Rosie disagreed with this. She clung on to her sister. ‘We should tell Mum, Gracie. Charlie would get told off then, like we do when we’re naughty.’
Charlie stared long and hard at his youngest sister. ‘You say one word, Rosie, and I swear, I’ll chop Britney up in little pieces.’
Gracie hugged the by now hysterical Rosie. ‘She won’t say a word, I won’t let her.’
Charlie looked at Gracie and laughed. Still clutching the knife, he walked back inside.
Gracie waited until he was out of sight, then she kneeled down and held her sister’s hands. ‘Listen to me, Rosie, you musn’t say anything about this. Charlie’s evil … you don’t know what he’s like. He will kill our ponies if we tell on him, I know he will. Promise me you won’t tell Mum or Dad?’
Rosie nodded. She couldn’t risk Britney being hurt, plus her sister was older and wiser than she was. Surely she knew best?
Debbie stood at the front door, unable to find her keys. She was an hour later than she’d intended. She’d got very drunk with Bev and lost track of time. Thank God Steve’s car wasn’t home. He’d have killed her for leaving the girls. Finally locating the door key, she unsteadily let herself in.
‘How’s my big soldier and my two little princesses?’ she slurred.
Charlie shot out into the kitchen. Huddled together under a quilt on the sofa, Rosie and Gracie glanced at one another. ‘Remember what I said? Don’t tell,’ Gracie whispered.
Debbie staggered into the room and smothered the girls in kisses. ‘What have you two been doing? You’re not still watching Oliver, are you?’
Before they could answer, Charlie walked into the room carrying a large tray. ‘I’ve been taking good care of them, Mum. They’ve driven me mad with that film, though. ’Ere you go, girls,’ he said, smiling at them for Debbie’s benefit.
Gracie and Rosie looked at their brother in disbelief as he handed them a plate of turkey sandwiches. ‘Are you hungry, Mum? Shall I make you something?’ he asked politely.
‘No, I’m fine, love.’ Debbie was smiling as she left the room. Steve was so wrong about him. He was such a good boy, and more than old enough to baby-sit the girls.
‘I’m off to bed now, Mum. Night, girls.’ Charlie grinned as he walked up the stairs. He’d noted the terror in his sisters’ eyes. There was no way they’d be grassing him up. He opened the door and flopped down on his bed. If he turned down the volume, he could watch one of his special films and text Lois again at the same time.
Lois sat on the edge of her bed and switched her phone off. She debated whether to tell her mother about the disturbing messages she’d been receiving all day, but decided against it. Her mum was best friends with her Auntie Debbie and she was determined not to cause any trouble between them. She’d tell her friend Gemma instead. That way she wouldn’t cause ructions between their two families.
Lying back on her pretty pink quilt, Lois was filled with worry. The first few texts she’d received had been pretty strange, with Charlie referring to them as a couple and asking to meet her for a date. The last three had been far worse. Disgusting, in fact. She hadn’t answered any of them and had no intention of doing so. How dare he text her asking to suck her titties? She was utterly revolted by the whole situation.
Determined not to spoil what was left of Boxing Night, though, she brushed her long hair and put it back into a ponytail. She’d only ever been in Charlie’s company on Christmas Day in recent years so hopefully had another year before she must face him again. Trying to erase her worries from her mind, Lois wandered downstairs to watch telly with her mum.
In life people never know what’s just around the corner for them. As hard as poor Lois sat there that night, trying to convince herself that everything was going to be okay, her fate had already been sealed.
TWENTY-EIGHT
‘THAT’S MY SON you’re slagging off, Mickey. Who the fuck do you think you are?’
‘A father who’s protecting his kids, that’s who I am. And I’m telling you, Debs, I don’t want that boy of yours anywhere near my Lois, you got that?’
‘You’d better not be threatening me, Mickey. Your little fucking hangers-on might be shit-scared of you, but I’m not one of ’em. Now do me a favour, will ya? Don’t ever fucking contact me again. I don’t wanna see or hear from you until the day I die – and that includes turning up at me funeral.’
Debbie shook with anger as she replaced the receiver. How dare he say all those terrible things about her son? The names he’d called Charlie were unforgivable, and as for saying her boy had been born evil … that had been really below the belt.
