‘Yeah, I’m cool,’ Leon said, relieved that nothing had happened.
‘Good. Right, well, we’ve got a few things to do,’ Damo went on, ‘but we’re gonna need that other bag, so fetch it down the canal at half-six.’
‘Okay,’ Leon agreed. ‘See you later.’
Happy again, Leon smiled when Damo hung up. It was good to know they weren’t mad at him for not alerting them, but especially nice that they had been concerned about him, because that meant they cared.
16
After a long day in town with Tracey, Mary was laden down with bags when she arrived home later that evening. Shoplifting always gave her a buzz, but where she and Tracey usually targeted things they wanted at the time – like booze, or something to wear for a night out – today’s expedition had been about accumulating stuff they could easily sell on in order to get money for the wedding. She had applied for a loan from the DSS, but there was no guarantee that she was going to get it, and with the day drawing closer she was determined not to have to do it on a budget. It might only be a registry-office affair, but it was her first time and she wanted the full works, from the dress of her dreams, to a horse-drawn carriage, to a massive blow-out of a party afterwards.
She’d nicked a whole load of jewellery – some gold, but most just decorative; tons of bottles of expensive perfumes and aftershaves; and heaps of clothes. She had spread the loot out on the living-room floor, and was happily sorting through it when Chantelle walked in at six.
‘Hey, babes,’ she said, looking up. ‘Where’ve you been?’
‘Round at Immy’s,’ Chantelle lied, noting that Miguel, who was lying on the couch, was studiously avoiding her eye. ‘What’s all this?’
‘Wedding fund,’ Mary told her, grinning happily as she rooted through the still-labelled clothes. ‘Here, these are for you.’ She held out two tops and a skirt. ‘Go and try them on, then give us a fashion show.’
‘Later,’ Chantelle murmured, unbuttoning her jacket. ‘I need to see what’s in for tea.’
‘Me and Miggy are going down the pub to sell this lot; we’ll get something from the chippy.’
‘I’ll just make it for me and Leon, then,’ Chantelle said, eager to get out of the room.
‘He’s out,’ Mary informed her.
‘Where?’
‘How do I know?’
‘Didn’t you ask?’ Chantelle frowned.
‘Why should I?’ Mary gave her an irritated look. ‘What’s your problem? He ain’t a baby.’
‘I know,’ Chantelle replied coolly. ‘I just don’t like him wandering around at night. It’s not safe.’
‘Aw, chill out,’ Mary sneered. ‘He’s tough, he can handle himself. And if he can’t, he’ll have to learn how, won’t he? It’s a cruel world out there – he’s got to be able to fight his own battles or he’ll end up a little wuss.’
Chantelle bit down on the concerns that were still rolling around in her mind. Leon wasn’t tough, he was a kid, and the last thing she wanted was for him to start fighting and acting like a thug, because that was a fast track to ending up in jail. But her mum obviously didn’t share her concerns, and now she was back in control there was nothing Chantelle could do if she allowed him to go off by himself.
‘Go and try that stuff on,’ Mary said again. ‘I wanna see if it fits. She’ll look gorgeous, won’t she, Miggy?’
Chantelle gritted her teeth when Miguel swivelled his eyes towards her. ‘I’ll try them on later,’ she repeated, snatching the clothes and walking towards the door.
‘You’re a right miserable cow, you,’ Mary spat, lighting a cigarette and giving Chantelle a dirty look. ‘I’ve been out all day busting a gut to get the money for the wedding, and I wasn’t just thinking about myself, I made an effort to get something specially for you, an’ all, ’cos I thought you deserved a treat. But there you go again, chucking it back in my face.’
‘I’m not chucking anything back in your face,’ Chantelle protested. ‘I’ve just got a headache, that’s all. I said I’ll try it on, and I will. Just not now.’
‘Yeah, you take your time,’ Mary said sarcastically. ‘Never mind me, you just think about yourself – as usual.’
‘Why are you being like this?’ Chantelle asked, a real headache starting up now. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong.’
‘Apart from being selfish,’ said Mary. ‘All I wanted to do was see if they fit so I’ll know I’ve got the right size when it comes to getting the bridesmaids’ dresses. But no – you’ve got to be awkward about it.’
‘Why didn’t you just say that?’ Chantelle murmured guiltily.
‘Wouldn’t have to if you did as you were told and didn’t argue about everything.’
