by Karen Woods
THE GRAFT
KAREN WOODS
EMPIRE PUBLICATIONS
MANCHESTER
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Wow... 20 novels later!! Thanks to all my readers and the people who have supported me. Firstly, let me thank my lovely husband James for always being there and supporting me throughout my writing career. He is a special man and I love him now and forever; me and you forever kid! Thank you to Teenage Works and the staff and pupils there. Each of them has been inspirational to me during writing this book. Thanks to my children Ashley, Blake. Declan and Darcy and all my grandchildren.
I have already started my 21st novel called Hot Flush so watch out for that. Thanks to John and Ashley at Empire for nurturing my talent over the past 9 years and the ever-vigilant Caroline Burch for proofreading my work.
www.evolvemanchester.co.uk
www.karenwoods.net
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My last thanks as always goes to my son in heaven Dale xxx
My brother Darren is never far from my thoughts when I’m writing you are my Angel always love and miss you every single day our kid... love you always xxx
Love,
Karen
The book is in memory of Darren Woods (Woody) a legend always
CHAPTER ONE
Tony Clayton stood back from the rain-soaked windows scratching vigorously at his nuts. His greasy matted hair was stuck up all over the show like the eighties TV character “Worzel Gummidge”. He could have done with a good scrub, sheep-dipping in fact.
Tony stretched his arms above his head as he looked out over his surroundings. His fingernails were long and discoloured with dark brown grit lodged deep underneath the nail bed. He smirked and scraped the crust from his dry cracked lips. “Another day in paradise,” he whispered under his breath. The dark grey clouds hung low in the sky above him and it looked like it was going to hammer it down. Manchester’s weather was crap and every day for the last few days it had been pissing it down; grey skies, dark nights, depressing weather.
Tony Clayton loved living on the tenth floor of a tower block and he always told everyone he could smell a rat a mile away living where he did. He was on the ball, always prepared for any prick who thought they were booming his front door down to stab him up. And many would, they’d do him in if he owed them money or they had a beef with him. These men would batter him within an inch of his life; scar him and stab him up, but Tony was smart. He never told anyone where he lived, and he always kept his head down when the shit hit the fan. He was a coward who would run a mile at the first sign of trouble. The life he lived was a colourful one. He was always ducking and diving and watching his back, but when he put his neck on the line every day and dabbled in the drug world, what could he expect?
Everything came with a price. A good arse-kicking was just one in a long list of occupational hazards for Tony Clayton. He was always rubbing somebody up the wrong way and it was only a matter of time before he would end up in a body bag. He was a shady character for sure, and no one could trust him as far as they could throw him. He’d have your eyes out and be back for the sockets given the chance. Tony was lucky to still be alive, truth be told. He’d had a fair few beatings over the years. He’d had his teeth knocked out, got several black eyes and had his nose broken many times, but it never deterred him from earning a few extra quid. He’d been stabbed up and even put in a boot of a car; yet he still carried on the life he was living. He was brain-dead and never learned his lesson. His best friend Mickey was just the same. He was another double-agent.
Tony had promised his family that he was going to sort his head out and get a job but that was just pure bullshit. He was a great liar – he’d just kept chatting shit to keep them off his case. He’d lied for so long that he wouldn’t know the truth if it hit him full in the face. He lived in a fantasy world. It was the safe place in his mind where he could see a life without any problems; no crime, and no more drugs.
Tony had led a good life when he was younger but that was so long ago that he’d forgotten what it felt like. Back when he was a young lad and wet behind his ears, he’d often tell his mates about how he could have been a professional footballer. It was true too; he was shit hot back in the day. His parents supported him and everyone who knew him thought he was set for stardom. What went wrong? Why wasn’t he rolling in cash and living the high life? What happened to his dreams, his future, his football career?
