by Gary Davison
Anyway, I was at the back of the garden, Vin and me, just messing about and I brought it out with some matches from the den. I lit up, took a draw and coughed my head off. Vin had a shot and did the same. It was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever done. I could have puked.
Just then, as we were laughing, my grandma rattled on the window and pointed at me. I nearly shit one there and then and I quickly stubbed it out on my knee. Burnt like hell but I didn’t know what else to do. My grandmar never said a word. Kept it between me and her. Like now, if anything’s bothering me I go see her. We keep everything to ourselves, so as not to trouble the grown-ups or get me in trouble. If I told her about D’s dad she’d probably know what to do. But I couldn’t risk it. I think once we’ve run away properly and we’re hiding out I’ll let her know I’m ok.
Sunny Jim let one off just as I passed and I nipped my nose. You’ve never smelt anything until you’ve smelt one of Sunny Jim’s.
Dad was crashed out in front of the portable. I tiptoed to the kitchen door and waited. Nothing doing. I went through the kitchen and to the back door, unhooked the spare back door key, and waited. Nothing doing. I opened and shut the door and waited. Nothing.
I jumped the wall and jogged up to the corner to meet Hollywood.
6
D had drawn us a plan of his house showing his room and all the possible ways of getting into it without getting caught. There were a lot of things that needed to go in our favour, one of which was that his mam or dad hadn’t called the police and reported him missing. According to D, there was no chance of that happening. He’d done one before, been away a couple of days, and they didn’t call them then. Eventually, D’s dad sent a few of the travellers out looking and brought him back. He’d been sleeping up the allotments in one he knew was empty. Resourceful, you see. D would manage in the wild, no doubt about that.
He said they always kept a spare key under the bin at the back of the house. This key opened the garage door from the front. Inside the garage, under the old rabbit cage, was a key for the door into the house from the garage. We were all dead against this because the garage door would be noisy. D said it was impossible to keep it from going up over even if we all hung onto it. Had a mind of its own his mother always said.
Another way was to scale the wall at the back of his house using the drainpipe and go in through his bedroom window, which was always open. Problem there being that his dad’s gym was in the back room and he trained all sorts of weird hours.
D complains loads about him grunting and dropping weights on the floor during the night. He said it all depended on if he was in training for anybody and the time of the fight. After what we’d seen at the old pool, bumping into D’s dad when he was all pumped up was something we couldn’t risk, even for D’s inhaler.
The third way was to climb onto the garage and one of us give him a bunk-up to the window ledge, and hopefully he could reach the small window at the top. This, D said, was always open, except in winter. Problem with this one was that it was straight opposite D’s mam and dad’s room. D said he would be looking directly at his dad’s face and if he made the slightest noise, he’d be done for.
Both Vinny and me had offered to go in for him, but he said it would only make things ten times worse if we got caught. On top of that, if his dad thought we were burglars, he’d just crush us to death in a second.
We finished checking the plan, picked up the bomb Kenny had left us in case things got hairy, and made for D’s house on the Cowgate estate.
7
Hollywood had brought some night-vision binoculars with him. Good job, too, because D’s house looked so big and open now, and near impossible to get in without being seen.
Opposite D’s house was a park and a football field, probably a hundred feet away. Behind the park were blocks of flats, where all the prostitutes lived. We kept in the shadows until we were opposite his front room and lay down in the grass on the brow of a small hill.
There was no one else in the park. It was 11:15. Walking along the footpath outside D’s house was a man with a small white dog. He coughed and spat and pulled the dog along after it had cocked its leg on a lamppost. Two doors down from D was a burnt-out car in the garden. The windows to the house were boarded up. There were quite a few others boarded up in the street. Some of the boards had been pulled off and lay in the overgrown gardens.
Hollywood’s night-vision goggles weren’t too good and we could hardly see anything. One good thing was that the small window on the side of the house was open and there were all sorts of things piled down the side of the garage that we could use as a ladder.