‘All right, I’ll try them on.’
‘Don’t bother.’ Mary clamped the cigarette between her teeth and shoved the perfumes back into a bag. ‘I don’t even know if I want you there now; you’ll probably only ruin it.’
‘Don’t be daft.’
‘I’m not.’ Mary was unrelenting. ‘You’re a pain in the arse. Nothing’s ever good enough for you, and I’m sick of trying to live up to your expectations. I’m your mother; I deserve a bit of respect.’
‘Respect is earned,’ Chantelle retorted coolly. ‘And it goes both ways.’
Mary gave her a dirty look, and said, ‘Miggy was right – we should just do this on our own and fuck off back to Spain without you.’
Chantelle was starting to feel sick. She’d done nothing wrong, but yet again her mum was having a go at her. And how dare Miguel try to cut her out of the wedding just because she’d rejected him.
Guessing that she’d been dismissed when her mum turned her back to pack the rest of her things away, Chantelle cast an accusing glance at Miguel and went to her room. The tops weren’t her style, but she wouldn’t have been happy to take them even if she’d loved them, knowing they’d been stolen. Still, Mary had tried to do something nice, so she should have at least said thank you.
Sad to have upset her mum again by being thoughtless, Chantelle sighed when her phone started ringing. Surprised to see that it was Rob Knight, she answered with an apprehensive, ‘Hello?’
‘Hey …’ he said, his tone friendly. ‘Hope I’m not disturbing you?’
‘No, it’s fine,’ Chantelle assured him. ‘What’s up?’
‘Just wondered if you were free tonight? Only I’ve spoken to my friend, and he’d be delighted to meet you – if you’re still up for it?’
‘Oh, right.’ Chantelle bit her lip. ‘Yes, I guess so.’
‘Don’t sound too enthusiastic.’ Rob chuckled. ‘He’s only one of the top agents in Manchester.’
‘Sorry, I’ve got a bit of a headache, can’t think straight,’ Chantelle apologised. ‘Thanks, I’m really grateful. When does he want to meet?’
‘Eight-thirty. Sorry it’s such short notice but he’s a busy man, so we’re lucky he had a slot. Anyway, I’ve told him you’re nervous, so he’s promised to go easy on you. It’ll just be an informal drink to start with, so the two of you can have a little chat and see what you think of each other. If it makes it any easier, I’ll be there. Unless you’d rather meet him on your own?’
‘No, that’s great,’ Chantelle murmured, feeling sick all over again.
‘Lovely. We’re meeting at Cloud 23; the wine bar at the top of the Hilton.’
‘The Hilton?’ Chantelle’s stomach was really churning now.
‘Don’t worry, it’s not as posh as it sounds.’ Rob laughed. ‘Just dress to impress, and leave the rest to nature.’
Chantelle pondered that last comment for several minutes after Rob had said goodbye, but she couldn’t figure out what he’d meant by it.
‘Probably nothing,’ Bill said when Chantelle rang and asked what she thought. ‘But don’t worry about it for now. Just get yourself ready, and I’ll pick you up at eight. Oh, and I’ll do the surveillance tonight,’ she added cheerily. ‘I’ve been to that bar, and I shan
’t look out of place sitting off in a corner by myself. Quite looking forward to it, actually; it’s right at the top, and has the most magnificent views of the city. Now run along and make yourself beautiful.’
Chantelle was a little happier to know that Bill would be there to keep an eye on her, but she was still nervous about the meeting. Rob had said it would be informal, but what if his friend took one look at her and asked why she had ever thought she could be a model? It would be so humiliating. And it was all too likely to happen, given how many beautiful women he must be surrounded by day in, day out. Oh, God, why had she agreed to do this?
She shook off the dread thoughts when she heard her mum and Miguel go out, and gazed down at the new clothes. They were quite nice, she supposed; and the blue top would look great with the wedges she’d bought last week. But there was no way she was wearing the skirt her mum had nicked for her; it was way too short and flouncy, and was more likely to make Rob’s friend think she was auditioning to be a pole-dancer rather than a model. Not that she intended to become either, but she had to make it look as though she was being serious, or there was no point going.
Leon quickened his pace when he rounded the bend on the canal towpath and saw the gang in their usual spot by the locks up ahead.
‘All right?’ he said, grinning when he reached them, and holding out his hand to touch fists with Damo.
