by Liza Cody
‘Wait, Eva,’ she puffed. ‘Wait for me.’
So I walked faster and her little legs went like pistons trying to keep up.
‘What she want with you?’ I said.
‘Who?’
‘The lady copper.’
‘Her?’ Crystal puffed. ‘Anna?’
I stopped, and she crashed into the back of me.
‘Anna?’ I said. ‘Anna? You want to watch her, Gremlin. She’s the law. There’s stuff she didn’t ought to know.’
And suddenly I cheered up. Because if there were a few little naughties I didn’t want Crystal telling on me, just think how much I had on her!
Like, I know for a fact that her whole business was started with stolen property. Everyone says so. I seen her myself. She was a dab-hand dipper. If it wasn’t chained to you or stuck down with glue, if it wasn’t nailed to the fucking floor, Crystal would have it in her pocket.
She’d go out begging. Well, truth to tell, we’d go out begging. You know the deal – ‘Got any spare change, mister?’ – ‘Got the price of a cuppa, missus?’ Only, me being the size I was, even as a kid, I wasn’t much good at it.
‘Get a proper job,’ they’d say to me. ‘Get a job down the mines.’ Or the building site. The worst one was, ‘What’s the matter, you run away from the circus?’
But Crystal – well, being little did her no harm at all. She’d stick her hand out and bob up and down like a cork in a basin – all curly mop and freckles – and they’d say, ‘Ah, the poor wee article.’
She was specially good in the rain. And she had this system in car parks – mostly with women. She’d pick a mark with bags to carry, and she’d offer to help. The skill was in picking the right mark – someone in a bit of a fuss. Someone well-dressed but not too dandified. She said the best marks were women carrying books. For some reason, she said, if they read books they were a soft touch. Don’t ask me why. But Crystal was hardly ever wrong. For herself. Me, I couldn’t screw a penny piece out of someone carrying a whole library shelf.
So Crystal would pick her mark. ‘Help with your bags, missus?’ she’d say. And she would help. Ever so eager, she was. She’d help with the bags, and help herself at the same time. She always got a few coins for her trouble, and the mark’d drive off and never find out till later she was missing her purse, her umbrella or a few tins of baked beans.
But being little wasn’t all a bed of roses. Getting the goodies came easy for Crystal. But keeping hold of them was a lot harder. There’s no point having a pocket full of loose change and valuables if someone’s going to bash you and take it off you when you boogie round the next corner. Which is where I came in. I only took my share. And I never bashed her. So she knew I was honest.
Well, I was her protection, wasn’t I? And you got to pay for protection. It’s only right.
A leopard does not change its spots. So don’t you tell me Crystal’s changed hers. If you think she came by all that bric-a-brac she sells off her stall honestly, you’re even stupider than you look. Crystal and her connections! They’re all a bunch of thieves down Mandala Street Market.
It was still pouring down and we were stood there getting soaked which was just as well because I hadn’t had my shower. But a hot shower and cold rain aren’t the same thing, so I found a nice little Vauxhall Astra and drove us home. The heater worked a treat so we warmed up in no time, although the windows got too steamy to see out of and I nearly hit a lamppost at the end of Mandala Street.
Crystal didn’t say much while I was driving but when we stopped she said, ‘You was going to kill me back there, wasn’t you?’
‘What?’ I said.
‘Back there,’ she said. ‘In that house. If Miss Lee hadn’t stopped you. You was going to smash my head in.’
‘Take a pill,’ I said. ‘I thought you was junkies.’
‘Yeah, but you was going to beat crap out of me.’
‘I wasn’t.’
‘You was.’
‘I was only trying to scare you,’ I said. ‘I thought you was junkies and it’s my job to scare you off.’
‘Doesn’t matter,’ she said.
‘Wasn’t going to hurt you.’
‘All right. Don’t yell at me. Fancy a tea, or something?’
‘It’s too late,’ I said. ‘The caffs closed.’
‘Your place?’
‘Forget it.’
‘Only I can’t seem to get to sleep these days,’ she said. ‘Every time I close my eyes I see Dawn with her face all black and blue.’