The living room light went off, then the landing light. We lay on our backs taking deep breaths.
‘Can’t we just buy an inhaler at the chemist?’ Vinny asked.
‘If I knew what type, we might,’ D said, lighting up. ‘If it’s the wrong one I’m done for.’
Hollywood had a couple off and handed the rollup back to D. ‘When you come back out, are you coming out the front door, or back through the window?’
‘Window. The alarm will be on downstairs. If that goes off he’ll tear the place apart.’
We sat quiet for a while. I pictured D’s dad giving his mam one last smack before rolling over for the night. I wondered if the steroids made him more sleepy or more awake. I asked D and he said he was a light sleeper, always on his guard.
‘Don’t you think it would be easier to go back home tomorrow, get the inhaler, then do a runner?’ Vinny said. ‘Because looking at the window, I’m not sure even I’ll be able to bunk you up.’
‘He broke my mother’s jaw yesterday. He fights again tomorrow. Look what he’s done to me already. If I go back in there at any time he’ll kill me. Next time he’ll kill my mother and me.’
So we were there, watching, listening to the cars pass on the motorway behind the flats and looking at D’s house – it seemed impossible to get away with it. I felt like we were going to walk straight into D’s dad and he was going to kill us all. And who would know? All our parents thought we were in bed, so they wouldn’t come looking here. It would be like we’d all run away, and they’d come looking for us but never find us. Kenny would tell them we had planned to run away and must have taken off early. D’s dad would bury us somewhere in the country at a gypsy site. They’d blame the gypos who are unknown to everyone and we’d be forgotten about for good.
‘I don’t blame you if you want to back out,’ D said, breaking the silence. ‘Wouldn’t blame anyone. This is dangerous beyond dangerous. He doesn’t care about the police. He’d soon as do you lot in as he would me. Wouldn’t worry him what your dads said, either. He’d probably kill them as well.’
Hollywood placed a hand on D’s shoulder. ‘Let’s make a move before we all get spooked.’
We checked either side, then made our move.
8
We stacked two wooden boxes on top of each other at the side of the house. Vinny got on but couldn’t reach the garage roof. Hollywood was keeping watch up the street.
D and me dragged a tractor tyre from the back garden round the side and stacked the boxes on it. Vinny got on and pulled himself up. D and me got on the tyre together and I gave D a bunk up. Vinny then stretched down and pulled him up and I pushed him from the bottom. Vin then stretched down again and pulled me up.
We crept over to the window. We were right in the open. If it were daylight there’d be a crowd pointing at us from the street shouting, ‘Burglars! Thieves!’ But it wasn’t, and we had to hurry because there was nowhere to take cover if anyone came.
I bunked D up onto the window ledge and Vin and me got a leg each and pushed him up to the opening. He went in head first and I helped Vin up onto the ledge so he could hold D’s legs. He lowered him in and D turned and stood on the windowsill on the inside. Vin turned and looked at me, shaking his head. He whispered, ‘I can see his dad!’
Vin tried to get back down, but I told him to wait. He would
need to pull D back out. Seconds passed but it felt like hours. What the hell was D doing? I thought he knew where the inhaler was. D eventually came back to the window and passed a bag up to Vin. Vin passed it to me.
Then Hollywood hooted and I said to Vin, ‘Pull him out now! We’ve got company!’
Vin got him by the elbows, his head inside the window, and slowly started pulling D out. Hollywood hooted again and just as I looked back, Vinny shot into the window and D screamed as his dad dragged him onto the landing.
I saw the punches raining down on D. His dad bounced him along the passage, one way then the next, back-handers and full punches going straight in. I shouted and banged on the window, Vin joined in, we didn’t give a one about getting caught now, we just wanted it to stop.