Tony rubbed his knuckles into the corner of his eyes and scanned the area. He was knackered and ready for bed. This was the first time he’d been home in days. He had been on another drug binge, chilling with his mates, smoking crack, injecting heroin, popping pills. When he was in this mind-set he didn’t give a flying fuck about anyone or anything except getting twisted and off his napper. They could all just fuck off pecking his head and leave him alone. He got wrecked and put all his problems to the back of his mind. Nothing mattered when he was spaced out. Tony had a head full of shit going on in his life and every now and then he just needed time on his own to chill-out and find peace and quiet away from his missus and his kids. Man-time he called it, with no nagging from her indoors. No pressure, no moaning, just him and his drugs. Tony scanned the area as he sucked in a large mouthful of crisp morning air. All was quiet for now and there was nothing for him to worry about. His beady eyes flicked one way then the other, he was safe, but it was still early, just after nine o’clock in the morning. The Post Office mob should be up soon, queuing at the doors waiting to cash their weekly benefits. The ‘Monday Club’ was well known to everyone who resided there. Fuck the bills and whoever else they owed money to; they were getting drunk on whatever money they had. Debtors could whistle; they weren’t getting a carrot.
The Monsall Estate never really came to life until night time. Everybody was still getting some shut eye, recovering from the night before. There were few residents who worked on the estate and everyone thought they were stupid for getting up at the crack of dawn when they could have laid in their pit until all hours and still get paid for it. It was a no-brainer in their eyes. Riding the system was the way forward: disability benefits, universal credit, money for being sat on your arse all day doing nothing. Tony jerked his head back and spat out a great big ball of green phlegm from the back of his throat over the balcony. It spun for a few seconds before it dropped to the ground. He’d spent many an hour here bored, doing the exact same thing. It kept him entertained for hours. If he had a target to aim at it was even better. An old man, a dog, a kid, anything. They all made great targets. Tony dragged his bony body back inside the flat as he shivered, goose-bumps appearing over his pale grey flesh. Tony was full of spots and pimples. He had oily skin and hadn’t had a good scrub in a long time. He was a soap dodger for sure. The doctor had told him he had scabies, but he’d never applied any of the cream that had been prescribed. He just kept thinking it would get better on its own.
He pushed the door open and went back inside his gaff. The place stank of stale cigarettes and wet dog. He was coughing and spluttering and looked like he was going to collapse. His chest was rattling like an old boiler. He plonked down on the sofa and sat with his head in his hands. “Fuck me,” he mumbled under his breath. Small beads of sweat trickled down the side of his face. His body was rattling for drugs again; he was craving the heroin he’d been injecting into his veins for as long as he could remember. He was a silly bastard and he knew it; he could have kicked himself for ever letting himself get involved with the drug world. He only tried smack for a buzz at first. He was young and foolish and wanted to impress his mates. Everyone was doing it and he wanted to see what all the fuss about. Okay, he was young and naïve, but somebody should have warned him what he was getting into, but nobody did.
Why would they when he was putting money into their pockets, helping them to get a new motor, and aiding them to live a nice cushy life with a few quid behind them. He had been young and foolish. It only took a few toots of the gear to get him interested in heroin and before he knew it the brown had got a firm grip of him and made him a prisoner.
Heroin was his master now and no matter how hard he tried, the drug still ruled his every breath, his every movement. As soon as Tony opened his eyes each morning it was there, calling his name, commanding him to feed the habit. He’d tried a million times to get clean, but it never happened. It was so hard, and he just couldn’t do it. He always told his family that when he had enough money he was going to go into rehab and go cold turkey but to date it was just another dream that he had floating around his head, more bullshit even he believed.