‘That’s your problem,’ I said. ‘I can sleep perfect.’
‘It’s funny really,’ Crystal said. ‘Dawn, I mean. It’s not really a dream. It’s just when I close my eyes. You know, they kicked her teeth out. She didn’t have hardly any teeth in her mouth when I saw her in the morgue. Her mouth was all sunk in like an old lady’s mouth.’
‘What you telling me for? You know I can’t stand teeth.’
‘Oh, well,’ she said. ‘I thought, seeing as you’re a night animal, y’know, we might stay up and talk.’
‘I got work to do,’ I said. ‘If you want someone to talk to, bend Justin’s ear. He’ll be lonely now Queenie’s at the clinic.’
‘That’s true,’ she said. She got out the car and wandered off up Mandala Street looking pitiful.
I know her tricks. If she wants me to feel sorry for her she’ll have to do better than that. I’m fed up being her mark. Besides, she made my teeth ache.
Chapter 11
The next day Crystal looked better and I felt worse. She’d swapped pitches with a greengrocer and stuck her stall slap bang outside the Premises. I couldn’t believe it when I saw what she’d done. Now she could catch me coming and going. I couldn’t turn round without her seeing. If I burped she’d ask me what I had for dinner.
But what choice did I have? I ask you. I was all cocked up at Sam’s Gym, and I had to have somewhere to work.
Today was Thursday. Tomorrow was Friday. Friday night was fight night. I had to get ready. I had to get sharp and hard. And that wasn’t easy because I had no equipment except a skipping rope.
Skipping rope may look candy-arsed, but it’s cheap and it’s great for footwork and stamina and concentration. I used to think it was only good for girls in a playground, but Harsh showed me different. To skip rope properly you need speed and coordination. You need to be on your toes, and being on your toes keeps your ankles supple and tough.
If you want to be a wrestler you need to avoid ankle injuries. That’s why you strap up and wear boots for support. Turn your ankle, tear ligaments, get a tiny little sprain and you could be out of the ring for weeks. Take my advice – keep your ankles in good nick and they’ll look after you.
The only other piece of equipment I had was me. My own strength, my own weight. You can get a lot done raising your own dead weight. Of course I would’ve been better off with a chin bar or some parallels, but I did what I could with the door frame.
It wasn’t much fun. I like all that shiny steel and the clang-clunk of the weights. I like the bright lights and the mirrors. I like the central heating and hot showers.
In that shop front in the Premises there was barely enough headroom to swing the rope. It was damp and the concrete floor was hard on the feet. The mattress smelled mouldy.
They’ve got sprung floors at Sam’s Gym and the mats are covered in bright red and blue plastic. It choked me off just thinking about it. Those bastards over there had everything and they’d left me with nothing. Them and their fucking python.
Still, it’s no use crying about what you can’t have. I know that for true. In fact it’s best not to want what you can’t have. So I worked up a fair old head of steam with just me own weight and a skipping rope.
I was doing press-ups when the girls straggled in. It looked like they’d come by appointment, only no one had bothered to tell me.
They were all wearing their day-glo fun-run gear and I was glad that this time there was no
one serious around to cop an eyeful. They stood around watching, so I did a few reps on one arm only – just so they knew to respect me. I can only do it with me right arm. Me left’s probably strong enough, but I can never seem to get the balance right.
‘Are you going to fanny around in your pretty colours?’ I said as I got to my feet, ‘or are you here to work?’
‘What d’you want us to do?’ Lynn said. Which was a good question. Buggered if I knew.
‘Warm up,’ I said. I could show them warming up without having to think, which would leave my brain free to figure out what to do next.
They made a ragged circle round me and stood there waiting.
‘Jesus in a jump-suit,’ I said, looking at them. ‘They can’t even stand without looking clapped out.’
‘You just going to lip off?’ Bella said. ‘Or are you going to learn us something?’
‘Shit. I’ll have to start at the beginning,’ I said. I ignored Bella. I mean, what can you do with two inch purple fingernails?
‘Feet apart,’ I said. ‘Not that far apart, Mandy. You’re not going to do the splits. Backs straight. Don’t stick your bums out. Now, flex your knees a little. A little, I said. I’m not teaching you to curtsy.’