Noticing her son standing in the doorway, Debbie wondered how much of the ten-minute slanging match he’d heard.
‘You all right, love?’ she asked guiltily.
Charlie nodded. ‘At least I know now why Lois hasn’t answered any of my calls or returned my texts. Why does Uncle Mickey hate me so much, Mum?’
Looking at her son’s forlorn expression, Debbie felt that her heart was about to break. She pulled him to her and hugged him tight.
‘He doesn’t hate you, love,’ she lied. ‘But he thinks of you and Lois as cousins, that’s why he’s so against the idea of you going out together.’
Not one for cuddles, Charlie loosened his mother’s grip. ‘But we’re not even related, Mum,’ he said, moving out of arm’s reach.
As she lit up a cigarette, Debbie searched for the right thing to say.
‘It wouldn’t have bothered me, love, if you and Lois had got together, but Mickey’s old-fashioned and dead against the idea. Just forget about her, Charlie. There’s plenty more fish in the sea, and a good-looking boy like you can get any girl he wants.’
Charlie left the room without answering. Walking up the stairs, he allowed himself a wry smile. He’d pretended to his mother that he’d been really upset when secretly he’d been pleased. His Uncle Mickey had hated him for as long as Charlie could remember. The feeling was mutual, and he couldn’t give a shit what his mug of an uncle said about him. The thing that pleased him most was that he now knew the reason why Lois had not responded to his calls and texts. It wasn’t because she wasn’t interested in him. Obviously she’d either had her phone confiscated or had been forbidden to talk to him.
Charlie had convinced himself, from the moment Lois had tapped on his door on Christmas Day, that she wanted him badly. Today’s argument only confirmed he was right. Lois must have told her mum and Mickey that they were going out together.
Snuggling up under his quilt, he decided to drag Kevin down to Romford on Saturday. With luck, he might bump into Lois there. He daren’t ring her any more in case Mickey had her phone.
Thinking of her fit body and pert tits, Charlie put his hand down his tracksuit bottoms and pleasured himself. He imagined he was fucking her and had one of his best wanks ever.
Steve arrived home at teatime to find Debbie furious again. Fortunately, they’d made up a couple of days ago and he was determined to be careful what he said in future. He hated arguing and didn’t want another slanging match with his beloved wife.
‘I’m telling ya, Steve, Mickey’s a fucking cunt! Me and him are finished this time, and I really mean that.’
‘Don’t fall out with him, Debs. He’s your brother and he loves you dearly. Give him a call in the week, when he’s calmed down. Sort things out, like.’
‘Over my dead body,’ she screamed. ‘I mean it, Steve. I don’t ever want to see him again, not after what he said about my son. I mean, how would he like it if I spoke about Alfie that way?’
Shrugging his shoulders, Steve decided to keep his trap shut. She was a fiery one, his Debs, and if agreeing with her kept her happy, then he’d nod at all the appropriate times.
New Year was quiet and came and went without incident. Debbie and Steve had originally planned to go away with Mickey, Karen and the kids, but for obvious reasons the mini-break had been cancelled and their New Year’s Eve was spent at h
ome with Gracie, Rosie, and a Chinese takeaway. Charlie decided not to join in with the celebrations and stayed in his bedroom.
Steve was glad when the holiday was over. It had been a poxy Christmas and New Year, and he couldn’t wait to get back to normal. The row between Mickey and Debs showed no signs of repairing itself and Steve was pissed off with the whole situation. ‘Awkward’ was the only way he could describe how he felt. He seemed to get it in the ear from all angles, when all he really wanted was a quiet life.
Doing things as a family was what he missed the most. He, Debs and the kids used to spend almost every weekend doing stuff with Mickey and his family, and it just wasn’t the same without them. It was also unfair on Rosie and Gracie who missed their cousins dreadfully, especially little Alfie, and were continually asking when they could see them again.
Steve had tried to make Debbie see sense and sort things out, but she was having none of it. ‘It ain’t fair on the girls, Debs. They love Alfie and Lois, they’re heartbroken.’
‘Tough shit,’ Debbie said, her obstinate nature preventing her heartstrings from being tugged.
