by Eddie Allen
“Nearly got you,” he laughed. “Are you OK, Eddie?” he asked me.
My younger brother was playing in the snow. He had actually built a snowman and it was pretty good.
“Yeah, not too bad.”
“Did he hurt you a lot?” he asked.
“Yeah, I suppose so. Have you seen my tennis ball?”
“It’s over there, Ed,” he pointed.
“Cheers. See you later,” I closed the gate behind me. I was strolling around the streets in the snow. I glanced at the church clock. It’s only half past eight; no one will be out yet. I headed towards the sandpit, entering through the gate. There was not a soul in sight. I cleared the snow and sat on the wall, eating my bread and cheese, thinking that I didn’t care if I was alone. At least I’m safe from him, that’s all that matters. After I had finished my grub, I lit a fag up, even though all my fags were squashed from last night’s attack. I should have taken them out of my jeans pocket before I jumped in bed. I sat there, rolling the fag gently between my fingers trying to straighten it out as I smoked it. The silence was broken by a large van spluttering along as it tried to cope with the damp, cold weather. The van ground to a halt outside the sandpit gates and out jumped this guy wearing a cap and a green coat with a roll-up hanging from his lip. He walked to the back of the van and pulled the shutters up and, as he did so, he glanced over and winked at me. I smiled back.
“Wanna earn a few shillings, lad?” he shouted.
“Doing what?” I asked.
“Come over here and I’ll show you.”
I didn’t know it at the time, but this guy was going to be my saviour.
“My name’s Laurie,” he smiled.
“Eddie’s my name,” I said.
I looked into the back of the van. There were rows and rows of basket-type shelves, with apples, oranges, pears and every vegetable you could think of, along with sacks and sacks of potatoes.
“I deliver fruit and veg on Sundays. I start at nine and finish about lunchtime. Do you wanna give me a hand?”
“Yeah, I’d love to, Laurie.”
“Great. Sack of spuds to number nine, then.”
I picked up a bag and delivered it to number nine, along with some carrots, cabbages, onions and parsnips. This went on all morning, until the van was empty.
“Bloody good grafter, you are son,” he remarked as he handed me two one-pound notes. “What do you do on Saturdays, Eddie boy?”
“Play football with my friends. Why?”
“I could do with a lad of your calibre. Do you fancy a Saturday job?”
I didn’t even hesitate; my reply was a resounding yes.
“Good lad! My fruit and veg shop is in Rye Lane market. Be there Saturday at six in the morning, OK?”
“Absolutely,” I said, all excited.
Laurie dropped me off in Lyndhurst Way. It was half past one. After school tomorrow I’m going to buy myself a watch before I go round to see Rose. I’m going to need one now, I grinned to myself.
I don’t mention much about my school days; they’re best forgotten really. I hated school. My reports were bad, well, I really mean atrocious. I would get marked down in everything except religious education, wood-metal work and physical education. Everything else was a red-inked E-grade! I wanted to tell someone, anyone, how my violent father beat and abused me, but I was too scared. I couldn’t concentrate on my lessons. To be honest, all I was interested in was survival. Ever since I can remember, it was me against the world. Even to this day, I have nobody to turn to when in need. The words you’re big enough and ugly enough to sort your own problems out still echo in my ears from when I was a young boy.
As I approached the back gate, I could hear his drunken ravings in the kitchen. I was tired and hungry. I stood there for a few moments and then decided not to go in. Instead, I walked round the front and headed towards Brian’s house. As I knocked on the front door, I could hear Match of the Day on their television. The power-cut must be over, I thought. Auntie Joyce opened the door.
“Hello, Eddie,” she smiled. “Come in. They’re watching the football. Brian, it’s Ed,” she shouted over the roar of the match. As I walked in the front room, the pair of them were stretched out on the sofa.
“All right, son? Sit down.” Dave pointed to the chair.
“Just started, Ed. Chelsea v West Ham,” Brian informed me.
“Great,” I said. I disappeared into the sofa. So soft and comfortable. Joyce walked in.