I almost started to laugh. They stood there like puddings. Puddings. Sort of wobbly and stodgy. And at that moment, I have to admit, I wondered if my mental discipline was up to the job.
I bit the inside of my cheek. ‘Right,’ I said. ‘We’ll start at the top with necks. Roll your heads around on your necks. One, two, three …’
They couldn’t even get that right.
‘Shit,’ I said. ‘Just do what I do, all right? You got to feel the muscle from your head to your shoulders stretch. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Now the other way, one, two …’
I did necks. I got them wheeling their arms. I did waist rotation and hip rotation. They seemed quite good at hip rotation. But we came unstuck on legs.
All I wanted was for them to stand on one leg and pull the other knee up to their chests. You’d think I was training ’em on a high wire. They all hopped around and fell over giggling. All except Mandy. I was quite surprised about fat Mandy. I expected her to be the uselessest of the lot, but she was the only one who kept her balance.
‘Get the fuck up,’ I said. ‘Backs against the wall.’
‘I can do that all right,’ Lynn said, flopping.
‘Shut up,’ I said. ‘You’re using the wall for balance.’
‘I know, dear,’ Kath said. ‘You don’t have to tell me what a wall’s for.’
I could feel my brain beginning to barbecue.
‘Mandy,’ I said, ‘show ’em.’
So Mandy showed them. And she could do the next stretch, which was also on one leg. That went better, and only Kath with the bosoms fell over.
I didn’t want to push my luck, so I gave up on the stretching and got them running on the spot. For about five seconds.
‘Phew!’ Bella said. ‘Are we finished? I’m knackered.’
I looked at them, gob struck. They were all pink and sweaty. The mascara was running. They were huffing and puffing like they’d done a five mile run. Not a five second jog where they’d scarcely moved their feet.
‘Can’t we do it to music?’ Stef said. ‘It’s so boring.’
‘I’ll get a tape,’ Mandy said. ‘We could do it all like a routine, couldn’t we, Eva?’
‘Could we?’ I said.
‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I’ll show you.’ And out she went – useless fat Mandy – full of go-go-go.
‘Don’t look so surprised,’ Bella said. ‘Mandy did the London Marathon once.’
‘She never!’
‘She did.’
‘Mandy?’
‘Yeah, Mandy,’ Bella said. ‘We weren’t all just born to be “slags”, you know. Some of us done other things. I know you can’t believe it, but there was life before we met you.’
‘But,’ I said, ‘the London Marathon.’ It couldn’t be true. Not fat Mandy.
‘What happened?’ I said.
‘She got older and fatter,’ Bella said. She had a nasty grin on her pan. ‘Women do, you know. They get old and fat and turn into “slags”. You wait and see.’
‘Shut up, Bella,’ Stef said. ‘Tell her proper.’
‘She ain’t interested in Mandy,’ Bella said. ‘She ain’t interested in any of us. She’s just amazed she got one of us wrong.’
‘Tell me, then,’ Lynn said. ‘I ain’t heard about Mandy.’
‘Well, she took up running ’cos of her asthma,’ Bella started. ‘Don’t ask me why, but she said running’s good for breathing.’
‘Running’s terrible for breathing,’ Lynn said. And she lit a cigarette.
‘Shut up and listen. She took up running, and she got really good at it. Joined a club and everything. And one year she qualified for the London Marathon. They gave her a gold medal for finishing. That’s what you get when you finish – a medal and a Mars bar. Something like that.
‘They put her picture in the local paper so she was quite a celebrity.’
And then Mandy herself walked in with a blaster and a handful of tapes. I stared at her, but I just couldn’t see it. She looked like her shell suit was stuffed to bursting with foam rubber and her legs were pillows. She couldn’t run a bath now.
Stef said, ‘Bella was just telling us about the London Marathon and you getting your mug-shot in the paper.’
‘Oh that!’ Mandy said. And she went all pink.
‘Why did you give up?’ Lynn asked. ‘What happened?’
‘Dunno, really,’ Mandy said.