Frank, the red-nosed pit-bull waddled over to his owner and placed his head next to his leg, nudging it, slapping its chops. He was craving affection just as his owner was. Tony lifted his eyes up slowly and swallowed hard as he looked directly into his pet’s conker coloured brown eyes. His fingers ran over the deep cuts above Frank’s eyes as he let out a laboured breath. “Messed up, again didn’t I, son? I thought you could have taken that other dog down and earned us a few quid. What happened to you mate? I thought you were ruthless. I’ve seen you before ripping other dogs apart. You are a warrior,” he smiled at his four-legged friend and raised his eyebrows high. “Look at the Jack Russell you savaged the other week in the park. You ragged it all over the fucking show. Threw it up in the air you did. Leathered it in fact.” Frank looked at his owner and tilted its head slightly. Maybe it did understand what he was saying, maybe it didn’t but for now Frank was the only one Tony could talk to about his problems, the only one he could pour his heart out to and the only one who wouldn’t judge him. Tony swallowed hard, snivelling. His head shook slowly as a ball of emotion strangled his windpipe. Regrets about the choices he’d made during his life came flooding back. He picked up a medicine bottle off the table, popped a few more white tablets and threw the bottle behind him. “I can’t do this shit anymore, Frank. Look at the state of this gaff. We’ve got nothing, not a pot to piss in,” he gripped the dog’s face closer to his own and rubbed his head along the animal’s ears. His voice was low. “Go on, tell me where my next fix is going to come from, tell me where I’m going to get some money to make things better? The ball and chain will be up out of bed soon and fuck knows what I’m going to tell her. You know as well as me that she’ll go ape when she’s knows I’ve got no money left. She’ll pack my stuff again and I’ll be carted from here. My arse will be kicked right to the kerb.”
Frank plonked down on the floor next to him and started to go to sleep. One quick lick of his ball bag and Frank was ready for shut-eye. No one was listening to Tony, not even his four-legged friend. Tony lay down on the sofa and looped his arms behind his sweaty head. He froze and held his ear towards the door. He could hear movement in the house and so quickly closed his eyes. The dragon was out of her pit and on the war path. If she saw him asleep maybe she would leave him to get a bit of kip before she kicked off and caused blue murder. He rolled on his side, hid his head underneath the pillow and made no movement whatsoever.
CHAPTER TWO
Elsie creaked open the living room door and stepped inside with her hands held firmly on her hips. Her temper was bubbling, and her cheeks were bright red, she was fuming. She stood looking at her husband lying on the sofa and snarled. What a waste of space! The moment he opened his eyes she’d one bomb him and make sure he was aware of what he’d done. The bullshit just rolled from this man’s tongue and she didn’t believe a word he said anymore. It was just one lie after the other; bullshit, bullshit and more bullshit. Elsie thought she could save Tony when she’d first met him, she thought they could help each other to have a half decent life. His family life at home was horrific when he was younger, and he had mental scars for sure, but it never worked out. He always had an excuse why he couldn’t change but he’d never really tried to turn his life round. Her relationship with her husband was toxic and they rarely had a good word to say to one another anymore. He made her blood boil and she couldn’t stand the sight of him half of the time. Her marriage was on the rocks, but she still stayed by her husband’s side.
She knew that she should have left him years ago and found a life of peace and tranquillity. She knew she didn’t need him and that she could get by on her own, she’d done it before and she could do it again. Yet here she was looking at her sorry excuse for a husband sleeping off yet another bender…
Yanking her black leggings up her waist she stormed over to where he was lying and prodded her fat finger deep into his rib-cage. “Oi, cheeky bollocks. You better wake up now and get your scruffy arse out of here. Do you think I’m some dickhead who will let you take the piss out of me?” She stood over him, waiting for any sign of life but he didn’t move a muscle. Elsie hovered for a few seconds, her fists gathering into two rounded balls. She was ready to punch his lights out. Elsie was a scrapper, a rough bird who’d had her fair share of heartache. She’d had to fight all her life and she’d learned a long time ago that she had to toughen up if she was ever to survive in the world she lived in with Tony.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and shook her head. What was the point? It was just more extra stress that she didn’t need in her life. Her nerves were shattered. He’d probably say it was all her fault, turn the tables on her and make her feel like shit again. The best form of defence was attack and Tony had this down to a tee. He knew how to make her feel guilty when she kicked off with him. He always played the victim. Elsie backed away and sat down in the chair facing him. She spoke in a clear voice and made sure he could hear every word she said. “I’m not arsed anymore Tony. I’ll sit here all day until you wake up and then you’ll be gone from here for good. You better have the money you owe me too, because if you haven’t, I’ll scratch your fucking eyes out. You’re a cheeky bastard. A liberty taker.” She froze for a few seconds and studied him, but there was nothing, no sign of life. “What kind of man are you? You left me with nothing; no money, no cigs, no fuck all. You’re a selfish bastard who only thinks about himself. How do you expect me to feed the kids when I’m skint?” She sat back and gritted her teeth tightly together. She was getting angry. “No, this isn’t happening anymore. I’m done with you Tony Clayton. It’s the last straw. I’m better off on my jacks than with a wanker like you. You’re sucking every bit of life out of me. I’m drained with you every bastard day.” Elsie wiped a tear that was rolling down the side of her cheek. She was emotional and couldn’t take much more of the life she was living.
