Dirty Old Town and Other Stories

by Nigel Bird

  “Dad has a heap of them in the garage. Lets me take ‘em out sometimes.”

  “My dad was the same. These are his. Pure fucking originals.”

  The girl had taste. “Gene Vincent. ‘Race With The Devil’. 1956, Capitol Records. Flipside, ‘Gonna’ Back Up Baby’.”

  “Colour of the label, Maroon.” She already had my body. When she said that, that’s when she took my breath.

  I hit that floor like I was seventeen again, which wasn’t so long ago if I think about it.

  How I loved to hear the old music.

  Roger’s all for selling the stuff. Says he’ll rent us a bigger apartment with a garden.

  Stuff the garden. Can’t let loose with a lawn-mower.

  Next record she chose was a slowy. Little Anthony and the Cleopatras. You could hear the static all the way through as the needle scraped its way around. I didn’t care how shit the sound was, just how good it made me feel.

  She came in real close, rubbed her body into mine. I rubbed back. ‘Tears on My Pillow’ we sang.

  Last I remember we were kissing and my hands were inside that beautiful summer dress of hers.

  *

  When I woke up it took me a while to remember where I was. Who I was, even.

  Didn’t take long to figure out.

  Roger was shouting something over me.

  I didn’t hear a word. All my ears were picking up was the loop from the record player.

  The needle had caught. “Spo-dee-oh-dee,” was all it said, over and over again.

  Always loved Sticks McGhee.

  Roger was getting redder and redder. Picked up a glass and smashed it into the wall.

  I noticed that all I was wearing was my watch. Maybe that’s what got him so riled.

  Never minded him breaking things before, but it was different when he went for my nose. It crunched under his fist like he was using a pestle and mortar.

  Took a while for the pain to go. I could feel my eyes watering and my cartilage move back to place.

  Didn’t look to me like he was finished.

  I reached for the neck of the wine bottle and took hold. When he came back for more, I slugged him right across the head.

  Fell down like he’d been practising all his life.

  I went upstairs, picked up Tim and Anne-Marie and juggled with them as I opened the front door.

  The cold air sobered me up a little. Made me think about what I was doing.

  I went back into the den, stuffed my bag with as many singles as would fit and headed into the night.

  *

  * *

  * * *

  * *

  *

  Merry Christmas

  (I Don’t Want To Fight Tonight)

  “Do I really have to go down there?”

  “It was you promised your ma a pearl necklace.”

  “Aye, but I meant we was going to buy one.”

  “You daft banana. Price of those things, I’d have to get a job.”

  “Some dads have jobs.”

  “And some don’t. Now get the fuck down there before I tan

  your arse.”

  Craig held on tight to the chimney and looked inside.

  “It’s pitch black Dad.”

  “Fuck’s sake, son. The torch.”

  He’d borrowed his brother’s cycling lamp and fixed it on to an old sweat-band so that he could wear it round his head. It was his own invention. Allowed him to see where he was going and keep his hands free at the same time.

  Craig flicked the switch then looked down. His fingers gripped the brickwork.

  “I’ll never fit.”

  “Get out. Boys twice your age were up and down these bloody chimneys just to give them a clean.”

  “But there might be a fire.”

  “If there was a fire, there’d be smoke.”

  “What if Santa comes?”

  “Jesus. There’s no such thing you fruitcake. Now get down there and find us that necklace. Don’t forget Mummy loves any kind of jewellery. And lots of it.”

  Craig stepped onto the stack. Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled out onto his cheeks.

  “No Santa, Dad. What do you mean?”

  “Do you want that present for your ma or no?”

  Wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jumper, Craig lowered himself into the hole and felt around for a hold.

  His dad took some of the weight by pulling the rope that joined them together like an umbilical chord.

  “Remember the code son. One pull for ready, two for get me out quick”.

  *

  Ned drank Irish coffee from his flask. It was more Gallic than Columbian, just the way he liked it.