“Ten minutes,” she beamed. “Then I’ll dish up. Do ya want a bit of dinner, Eddie?” she asked with a smile. “There’s plenty to go round.”
“Of course he will, Mum,” was the response from the both of them.
“Yes please, Auntie Joyce. If that’s OK,” I replied eagerly.
“Where the hell did you get that jumper from, Eddie?” Dave laughed hysterically, shaking his head in disbelief.
“And what’s that sticking out of your socks?” he roared.
“It’s all I’ve got to keep me warm. The plastic bags keep my feet dry.” With that remark, Dave got up and pulled my pumps off. “Bloody hell, Ed. How long have you been walking about in those?” he asked sympathetically.
“About a year, maybe more,” I mumbled in total embarrassment.
“Take them off, Ed,” Dave ordered.
I did what I was told and took the bags off my feet. I must admit to really liking David. Good as gold, that guy; always looked out for me.
“Mum, can you bring in that bag of clothes under the stairs, please?” David asked. Brian stared at me, quite shocked; his eyes were full of sadness. He didn’t say a word. He just sat there watching the show. Joyce entered the room carrying a large bag.
“Have a look at this, Mum,” Dave held my pumps aloft with his fingertips.
“Good God. Lino over the holes?” she looked at me with a tear in her eye as she opened the bag. Dave stuck his hand in the bag and pulled out a pair of pumps.
“Try these on, Ed,” he handed me the pumps. I slipped my feet into them. “Blimey, they fit,” I said, all excited. “Thanks, Dave.” Meanwhile, Dave proceeded to pull out three jumpers and two Ben Sherman’s.
I gasped. “Are these for me as well, Dave?”
“I’ve got something else you can have as well, Ed.”
He ran upstairs and came straight back down with an overcoat. “I’ve just bought a new one and a lot of other new clothes. Mum was going to give them to the Oxfam shop in Rye Lane,” he said with a caring smile. “Stand up then, Eddie. Let’s see if it fits,” Dave beamed. “That’s my good deed done for today.” I looked over at Brian; he had a smile on his face as he winked at me.
“Right, Ed, All you need to do now is to get rid of that gross jumper,” Dave said. He handed me a black Lacoste jumper with a crocodile motif on the front. In my excitement and eagerness, I completely forgot about my throat. I pulled my jumper over my head and it wasn’t until I was pulling my arms through the jumper that I realised my mistake. Dave and his mum stood staring at me with their mouths open.
“Who the hell did that to you?” David blasted angrily.
“Put your jumper back on, Ed, Auntie Joyce demanded. “This one wouldn’t hide that.”
Brian got up and had a look at my throat.
“Your old man did that, didn’t he, Ed? The cut on your eye, and your swollen face, that wasn’t done in Rose’s garden, was it? And all the other times over the years? The split nose and stitches to the head? What’s going on, Eddie?”
“How long has this been going on,” David said. He screwed his face in anger and disbelief. I stood there in silence, all confused. I can’t tell them anything. The consequences would be catastrophic.
“My brother jumped on my back. I was mucking about, giving him a piggyback and he squeezed his arms too tight around my neck. That’s all, honest!” I said. I shrugged my shoulders and sat back down, staring at the telly. Joyce left the room and returned with some cutlery and plates and laid them o
n the table.
“Sit down, boys. Dinner’s ready.” We sat there, waiting in silence. You could have cut the atmosphere with a knife.
“Sorry for what I said about your old man,” Brian said.
“That’s OK, Brian. Forget it.”
“Yeah, we got a bit paranoid for a minute,” Dave laughed.
“Sorry about the match on telly,” I said, apologetically.
“Didn’t miss much, anyway. I was at Stamford Bridge yesterday and the Hammers beat us 1-0,” Dave said in disgust.
Was I glad that was over? I must be more careful in the future.
Joyce brought in the Sunday roast with all the trimmings and thick gravy. We all started to tuck in. I was starving and emptied my plate before you could say Jack Robinson. During dinner, I told them about my new Saturday job in the market.