Emily walked into the living room and sighed as she clocked her father sprawled on the sofa. She spoke in a sarcastic tone. “So, he’s back then, is he? Where has he been this time?” Emily sat down on the ragged carpet and looked over at her mother for an answer.
Elsie growled as she looked over at Tony. “Oh, he’s not said a bleeding word yet. I’ve just got up out of bed and found him here, asleep. He probably sneaked in early this morning. He’s a rat, a low-life twat. I swear, I’ll cut his fucking balls off when he wakes up. This is far from over.”
Emily rolled her eyes and pulled her grey t-shirt over her chubby pink knees. “It’s freezing in here mam. Is there any heating on or what?” Her mother let out a laboured breath and shook her head just like she always did when she’d let her daughter down. It was so unfair. She was trying her best to get on top of things but every time she thought she had things in order, Tony messed them up. It would take her weeks to get straight again. He was a selfish bastard, there was no other word for him. Elsie ragged her hands through her hair in desperation. She had to answer her, admit to her daughter that she’d messed up again.
“Don’t you think I don’t know it’s cold. It’s that cunts fault over there,” she pointed her finger over at the body on the sofa. “He’s spent the money agai
n, just like he always does when he has a few quid in his pocket.”
Emily opened her eyes wide. “So, we have no heating? Brilliant, just brilliant. I’ll have to freeze, then won’t I? What about having a bath, I stink?”
Elsie was losing the plot, she’d already told her the answer, was she thick or what? “No, we don’t have any fucking heating. Emily, don’t you start pecking my head too. Don’t you think I’ve got enough going on with that prick over there without you adding to it? Just turn it in and shut up for five bleeding minutes and let me wake up properly.”
Emily rested her chin on her knees and looked around the front room. The place was a shit-tip, clothes were all over the show and dirty dishes were left on every available surface. No wonder she wouldn’t let any of her friends come round, it was a disgrace. Emily yawned and rubbed at her cold legs with her flat palm. “I’m going to Jane’s,” she said rolling her eyes. “At least I’ll be warm there and she’ll let me have a nice warm bath. I’m just as fed up as you are mother, so don’t take your mood out on me. He’s the one in the wrong, not me. Sort him out and tell him straight that you’re not putting up with it anymore.”
Elsie dipped her head. She was aware that she’d let her kids down. She was at the end of her tether and knew her husband was dragging her down with every day that passed. She replied to Emily in a softer tone. “I’m sorry. I’ll sort it out later. I’ll get a borrow from Tina or something. Just leave it with me for now. You know I always pull something out of the bag when we’re up shit-street.”
Emily stood and walked towards the door. “I’m going to get ready,” she paused. “Mam, we need to sort him out. Every week he’s like this. Why can’t he just be normal and go to work like everyone else’s dad? He’s an embarrassment. Honest, I’m ashamed to even say I’m related to him.” Elsie sat twisting the empty space on her fingers. The gold band was gone, and you could see she was missing the small piece of jewellery that used to be there. The wedding ring was in the pawn shop again. Twenty quid she’d pawned it for, enough to keep her family afloat for a couple of days. The living room door closed, and Elsie just sat staring at her other half. Her eyes clouded over, and she knew she would have to find a way to put some food on the table for her children. Maybe, if she got lucky down the shops, she could lift a few items to sell. Anything but sell her body, she’d never ever do that again. Then again most of the security guys knew her by face and she’d be watched like a hawk from the moment she stepped inside the store.