  Between sips he puffed on a fat Cuban cigar, blowing the smoke out in rings the size of Frisbees. It was his Christmas Eve tradition and he wasn’t going to let a little thing like breaking in to Lady Hawthorn’s mansion get in the way of routine.

  He’d already picked his horses for Boxing Day and was half way through ringing his TV selections in the Radio Times when the signal came.

  One pull. No sweat.

  He worked the rope steadily, hand over hand, pulling his son up and thinking about the super-cheese pizzas they’d be having for lunch with all the trimmings.

  When Craig popped his head out, he looked like a coal-miner at the end of a shift, dirt covering his face and a broad grin stretching between his ears.

  He pressed his fingers to his lips and pulled himself out of the stack without speaking.

  The pair descended the ladder and headed for the woods.

  Once they were in deep enough to be sure they were in the clear, they sat down against the trunk of an old oak.

  “Let’s see what you got.”

  Craig opened the bag carefully and pointed his head down so that the swag was illuminated by a circle of light.

  “I got her a stocking,” he said to his dad. “From the end of the bed.”

  Ned grabbed at the fishnets and pulled the gifts out one by one: a bottle of Tesco’s lubricating gel (silk); a box of Cointreau flavoured condoms (‘For the refined woman’); a chocolate penis; a pair of fluffy handcuffs; a bag of Thornton’s toffee and a Satsuma.

  “What about the pearl necklace, Muppet?”

  “They’d have seen me.”

  “Who?”

  “Lady Hawthorn and Santa.” Craig shoved the chocolate into his mouth and chewed. “They were making babies.”

  Ned flicked Craig’s left ear hard.

  “Christ, Dad.”

  “Christ’s got nothing to do with this, it’s Christmas we’re talking about.”

  A dribble of chocolate-saliva dripped down Craig’s chin as his smile appeared again.

  “What the fuck are you grinning for now?”

  Craig put the toffees and Satsuma in the bag to take for his mum.

  “I knew you was lying, Dad,” Craig said as he buried his face into Ned’s beer-gut and gave him a hug. “About Santa. I saw him. Right there on top of Lady Hawthorn.”

  “Eh?”

  “Best Christmas I ever had,” he said. “Wait till I tell everyone in school.”

  “This is best between you and me, son,” Ned said as he pocketed the handcuffs and the gel. “Merry Christmas, mate.”

  “Merry Christmas, Dad,” Craig said. “And Dad, you might as well bring the condoms. Ma said she needed another bairn like she needed a Rangers scarf.”

  *

  * *

  * * *

  * *

  *

  Three Little Birds

  It were just sitting on the path when I found it, out by the back fence. Could tell there were something wrong by the way its wing spread out all crooked like.

  I pulled on the brakes, dug the back wheel into the dirt and skidded to a halt. Poor thing didn’t even move when the cloud of dust sprayed over it.

  “Don’t be scared,” I said. “I’m going to help.” Looked like it were listening from the way it tilted its head
, only I reckon it didn’t like what I said ‘cause as soon as I reached to pick it up, it hopped off. Even though its wing held it back, it were into the bush before I could do anything to stop it.

  “What you up to?”

  Danny were peering over my shoulder. Maybe that’s what scared it off.

  “Helping a bird.”

  “Kind is it?”

  “Dunno. Black with a banana beak. Wing’s all busted.”

  “It’s a blackbird.”

  “Hell should I know?”

  “How does anyone know anything?”

  I decided to shut up. See what he were going to do about it.

  Two weeks earlier I’d been round to his house. His sister showed me a shoe box under the stairs by the boiler. Lid full of holes it had. Inside were a tiny bird, next to a ball of cotton wool with a handful of leaves in the corner. They were looking after it till it got over some shock or something. Danny were dead proud of himself for taking it in.

  That’s why I felt good that he were there.

  I watched as he walked into the bush. The branches scratched at his legs - I could see them writing red lines on his skin. Didn’t stop him though. Just waded in like it weren’t there.

