The Sting

by Kimberley Chambers

  Sam was perplexed. ‘I thought you said you lived with your mum’s sister? Surely she must have known when you were born?’

  ‘It’s a long story, my mum was a bit of a drunk. I don’t really like to talk about it.’

  Sam put an arm around Kim’s shoulders. ‘I get that. My mum’s a pisshead an’ all. But I want you to know, if you ever need to chat to anyone, I’m here for ya.’

  Kim put her arms around Sam and hugged her tight.

  ‘’Ere, you ain’t trying it on with me, are ya, bird? Only, you had your chance and blew it – big time.’

  Kim laughed. ‘You should be so bleedin’ lucky.’

  Donna Darling moved her head rhythmically, trying to get a response from her husband’s flaccid penis. There was none. It was as limp as a giant worm. ‘I’m getting sick of this. How we gonna have another baby if you can’t even get it up?’

  Tommy sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and put his head in hands. Five days had passed since he’d laid eyes on his nonce-case of an uncle, and he still couldn’t get the image of the bastard out of his mind.

  ‘Don’t you fancy me no more? Is that it?’ Donna shrieked.

  ‘No. It’s not that. I’ve not been sleeping properly. I feel stressed.’

  ‘Well, best you go to the fucking doctor and get something to de-stress yourself then.’

  ‘I will,’ Tommy lied.

  ‘I mean it, Tommy. It’s bad enough you won’t let me suck your cock, let alone this. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, there’s something wrong with you. You’re a freak of fucking nature.’

  When Donna stormed down the stairs, Tommy picked up the radio/alarm clock and aimed it at the wall. Donna was spot on. He was a freak of nature. But it wasn’t his fault.

  In a classroom in Hendon, Kim and Sam sat anxiously next to one another. Five names had been called out and told to leave the classroom.

  Glancing to her left, Kim smiled at Jay. He crossed his fore and middle fingers together and winked at her.

  Kim’s heart skipped a beat. Jay had that effect on her. Nothing had happened between them, but he was a lovely guy, genuine. She and Sam had spent most weekends hanging out with Jay, John and Leroy. Racism was rife at Hendon, and Kim admired the way Jay and John had taken Leroy under their wing. Leroy was the son of West Indian parents and Kim thought he was great. He had a brilliant sense of humour, reminded her in some ways of Benny.

  When the remaining recruits were told they had all passed their final exam, there were whoops of delight, hugs and handshakes all round.

  Clinging on to each other, Kim and Sam jumped up and down, brimming with excitement. They were officially WPCs now, and could barely believe it. ‘We did it, bird. We fucking did it!’ Sam chuckled.

  Tears streamed down Kim’s face. ‘I can’t believe it. I must ring Caroline and Connie.’

  ‘Why you crying, ya nutter?’ Sam grinned.

  ‘I dunno,’ Kim laughed. But she did. She had come so far from that self-harming, shop-lifting little skinhead she’d once been; she could barely believe she’d actually achieved something so brilliant in life. Finally Scratch was dead, it was WPC Regan from here on in.

  *

  ‘What’s up, Tom? You’re definitely not yourself. Is it Donna? She been playing you up again?’ asked Danny Darling. He, Tommy and Eugene had stopped at a cafe for a full English, but Tommy had barely touched his.

  Tommy pushed his plate away and picked up the Sun newspaper. ‘I’m fine. Me and Donna are OK. I ain’t been sleeping well, that’s all,’ he replied, before pretending to read an article about unemployment being at a post-war high.

  Last night, Tommy had gone back to the pub he’d seen his uncle in and sat outside in his car. His plan had been to follow the evil bastard, find out where he now lived. But not only had his uncle not showed, all it had done was remind him of more terrible memories. Then Donna had let fly at him for arriving home late and he’d ended up having one of his excruciating nightmares.

  Tommy sipped his mug of tea. He knew if he involved the Darlings they would help him, but he couldn’t. Obviously, Ronnie and Danny knew a bit about his plight. But the only person who he’d even remotely opened up to was Scratch. He wanted to kill his uncle, throttle him with his bare hands, but even the thought of touching him or being in close proximity made Tommy want to vomit.

  Eugene talking about Ronnie snapped Tommy’s mind back to the present. ‘I still don’t understand why Ronnie had to tell Griff that he’d screwed his missus. Griff was reliable, an asset to the firm. Do you reckon if Dad had a word with Griff, he might come back to work?’ Eugene asked.

  Danny shook his head slowly. ‘No chance.’ Even though Griff hadn’t been married to her at the time, he was livid – understandably so.

  ‘Ronnie weren’t thinking straight. It’s not his fault,’ Tommy said. ‘Life’s a bitch, unfortunately.’