It was only when the kids went back to school the following week that the enormity of the situation hit home to Debbie. Usually when the boys were at work and the kids at school, she’d spend her days with Karen, either lunching, shopping or going to the gym. Since the argument, they hadn’t spoken. All of a sudden, Debbie realised there was now a major gap in her life. Determined not to mug herself off by phoning her sister-in-law, she headed off to the gym at their usual time, hoping Karen would do the same.
Charlie hated being back at school. As the bell signalled lunchtime, he quickly gathered his belongings and dashed off to meet Kevin.
‘Oi, watch it, Weirdo!’ he heard a voice say as he barged his way through the corridors. Opening his mouth to answer back, Charlie quickly shut it when he came face to face with Dean Summers.
‘Sorry,’ he muttered, eager to get away.
‘So you should be,’ Dean replied cockily, giving him a shove for good measure.
Charlie hated Dean Summers more than life itself and, as much as he refused to admit it, jealousy was the main cause of his hatred. A blond, good-looking, popular pupil, Dean was the leader of the pack and Charlie despised him for being everything he himself wasn’t. Girls hung around at the gates and fell at Dean’s feet. Everything he touched turned to gold, and apparently he had a promising future as a boxer to look forward to. Normally, Charlie wouldn’t take shit off anyone and had personally bullied many of the weaker lads in his class, but Dean Summers was a different kettle of fish. Charlie was extremely wary of him and kept out of his way as much as he possibly could.
‘Shall we go to the chip shop?’ Kevin asked when he’d met up with his pal.
‘Might as well,’ Charlie replied unenthusiastically. He was still inwardly seething that Summers had made a mug of him in front of everyone.
‘I wish I could order a murder weapon off the internet and do away with him,’ he confided to Kevin.
Stuffing a handful of chips into his oversized mouth, Kevin nodded. He loved talking about doing away with people. He and Charlie had spent many hours flicking through websites about murderers and fantasising about carrying out the perfect crime themselves.
As they walked down the street, Charlie chucked his chip wrapping into the kerb. He was totally oblivious of the man sitting inside the tatty blue Escort, watching his every move. The man in the car waited until Charlie was out of sight then started the engine and drove off.
Debbie was on the treadmill when she noticed Karen come into the gym. Turning the speed down, she glanced around and waved. Her sister-in-law smiled, she wasn’t the type to hold grudges. This argument had nothing to do with her. As long as Charlie kept away from Lois, she couldn’t be angry with Debbie.
‘All right?’ she said as she got on the treadmill next to Debbie’s.
‘Yeah, I’m fine. You?’
The conversation between them was slightly stilted at first with neither of them wanting to mention the fallout. An hour later, workout finished, Debbie decided to take the initiative. ‘I dunno about you but I could kill for a glass of wine.’
Karen smiled and linked arms with her sister-in-law as they headed to the bar. Three glasses of wine later, Karen decided to bring up the inevitable.
‘I’m sure Mickey didn’t mean what he said about Charlie, Debs. He only said what he did in temper. He’s so protective of Lois. She’s really shy and naive in a lot of ways and definitely not ready for the dating scene.’
‘He said some terrible things, Karen. Unforgivable, in fact. Charlie’s my flesh and blood at the end of the day, that’s what hurts me.’
‘Honestly, he didn’t mean it,’ Karen repeated, squeezing Debbie’s hand. ‘His temper got the better of him. Mickey’s such a hot head when he loses it.’
Debbie sighed. ‘Don’t I bleeding know it? Then again, I’m no different. Me and Mickey both have a temper on us. As kids we’d fight like cat and dog.’
Karen smiled. ‘Look, let me have a word with him. I dunno about you, but I really miss meeting up as a family. Weekends aren’t the same any more without you and Steve.’
‘I miss it too,’ Debbie admitted. ‘And the girls are pining dreadfully for Alfie.’
‘Leave it with me and I’ll have a chat with him. I’ve got to go now, Debs, I’ve got a nail appointment at two. I’ll meet you here same time on Monday.’
‘I’ll see you then,’ Debbie said happily.