  The way he did it, he had that little blackbird cornered. No way it were getting away.

  Came out cupping it in two hands.

  “Heart’s beating like a fist fight,” he told me.

  “Let’s have a feel.”

  He pulled it to his chest. Looked down on it, then at me.

  Can always tell with Danny when he’s not right. Get’s that look on his face. A crooked smile and a squint to his eyes. Miss Gladstone even says so. “You’ve got the look of Rumplestiltskin,” she says. She’s probably right, but I haven’t a Scooby what she’s talking about. Only says it when he’s got that look though, so I know she’s seen it.

  Before I could ask, he legged it sharpish. Jumped right over the old mattress and the shopping trolleys like they weren’t there, straight through the black stubble where we’d set the fires and over to the edge of the pond.

  I started after him but it were no good. Not even a mountain bike could ride through that shit.

  I dropped the chopper and ran towards him.

  “See if birdy can swim,” he shouted.

  “Course he can’t Danny. Don’t be daft.”

  I thought I might get there in time, but no. I watched him kneel down and hold it under. Didn’t even move, poor thing.

  When I got close he threw a stone. Whistled past my ear it did. Then another. And another.

  The edge of the water were covered in pebbles. He were never going to run out.

  I were thinking about what to do when I got hit right between the eyes. Just like Goliath me mam said later, whoever he is. Took me back for a second. Then I ran at him. “Fuck them stones,” I thought. Jumped right onto his back and knocked him over.

  Pair of us rolled round for a while. I were punching him like me arms were windmills, only none of them were doing any damage. They’re too long and thin, see. He just laughed. Right into my face.

  I would have kept going if he hadn’t held the bird up. All limp it were. Limp and wet and dead as a dodo.

  Don’t know why I didn’t just push him under there and then. Guess I didn’t think of it is all. Could’ve made the world a better place me mam said when I told her and she’s always right about everything.

  *

  I fucking knew it were him soon as he came through the gate. Weren’t much I could do about avoiding him neither. Still had to feed the pigs and chickens, not to mention the animals in the petting zoo. If I didn’t do it they’d go hungry and I couldn’t have that.

  I just stared at him.

  Course he’d changed over the years, but his eyes still had that same look about them.

  Hadn’t seen him since they took him off to one of them homes. His sister wrote me a couple of times, said it weren’t so bad. Got taken out swimming and to the flicks and bowling and the like. Food were all right an’ all. Then she didn’t write any more. Never forgot ‘em mind, neither of them.

  I pulled me hood up and got on with cleaning out the goats. Apart from the birds, they’re me favourites. Always come over for a good scratch. I love the smell, too. It’s like the stuff they put on them expensive pizzas.

  Makes me hungry just thinking about it.

  He walked right past me. Him and his girlfriend and their little kid.

  The kid looked real cute. Bright blond hair he had, and a massive smile. I watched him go over to the sheep and reach out his hand.

  Poor thing got a fright when one of ‘em took a liking for his finger. Only licked it, I reckon, but the wee scone weren’t expecting it. Cried his heart out he did. Just stood there bawling.

  Probably weren’t expecting his dad to slap him round his head neither. “Stupid twat,” he shouted as he did it. “What the fuck d’you do that for?”

  The kid’s mum were straight over to him and bent down to pick him up.

  “Leave him Tina. You’ll make him soft.” She carried on with what she were doing, putting her hands under his oxters.

  Danny grabbed her hair. Yanked her back. “Leave him, I said. Leave ‘im or I’ll sort you out when we get back.”

  I knew I shouldn’t be doing it, but the words were out of my mouth before I could think about what to do.

  “Danny? Danny Walker? That you?”

  He turned and looked at me like his insides were on fire. Then he laughed. “Bloody hell. Shrek. You gormless bugger. What the hell are you doing here?”

  I thought it were pretty obvious given that I were wearing dungarees and a cap that had ‘City Farm’ across it in big red letters, not to mention that I were raking up the straw and the goat shit.