The light in the bathroom was on and D’s mam came out of the room just in time to cop one in the face and she flew back onto the floor. The light from the bathroom shone along the passageway and we saw D, struggling to his feet, face covered in blood, and his Dad standing over him, snarling. His dad booted him in the guts, then stepped into his room and picked a belt up off the floor.
D’s mam threw herself at D’s dad, hanging onto his arm, begging him to stop. ‘You’ll kill him! You’ll kill him!’ she screamed. D’s dad smashed her aside and began lashing D with the belt. The buckle bounced off the side of his head and D rolled into a ball. D’s dad was bringing his hand right up in the air, as far back as he could, and thrashing it down on D, who was slithering away along the floor trying to escape.
We were still banging on the window but he didn’t even notice us. If we didn’t stop him D would be dead. A fully grown man couldn’t take a beating like this, let alone one of us. Vin turned away and puked and started crying.
‘We got to stop him, Jay,’ he said, still on all fours, ‘We got to stop him. He’s going to kill him.’
I ran to the side of the garage and beckoned Hollywood over. ‘Give me the bomb!’
Hollywood passed the petrol bomb up and I ran back to the window and Vin and me began banging on the window again. This time he was laying into D’s mam, proper punches to her face. D got up and stumbled to his feet and picked the belt off the floor and managed a feeble lash at his dad who caught it and yanked D towards him and threw him back along the passage.
I ran a few paces back, lifted the petrol bomb up – Vin lit it – I waited for it to take, then launched it through the window. Soon as it landed, the curtains and wall went up. We legged it off the roof and out the front. It was up to D to escape now.
We crawled up to the brow of the hill and watched D’s house, waiting for D to come running out. Ten seconds, twenty, thirty, the flames coming out of the roof, wrapping around the front windows. We took to our toes, heading as far away from the house as we could. Turning on our heels, we could see thick black smoke bellowing out of the roof and windows and a fire engine sounded in the distance. We were too far away to see whether D or his mother had made it out.
9
The following morning, sitting in the den, filling Kenny in on all the details, we agreed that we hadn’t had a choice. If we hadn’t distracted D’s dad then both D and his mam would be in the morgue this morning. If Vin hadn’t let go of D when he was pulling him through the window, he’d have been beaten to death himself. We weren’t to blame for what had happened last night – D’s dad was, and that was that.
Kenny had heard on the news that there were no casualties and that the family had been taken into hospital after inhaling smoke.
‘What about the state of D?’ I asked. ‘I’m not joking, Kenny, I’m surprised he’s still alive. His dad was beating him so bad you’d think he was trying to punch holes straight through him.’
‘Never heard anything,’ Kenny said. ‘He’s definitely in hospital, though. Mam was on about it this morning, knowing D was one of us. Saying what a tragedy it was and that it was probably caused by a chip pan or a gas leak. Said they were the most common causes.’ Kenny tapped the test tube he was busy heating up, ‘But I know otherwise, don’t I?’
Hollywood’s dad had postponed the trip and we couldn’t have agreed more. We didn’t want to go without D. Wouldn’t be the same. And after last night he’d want to run away more than ever. I couldn’t get the picture out of my mind of D being thrown down the hallway like a bouncy ball, smashing off the door and landing awkwardly on his neck, and then trying to get to his feet and fight.
Vin was the same. As big as Vin is, it made him puke last night and talking about it today made him feel queasy too. Knowing about something is one thing, but seeing for real is different. Makes you feel funny inside. After watching D’s dad fighting, I was frightened of him and imagined how hard it must have been for D living with him. Seeing D getting beaten up by him was disgusting. Makes me want to puke. Makes us all want to puke.
Hollywood never actually saw it and he’s pleased about that. He’s the only one talking any real sense today because we’re all in shock. We’ve just seen our mate nearly killed. Real punches with big shovel hands smashing into his stomach and head. How didn’t he get knocked out? How didn’t he die? I wonder if he’s really damaged now and he can’t talk properly. That he’s been beaten so badly that he’s nothing more than a wreck?