“I know Laurie,” Joyce mentioned. “Nice fella, he is. You’ll be alright working there.” She then looked at Brian and pointed out that maybe I could get him in there later on. He didn’t look too enthusiastic about the idea as he raised his eyebrows and nodded his head.
After dinner, which I must hasten to add included suet pudding and custard, we sat stuffed watching The Golden Shot with Bob Monkhouse and the sexy Ann Aston on the box. Halfway through the show, I felt my eyelids getting heavier and heavier and then I was gone. I wanted to stay awake to see Bull’s Eye but to no avail. I was awoken by the sound of barking. The next door neighbour’s dog was in the garden having a go at a cat sitting on the fence. I looked round and saw Brian, Dave and Auntie Joyce all in the land of nod. They were obviously used to the dog next door. I got up and put my crombie on and picked up my bag of clothes. I leant over Brian and gave him a gentle shake. He opened his eyes.
“I’m off now. Can you thank your mum and brother from me?”
“OK, Ed. I’ll see you in school tomorrow,” he said sleepily and promptly fell back to kip.
I left Brian’s and walked home, carrying my goodies. The snow had melted and left behind a dirty grey slush everywhere. The street lamps shone in the darkness, casting shadows in every direction as I approached the back gate to the house. All of a sudden I heard my name being whispered in the distance. I glanced over my shoulder, thinking it was one of my friends but I couldn’t see anyone. I turned round in the direction of Lyndhurst Way and, to my horror, he was standing there staring at me. I dropped my bag in the wet slush and froze with fear. He stood there motionless; his large hat casting a shadow over his face. What did he want with me and why the silence? Say something, anything, so I can deal with it. But nothing! Not even a movement. For a few moments, we both just stood there, staring at each other. A car skidding as it turned into my street broke the silence. I watched the car skid in the icy slush and hit the kerb at high speed. There was a loud bang as the tyre exploded on impact with the kerb and the car came to a grinding halt. Two men jumped out, swearing like mad and ran off, leaving the car abandoned. My eyes went straight back to where he was standing, but he had vanished again.
“What is going on?” I said, out loud. I picked up my bag and opened the gate. I walked up to the back door and entered the kitchen. I noticed that it was only eight forty, according to the clock on the wall.
“You’ve decided to come home, have you? Come in here, boy,” my mother ordered. I sat down in the living room and got the third degree. After explaining about Laurie, my new job on Saturdays and the clothes Dave gave me, she remarked, “Good, that’ll save us a few bob if you can pay your way. Have you eaten?” she asked.
“Yeah, I had dinner round Brian’s.”
“OK you’d better get yourself ready for bed. You’ve got school in the morning, and be quiet. Your father’s asleep. He’s on early shifts this week,” she reminded me. I crept quietly up the stairs to my bedroom and sat on the bed admiring my new jumpers. I was well pleased. When I get my wages next week, I’ll treat Dave and Joyce, I thought to myself. I reached under my mattress and pulled out my Shoot! Magazine. I propped myself up on the pillows and started to read. I was in the middle of reading last week’s report on Chelsea v Leeds when I had a sudden urge to have a fag. I put the magazine down and jumped up. I switched the light off and gently opened the bottom sash window. The freezing cold wind came hurtling into my room. I quickly put a fag in my mouth and hung out the window; the cold air stung my cheeks and made my eyes water. My lighter clicked and my fag was alight. I rested my elbows on the sill and proceeded to puff away, staring into oblivion. I wondered what Ann was doing right now? I doubt if I’ll see her much this week; she’ll be revising for her exams. Why the hell didn’t I go to the same school as Ann, I fumed. My train of thought stopped abruptly at the sound of raised voices across the square. A man and a woman arm in arm were staggering across the street. They were very drunk and extremely loud. I flicked my butt away and pulled the sash down. I hid my lighter and fags then climbed into bed and soon drifted off to sleep.
***
“Over here.”
“Where?”
“I’m over here, you idiot!”
“I can’t see you. I know you’re there but I can’t see you. Show yourself to me.”
“I’m right behind you, Eddieeeeee.”
I spun around but I still couldn’t see anything.
“Where are you?”
“Right here next to you.”