He immediately knew that something was wrong when Damo ignored his fist, and a flicker of fear sparked in his gut when the others turned and stared at him.
‘Where is it?’ Damo demanded, holding out his hand.
Already shaking, Leon tugged the bag out from under his jumper and passed it over.
Acky had been sitting astride the barrier smoking a cigarette. He flicked the butt into the water now, jumped down and strode towards Leon.
‘’S up, guys?’ Leon asked, aware that his voice sounded squeaky.
‘’S up?’ Acky repeated, peering down at him with a nasty glint in his eye. ‘You’ve got the nerve to ask what’s up after legging it and leaving us to get mashed up, you little rat!’
‘I – I didn’t know what to do,’ Leon yelped, stumbling as he backed away. ‘I was hiding behind the bin, and they were right in front of me. If I’d tried to warn you they’d have got me.’
‘So you decided to run home like a baby and let them get us instead?’ Acky towered over him. ‘You know how fuckin’ many of them there were, do you?’ He jabbed a hard finger into Leon’s chest. ‘Fuckin’ eight, that’s how many. Eight, against me and him.’ He jerked his thumb back at Damo.
‘Damo said you got away,’ Leon cried, tears of fear running down his cheeks.
‘No thanks to you,’ Acky snarled. ‘And quit fuckin’ crying, you little pussy,’ he added, punching Leon in the mouth before seizing him by the throat. ‘I’ve always said you were a liability, and now you’ve proved it. What d’ya think, lads?’ He looked back at his friends over his shoulder. ‘Reckon it’s time to get rid?’
‘Please don’t hurt me,’ Leon whimpered, sickened by the taste of the blood that was seeping from his split lip. ‘I didn’t mean to run; I just didn’t know what else to do.’
‘Well, I know what to do,’ Acky growled, tightening his grip. ‘I’m gonna fuckin’ strangle you, then toss you in there.’ He dragged Leon towards the canal as he spoke. ‘Get me some bricks,’ he barked back at the others when they reached the edge of the bank. ‘I’m gonna mash his face up so no one’ll recognise him when they fish him out.’
‘Don’t!’ Leon squealed, his whole body shaking with terror as he felt the empty space beneath his heels and heard the water lapping behind him. ‘Please, Acky, please … I’m sorry, I’m sorry!’
‘That right?’ Acky jerked him backwards so he almost fell, then hauled him back. ‘Sorry, are ya? Sorry for almost getting us fuckin’ killed?’
Leon was crying freely now, snot running from his nose as tears streamed from his eyes. He’d never been more afraid in his life, and he was convinced that he was about to get his head smashed in. ‘Muuuum!’ he wailed, clutching at Acky’s hands. ‘Muuuum!’
‘Yeah, that’s right, you cry for your mummy like the baby you are,’ Acky sneered. ‘Ain’t gonna get you nowhere, though. Think anyone can hear you down here?’
‘All right, leave it,’ Damo said suddenly.
‘Eh?’ Acky snapped his head around. ‘What you on about?’
‘I said leave it,’ Damo repeated quietly. ‘Get him away from the edge before he falls.’
‘He ain’t gonna fall, I’m gonna push him,’ Acky said nastily. ‘With a fuckin’ brick in his gob to make sure he stays under.’
Leon peered at Damo through his tears and silently begged him for help. When Acky suddenly pulled him clear of the edge and released him, his legs gave way and he fell to his knees, crying, ‘I’m sorry … I’m sorry.’
Damo walked over and squatted down in front of him. ‘You did a bad thing,’ he said quietly. ‘Being part of a crew is all about looking out for each other; all for one, and one for all, an’ all that. That’s why he’s so fucked off with you, ’cos your arse went and you nearly got us killed. Lucky for you, they didn’t catch us, or I’d have let him do for you,’ he went on. ‘But now you’re gonna have to prove yourself if you wanna keep on hanging round with us.’
‘I’ll do anything,’ Leon sobbed, seizing the lifeline that Damo was throwing him. ‘Just tell me what you want.’
‘I had a job for you,’ Damo told him. ‘But I ain’t sure I can trust you no more.’
‘You can,’ Leon insisted.
‘Can you fuck,’ Acky interjected scathingly. ‘He’s a shady little cunt; wouldn’t trust him to pick me nose.’