There was only one way to find out and waiting for visiting time wasn’t an option because D’s dad would be on the lookout for us. I tried not to think about what he would do if he got his hands on us. And was it worth going to the law? Hollywood reckoned not. He said his old man operated outside the law all his life and a warning from the police to someone one like D’s dad would have no effect.
‘Probably stir things up even worse,’ Hollywood said. ‘I wouldn’t even tell the Kingpin about this one because it’s so naughty. Scattering other gangs with bombs is okay, but bombing a house is upping things, boys. Someone like D’s dad will want revenge, no matter who done it.’
‘We had no choice!’ I said, jumping up. ‘Tell them, Vin!’
‘It was bomb the house or let D die. That was the choice.’
My stomach started churning over. Now we knew D was safe, the consequences of last night were starting to haunt me. We were in it up to our necks. Even if the law didn’t come after us we had D’s dad after us. If he couldn’t get to us he’d probably go for our families. Our dogs and grannies. He’d kill them all and still come for us.
‘What we going to do, Jay?’ Vin asked.
‘Pass me a Tizer and let me think.’
Kenny carried on messing about with his test-tube, Vin sat with a hang-dog look and Hollywood rolled the match around his mouth, occasional glancing at me and nodding. I couldn’t think straight. D’s dad was coming for us and we needed to make plans – and fast.
10
D’s face was in a mess but, unbelievably, he didn’t have anything broken other than his nose – again, which kind of made him look normal to us. D said his dad had gone ape and tried to get our names, but D wouldn’t give us up. His dad had been locked up by the police after smashing the hospital room up trying to get to D.
‘They’ve got to believe you now, D,’ Vin, said. ‘They’ve seen him at it. Surely he’ll get locked up for it. Life, or something.’
Vin was saying what we were all hoping. That D’s dad would be locked away forever and never be able to harm any of us. Then we could get D out of the hospital, fight Stocksfield school on Thursday, and go on the trip with Hollywood’s old man. The way it was all planned before D’s dad had gone off on one.
There’s always been the odd scrape on D’s face and a few on his body, but nothing as bad as recently. The gypos arriving in town from all over the universe to fight is when this had turned really bad. Now we were all going to be on the receiving end and like D had said last night, he’d soon as do us all in as do one.
D propped himself up in bed. There was a tube sticking out of his arm and a bandage wrapped around his head. He looked like a soldier back from war. ‘Look, I’ve made up my mind
what I’m going to do. And before anyone tries to talk me out of it, I’m not changing it no matter what. And I don’t want any of you involved.’
‘We’re involved, now, D,’ I said, raiding his cupboards looking for chocolate. ‘No chocs?’
‘No one to bring me any, is there?’
‘Pass the violin,’ Hollywood said, coming from the door. ‘Looks like someone is feeling sorry for themselves.’
D started laughing, then held his side, as Hollywood spun around, straightened his collar and went straight into his Billy Jean routine. You ain’t seen anything until you’ve seen Hollywood’s Billy Jean. He does it better than Michael Jackson, singing as well, with Kenny clicking his fingers as backing.
Hollywood pushed a chair aside and let rip, strutting his stuff, grabbing his balls and karate kicking the sky and straight down into the splits. He bounced back up and with us all in stitches, Hollywood slid down towards the door, then stopped and looked at us. ‘It’s D’s dad!’
We piled for the window, everyone throwing themselves out. D grabbed my arm. ‘I need you to do something for me.’ I was edging to be away, staring at the door as Kenny toppled out the window last. ‘I need you to go and see my uncle Stan. Down at Scotchy. Tell him what’s happened. I’m going to take care of this, Jay.’
Just as the door opened I dived out the window, rolled down the grass and into the others and we ran for our bikes.
10
Vin and me split from the rest and pedalled through the dene and daisy fields, down the bank and into Scotswood, one of the most notorious housing estates in Newcastle. The most notorious.