  “Work here, don’t I.”

  The girl had picked up the boy and taken a step back. She were stroking his hair and saying things in a silly voice and it seemed to be doing the trick. He had his smile back again.

  “Bugger me. Never thought you’d get a job.” He turned to the girl. “See Tina, he were always a bit slow our Shrek. Not the shiniest penny in the bank, were you?”

  I chose not to answer.

  Danny took out a fag and lit it.

  “There’s no smoking here,” I told him. “It’s not good for the animals.”

  He laughed again. Blew his smoke right at me.

  I reckon Tina could see what might happen. She came over and gave him a tug on his sleeve. He shrugged her off and flicked the fag right in her face.

  “Listen,” he said to me, as if I had any choice, “we’re having a party on Saturday night up at rooftops. D’you know ‘em?”

  “Danny, what are you doing?” Tina butted in.

  “Truck’s party. Maybe Shrek’d like to come along.”

  He were right about me being thick at school. Never could do anything they wanted me to. Even so, I weren’t crazy enough to get mixed up with scum like Danny. I’d learned my lesson first time around.

  “Nah mate,” I told him. “Busy.”

  “Oh aye. Shrek Harper busy on a Saturday night. No fucking way.”

  “I am, I’m…” and that were it. I couldn’t even think of a single thing I might be up to. Sitting in watching telly with my ma were the truth of the matter and I weren’t about to tell him that now, were I?

  “Mandy’ll be there.” There were that look on his face. It were like it had been tattooed on my brain.

  I felt me cheeks go red. He knew I’d not be staying away. “What time did you say?”

  “Didn’t.” He spat a big greenie on the floor where I were raking. “Any time after half eight. Tell ‘em Danny sent you.”

  He turned to Tina and put his arm around her. Pulled at the cheek of the kid. “No harm done, eh kid?” he said and he pulled them off in the direction of the rabbits.

  *

  She were more beautiful than I remembered. And more grown up. Never imagined her in a woman’s body.
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  Already had butterflies in my tummy when I got in, but when I saw the way her skirt only just covered her knickers the feeling spread so I could feel the tingles lower down. Way the blokes around her behaved, looked like I weren’t the only one that were feeling them tingles neither.

  Didn’t recognise any of them, but they looked like nasty pieces of work. Obviously Danny’s tribe. Like clones of him they were. Same shaved heads, same scars on their scalps, same tattoos along their arms. Could hardly tell one from the other.

  Mandy didn’t seem to mind. She were laughing and swaying and reaching out to touch them. It were as if she had them hypnotised.

  Instead of going over, I went to the bar. Ordered a pint and turned to watch her.

  She looked right back at me. For ages we just stared at each other. It were marvellous. Then she turned right back as if it hadn’t happened and teased her audience a bit more.

  “All right Shrek.” Danny were pressing me round the shoulders so hard that I felt my spine crack. “Glad you could make it.” His girlfriend, Tina, were standing right behind him. Held out her hand and we shook.

  “Hiya.” She were all soft and damp and I liked the way she sounded.

  “Seen Mandy?” he asked. “Turned into a real cracker. Be after her myself if she weren’t my sister.” He looked round at Tina and nudged her with his elbow. “Just kidding,” he said, but it didn’t look like she got the joke.

  “Aye,” I told him. “She’s classy all right.”

  Danny burst out laughing again. Spilled some of his beer.

  I looked out over the town. The light were fading a little, but you could still make out the churches and the chimneys in the distance. Someone told me once you could make out Blackpool Tower on a clear day, but I’ve never seen it.

  A high pitched squeak brought me back. It were real loud. There were a few clicks and then someone’s voice came out of the speaker behind us.

  “Ladies, gentlemen and Mandy,” he said. “Just kidding love.”

  “Someone won’t be getting shagged tonight,” she shouted, then stumbled backwards into the arms of one of the tribe.

  “We’re all here for a good time aren’t we?”