Charlie picked up his pen and doodled on the inside of his exercise book. Mr Brooks was rambling on about fractions and Charlie couldn’t be bothered to listen. Maths was his least favourite subject and bored him rigid. Glancing around the classroom, he momentarily locked eyes with Dean Summers.
‘What you looking at?’ Summers mouthed at him.
Charlie quickly looked away. Hearing the bell go, he waited till Summers had left the classroom before he made his way to meet Kevin.
The driver of the tatty blue Ecort looked into his mirror to check his appearance. He’d been told many a time that he was the spitting image of the actor Robert Carlyle. He loved being compared with the popular actor, and had recently had his hair cut exactly the same way, to enhance the likeness.
‘What shall we do now then?’ Kevin asked, willing to do whatever his friend suggested.
‘Look what I’ve got,’ Charlie said, taking a lump of cannabis out of his school bag. Laughing, he waved it in his friend’s face.
‘Cor, that’s a big bit, where did ya get it from?’
‘I’ve got loads of contacts,’ Charlie said cockily. ‘I’ve been playing me mum, ain’t I? She felt sorry for me, ’cause she thought me Uncle Mickey had upset me, so I milked it and managed to get fifty quid out of her.’
‘You’re so cool, Charlie,’ Kevin said, his eyes gleaming with admiration.
‘I’m the bollocks, ain’t I?’ Charlie agreed. He loved nothing more than blowing his own trumpet.
The man in the blue Escort stared in his wing mirror and watched Charlie approach. He downed the can of Strongbow he was holding, took a deep breath and opened the driver’s door. It was now or never. He had to do what he had to do, before his bottle went. ‘Charlie!’ he shouted. ‘Can I talk to you for a minute?’
Charlie turned around.
‘Who’s that, Charlie? Do you know him?’ Kevin asked, nudging him.
‘I don’t fucking know who it is,’ he replied, agitated.
Charlie was glad he had Kevin by his side. Even though his mate was grossly overweight and couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag, he was still a bit of back up.
‘You are Charlie, aren’t you?’ the strange man asked, in an odd kind of accent.
‘I might be,’ he replied, trying to sound calm even though he felt unnerved. ‘Who wants to know? Who are you?’
The strange man’s eyes filled up with tears. Trembling, he held on to the door of the car for phys
ical support. ‘I’m your dad, Charlie. I’m your dad.’
TWENTY-NINE
CHARLIE REMAINED QUITE still and showed little emotion as he stared into the eyes of his creator. He could feel his heart starting to race, but was determined not to show the way he felt inside.
He had no memories of his father, none whatsoever, and over the years he had invented a picture in his head of what his dad would look like. The stranger standing in front of him looked nothing like the handsome, strapping man he’d spent hours visualising and dreaming about.
The time father and son stood sizing one another up seemed like an eternity. Billy was the first to break the ice. ‘It’s wonderful to see you, Charlie. I’ve waited for this moment for years, son.’
Charlie glanced at Kevin, standing silently next to him, agog. Suddenly he felt angry, very angry. He’d needed his dad when he was younger, not now when the worst was over and he was starting to make his own way in life. ‘What took you so long to fucking find me then?’ he asked aggressively.
Billy shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’m sorry, son, but a lot happened. Things were awkward.’
Charlie could feel the hatred bubbling through his veins. ‘Awkward? fucking awkward! My whole life’s been awkward, thanks to you.’
Billy averted his eyes. ‘Look, we need to talk and we cannae do it here. Get in the car, son, and we’ll drive somewhere, have a wee chat, try to sort things out.’
Charlie stared at his father defiantly. ‘I ain’t getting in that shit heap. I don’t even fucking recognise you. You could be anyone, for all I know. You can’t just turn up out the blue and expect me to come running into your arms. Anyway, I’m busy, I’ve gotta be somewhere.’
Realising that things weren’t going to plan, Billy rummaged around inside the car for a pen. He scribbled his mobile number on to an old cigarette packet and handed it to his son.
‘Look, Charlie, I know this has been a shock for you, but please call me. I really wannae get to know you, and I’m sure you must have a lot of questions for me. You can ring me, day or night, but you must promise me one thing.’
Born Evil Page 21