‘She met a fella and got married,’ Bella said. ‘Go on, Mandy, tell us.’
‘Yeah, this fella,’ Mandy said. ‘Robin. He ran too, you know. We was in the same club. He was gorgeous, and ever such a good mover. But he never finished the London Marathon.
‘Well, one night Robin was out training with some of his mates and he got hit by a bloke on a bike. And he broke his leg. And that was that, really, because, even when it mended, one leg was shorter than the other.’
‘You can’t run with one leg shorter than the other,’ Bella said, nodding like she knew all about running.
‘But even before the accident,’ Mandy went on, ‘he’d got really weird. Like, I was working in Woolworths then, and he’d come in sometimes six times in one day. At first I thought it was ever so romantic, but then he’d ask all these funny questions about the customers.’
‘The men,’ Bella said.
‘Right. He’d ask if they looked at me, if they touched me. I thought he was joking, and I’d say, “Oh yeah, he got me behind stationery and took me bra off.” But it wasn’t no joke.
‘And then he wouldn’t let me run in shorts. Even in summer.’
‘I had a boyfriend like that,’ Stef said. ‘I couldn’t even undo the top button of my shirt without he went crazy.’
‘But the worst bit was after the accident. He let me go out training, but he had this schedule for me. He had a map of all the places I was allowed to go and he had a route all worked out. And he had a list of all the phone boxes on the route. And he used to ring the numbers. He had it all worked out. He’d sit by the phone at home with a stop watch. So, like, after twelve minutes I was supposed to be at the phone box on the corner of Dover Road, and if I didn’t answer the phone, he’d get in the car and haul me back home.’
‘What if there was someone else in the phone box when he wanted to ring?’ Lynn asked.
‘I had to wait,’ Mandy said. ‘Because if I wasn’t where I ought to be, when I ought to be, there was hell to pay. He got a bit quick with his knuckles after the accident.’
‘I know what I’d’ve done,’ I said. ‘I’d’ve sealed him in one of his fucking phone boxes and buried it under a ton of wet goat shit.’
Lynn said, ‘What did you do, Mandy?’
‘Nothing.’ Which was typical.
‘I just kept r
unning,’ Mandy went on. ‘And I tried to get to the phones on time. But he kept shortening the times, see. He said it was to help me with my speed.
‘And then one day I sort of broke down. What happened was, I got to the first phone on time. Just. But I was late to the second. Only there was someone there already, so I didn’t know if Robin had already rung, or if he’d tried to ring and got the engaged signal. So I didn’t know if he was on his way in the car ready to drag me home, or if I was supposed to jog around keeping warm till he rang.’
‘So what did you do?’ Lynn said.
‘Well, I started to cry,’ Mandy said. Surprise, surprise. ‘And I started on at this complete stranger in the phone box. I was crying and shouting, “How long you been on the phone?” I can’t think what was going through his mind, with this mad woman in running gear, in floods of tears, banging on the glass, screaming at him.’
‘What did he do?’ Lynn asked.
‘Oh, he was lovely,’ Mandy said. ‘He came out and he was sweet to me. And he got me to tell him what was wrong. ’Course it all came pouring out – about the accident and the phones. He was ever so sympathetic. He really listened.’
‘And then?’
‘Then Robin rang. He didn’t know I was late to the second phone after all. So then, this feller took me in his van to the third phone. So we could keep on talking. And on to the fourth, and so on. All I had to do was run home from the last.
‘Well, next time I went out running, there was the bloke in the van. He leaned out his window and waved a bunch of telephone receivers at me. What he’d done, see, was vandalise all the phones on my training route and collect all the receivers.’
Lynn started to laugh.
‘It wasn’t that funny,’ Mandy said. ‘Not in the end. ’Cos when I got home that night, Robin wouldn’t believe that every single phone on my route was out of order. So he took me in the car and inspected them. And then he gave me a right hiding, ’cos he thought I’d done it, and he suspected I had a boyfriend.
‘And, it turned out, one of his mates actually saw me in this bloke’s van in the cinema car park. Where we’d gone, see.
‘And then he chucked me out of the house – bag and baggage.’