Damo held up his hand to tell Acky to stay quiet, and peered thoughtfully down at Leon. ‘I’ll give you one last chance,’ he said after a moment. ‘But if you fuck it up, I’ll let Acky have you.’
‘I won’t,’ Leon whimpered. ‘I swear.’
‘Better not,’ said Damo, reaching inside his jacket and pulling out a plastic bag. ‘See this?’
Leon glanced at it. Something was wrapped in it, but he couldn’t make out what it was.
‘I want you to take this home and hide it for me.’ Damo’s voice was low and serious. ‘And when I tell you I need it, I don’t care what time it is, you bring it. Got that?’
Leon nodded, and wiped his nose on his sleeve.
‘You ain’t serious?’ Acky said incredulously. ‘You’re letting him take the gun? What the fuck, man?’
‘Who’s the leader of this crew?’ Damo demanded, his eyes still on Leon.
‘You,’ Acky conceded. ‘But—’
‘Ain’t no buts about it,’ Damo said sharply. ‘I’m in charge, so I decide who does what.’ Then, talking to Leon again, he said, ‘Ever used a gun before?’
Leon shook his head.
‘I have.’ Damo’s eyes held a weird gleam that frightened Leon almost as much as the thought of having to carry a gun home. ‘And I liked it. First time’s always the best; never get a buzz like that again. Now, Acky thinks you’re a bottle merchant, but I’ve always said you had guts, haven’t I?’
Leon nodded and licked his lips.
‘Problem is, I’m not so sure any more,’ Damo went on. ‘So you’re gonna have to prove it.’
‘H-how?’ Leon could barely speak.
‘We’re taking the leader of that crew down,’ Damo told him. ‘And you’re gonna do it.’
‘What?’ Leon’s mouth flapped open in shock.
‘You heard.’ Damo grinned. ‘You’re gonna shoot the fucker.’
‘But I can’t,’ Leon spluttered. ‘I’ve never used a gun; I don’t know what to do.’
‘It’s easy,’ Damo assured him. ‘I’ll show you when the time comes. For now, you just take it home and sit on it. Unless you ain’t got respect for us?’ No longer smiling, he drew his head back and stared at Leon. ‘’Cos if you ain’t, you already know too much,
and we won’t be able to let you go. So what you sayin’?’
‘I’ve got pure respect,’ Leon croaked, sure that he was about to piss himself. ‘I swear.’
Damo carried on staring into his eyes for a few moments, and then nodded slowly. ‘We’ll soon find out, won’t we? Now, take it and go home.’ He shoved the package into Leon’s hands. ‘I’ll call you when we need you. Don’t let me down.’
‘Or you’re dead,’ said Acky, cocking two fingers and miming shooting Leon through the head.
As Damo and the others walked away, Leon rose unsteadily to his feet and carefully slid the package inside his jacket. It felt heavy as he began to walk slowly in the opposite direction, and he was terrified with every hesitant step that it would go off and shoot him in the stomach.
Chantelle was on her way out when Leon arrived back at the flat. She was standing in front of the hall mirror when he let himself in, giving her hair one last spritz of hairspray.
‘Oh, you’re back, are you?’ She gave him an unimpressed look when he shuffled towards his room with his hood up and his head down.
‘Get lost.’
‘Don’t you dare talk to me like that.’ Chantelle slammed her comb down on the table and placed her hands on her hips. ‘I’ve been looking after you for weeks, but now mum’s back you think you can backchat me. I’m sick of it!’
‘You ain’t my boss,’ Leon snapped. ‘Just get off my back and leave me alone. And you look like a whore,’ he added, giving her a dirty look before slamming his door in her face.
Chantelle gritted her teeth and balled her hands into fists. If she’d had more time she’d have called off tonight’s job and stayed here to have it out with Leon. But Bill would already be on her way, and she couldn’t just leave her boss sitting there.
‘Right, I’ve got to go out,’ she shouted through Leon’s door. ‘But we will be having that talk, so make sure you’re here when I get back.’
When they reached the Hilton, Bill went in first and Chantelle waited a few minutes before following. Her stomach was churning as she rode the lift up to the bar at the top, but when she stepped out and saw the view through the bank of windows that greeted her it took her breath away. As Bill had said, it was incredible; she could see lights and buildings stretching out for miles and miles.
Respect (Mandasue Heller) Page 17
