‘Babysitting?’

  ‘Not exactly. The boy, Stuart, he’s a year older than you.’

  ‘So what does he need me for?’

  ‘He’s a regular east-side kid,’ said Joe as if it explained everything. It kind of did in a way. Easty kids tended to be a lot less street savvy. If they had a problem, they threw money at it. If that didn’t work they were pretty much snooked. Joe checked the water in the kettle he kept on a tray in the corner. ‘Their mum isn’t around at the moment and he and his little sister have been left home alone. People up high are worried the Law might get twitchy. You know how quick they are to move in on under-occupied houses at the best of times. Two easty kids alone would be really soft targets.’

  ‘What about the
dad?’ I asked. ‘And what people up high?’

  ‘The dad’s around but remarried.’

  ‘But he can still look out for them. Besides, what’s so special about these kids to get you involved?’ My imagination was already running ideas around. Either the mum must be taking part in something dodgy somewhere or Joe was on a wind-up and trying to make me feel important.

  Joe sighed. ‘Atty. How many times have I told you? It’s this constant questioning and wanting to know every damn detail which is holding you back. You’re given a task so just go and do it. It’s not your place to question why. And this is a request from very high, directly from the top ― M. Gee, no less. Nobody questions her orders. Ever.’

  He wasn’t wrong there. M. Gee had enough money to run the resistance for many years to come. Not only did she keep the finances in the black but she ran some major projects. A big player. Ruthless but fair according to her reputation. If I wanted promotion, she was the right woman to impress.

  I looked at Joe hard. ‘You’d better not be lying to me.’

  ‘No. I’m not but it’s probably best you don’t know any more than I’ve already told you. Stop you reading too much into nothing.’ He kept a straight face and looked fatally serious. ‘If you get this right you will definitely be on the fast track to some major jobs. Outside.’ He handed me a thin file. Inside were two photos and an address. Both kids looked smelly rich but cute. ‘Get it wrong and you’re in deep, deep shit.’

  I looked into Joe’s eyes, he meant business. He’d listened to me and he’d found me something worth doing. I just needed to get the job done right. ‘Okay, but I need to know what I’m looking out for.’

  ‘You need to make sure Stuart looks after his kid sister and doesn’t get himself into any trouble. Without him knowing you’re there of course. It should be a doddle - yes, safe and cushy, but like I said, if all goes well and the mum gets back to happy kids, M Gee might pick you for all sorts of jobs in the future.’ Joe picked two mugs out of the cupboard to put next to the kettle.