“No you’re not. Where are you? Stop hiding and stop playing games with me.”
“This is no game,” the voice said, angrily. “Over here, I’m over here, look you fool!!”
Eyes wide with fright, my head twisted frantically left and right trying to see some invisible horror stalking me.
“Have you no eyes? Can’t you see me? Look! Look deep into your soul. Then and only then will you see and know who I am,” the voice cried.
“I still can’t see you. Who are you and what do you want with me? If you don’t tell me, I’m going home.”
“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! You aren’t going anywhere.”
His laugh sent shivers down my spine. It was so dark, I just couldn’t see him, however I could smell him now. A disgusting stink engulfed my nostrils.
“You’re in my domain now and I’ve got you, do you understand?”
“No I don’t. Show yourself, you coward!”
“Coward! Who are you calling a coward, you little prick! Come and find me, I’m just over here.”
I looked over my right shoulder and in the distance I saw some sort of large lizard or snake curled up with its head upright, looking at me. It had fangs like a vampire and a hideous grin.
“Can you see me now?” it said as it rose up out of its curled-up body, spitting. It started to change its form. All of a sudden it had a large hat on and the body was covered in a long overcoat. The reptile had transformed itself into him, right before my very eyes.
“I’ve been looking for you for a very long time,” he screamed. He advanced incredibly fast to where I stood rigid to the spot. His face was full of sores; maggots and worms wriggled out of his nose, eyes and mouth. His skin was wrinkled and bloodstained and when he pressed his face against mine his breath stunk; I felt nauseated. He opened his mouth to expose a large set of fangs. His eyes were black and lifeless. I screamed and sat bolt upright in my bed, sweating and shaking. My heart was pounding so fast that I couldn’t breathe properly. Was it a dream or was it reality? I wasn’t completely sure.
***
I swung my legs out of the bed and sat there with my hands cupped over my face. After a few moments, I stood up and rubbed my eyes. Still shocked and distressed, I drew the curtains and the morning light entered my room and filled me with a false sense of security. I clumsily staggered towards the bathroom. I was sitting on the bog when the door handle started turning vigorously.
“Who’s in there?” my sister shouted through the keyhole.
“I’ll be out in a minute. I’m just having a crap,” I shouted back.
“Charming! Hurry up, will you? You’re not the on
ly one who’s got to get ready for school,” she said sarcastically.
I quickly washed and brushed my teeth and unlocked the bathroom door.
“Cheers!” she said, charging past me like a rocket and then slamming the door shut. Girls, I thought. She’d be in there for half an hour, that’s for sure. I went back to my bedroom and changed into my school uniform. I headed downstairs to the kitchen.
“There’s toast on the table and a boiled egg in the bowl. Take only one piece of toast and one egg, Eddie,” my mother ordered.
“OK, Mum,” I said disappointedly.
I folded the toast in half and cut the egg up to form half a sandwich. I sat there munching, taking my time over it. I knew I wouldn’t be eating anything else till one o’clock. After I had finished, I got up and had a glass of water. As I put my glass on the drainer, there was a loud knock on the back door. I reached over, opening the door.
“You ready yet, or what?” beamed Tony.
“Yeah, give me a second,” I turned round and grabbed my blazer that was hanging over a chair and shouted out to my mother. “I’m off. See you later.”
“Your father wants you in straight from school,” my mother informed me.
“What for?” I moaned.
“He just does, so make sure you’re home.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The assembly hall was full to the brim with every pupil sitting cross-legged on the floor. I pointed out to Tony that there was room at the back of the hall and we shuffled through the mass of kids and plonked ourselves down on the floor. I sat there with my arms cupped around my legs. I was the only one who didn’t cross their legs. I couldn’t. If I did, everyone would see the holes in my shoes and I would be the laughing stock of the school. The teachers stood on the stage, waffling on about exams and the dos and don’ts of the tests. The Headmaster had just started to recite his daily sermon when a loud bang sounded behind me. The noise made quite a few pupils jump, including me. A vast cloud of smoke circled above my head and the smell of sulphur consumed the hall.