  ‘You’re ever so cheerful at times, Tommy. Anyone ever told you that?’ Eugene chuckled.

  Ignoring Eugene’s little dig, Tommy glanced at his watch. ‘What time we gotta meet your old man?’

  Danny studied his pal. There was definitely something wrong with him. ‘Noon. You sure you’re OK, mate?’

  ‘Yes, Dan. How many more times you gonna ask me the same fucking question?’

  Danny and Eugene glanced at each other. They knew when to shut up.

  Jack Darling had the spring back in his step. His speech had returned to normal and he felt on top of the world. He’d been for a check-up yesterday and his cholesterol was significantly lower. He’d taken the doctor’s advice and eaten more fruit and veg. He’d also cut down on salt, reduced his alcohol intake and knocked the cigarettes on the head. He still enjoyed a few whiskies and cigars, mind. A man had to have some pleasures in life.

  ‘Well, what do you reckon?’ Jack grinned at his eldest son. They’d had no more grief from publicans since Ronnie’s little rampage. He was slightly disappointed Danny and Tommy hadn’t sorted it alone, but he hadn’t coated them off. The Archers were a handful. All the publicans had coughed up what they owed, and the rest had paid up on time. Jack felt they now needed their own base though. A place where they could operate from properly. He had registered the gaming machines as a legitimate business, but it wouldn’t hurt to register another. He only declared a small percentage of his earnings to the taxman and his recent illness had given Jack food for thought. He had plenty of money stashed away, and Suzie’s dream was to own a little cottage in the countryside where they could spend weekends and holidays. By setting up another business, Jack could not only cover his arse with the taxman, he could grant his wife her wish.

  The premises, formerly a furniture showroom, were just off the Old Kent Road. ‘Yeah, I like it. It’s got potential,’ Ronnie grinned.

  Jack knew his eldest wasn’t quite the same man he’d been before that fight. His defeat had knocked the stuffing out of him in more ways than one. Desperate to boost Ronnie’s confidence again, Jack put an arm around his shoulders. ‘Glad you like it. Only, I want you to manage the gaff.’

  Ronnie’s eyes lit up. He’d hated disappointing his father, was well chuffed his dad still had such faith in him. ‘I won’t let you down. I promise.’

  ‘I know you won’t, son. No more smashing the fuck out of the likes of Bill Edwards though, eh? I got a lot of stick over that one.’

  Before Ronnie had a chance to reply, Danny, Eugene and Tommy arrived. Danny glanced around the empty, musty-smelling property. All his father had told him was to get the lads there by noon as he had something exciting to show them. ‘What we meant to be looking at?’ Danny enquired.

  Jack chuckled. He wasn’t one for champagne, didn’t even like the taste, if he was honest. But today he’d purchased a couple of bottles, and some paper cups to pour it in.

  ‘What’s going on, Dad?’ Eugene asked.

  Tommy said nothing. All he could think of was his nonce of an uncle and his penis no longer workin
g.

  Ordering his boys to raise their cups, Jack bellowed, ‘Welcome to our very own headquarters. We’re turning this gaff into a bar. It’ll be opening early Feb. The licence is already sorted, thanks to one of my bent mates,’ Jack winked.

  ‘It ain’t very big, is it?’ Eugene pointed out. ‘The Butlers’ club in Whitechapel is much bigger than this.’

  ‘It’s no smaller than Tin Pan Alley, and that’s worked out all right for the Frasers. Anyway, we don’t need a bigger gaff. I don’t want any old Tom, Dick and Harry in ’ere. We want our own kind, punters we can trust. I’m gonna hire a couple of doormen, separate the wheat from the chaff.’

  Danny grinned. ‘Our very own bar. I love it. What we gonna call it?’

  Jack lit up a fat cigar. Dressed in a beige roll-neck, slacks, a brown sheepskin coat, with his thick signature gold chain around his neck, he didn’t look like a man who’d recently had a minor stroke. ‘Well, we can’t call it Darlings – that sounds like a pooftas’ hang-out. So, I thought we’d call it Churchill’s. That’s your mother’s maiden name. A tribute to her and good old Winston,’ Jack chuckled.

  Ronnie grinned. ‘That’s a brilliant name. Got a bold ring to it.’

  ‘You like the name, Tom?’ Danny enquired. His pal was yet to utter a word.

  Tommy forced a smile. ‘Yeah. I do.’

  Jack’s expression turned serious. ‘Before we can concentrate on this gaff, we got a problem that needs sorting, lads. The Archers paid a gang of bikers to go on the rampage late last night. Trashed six of our boozers and our gaming machines. Been inundated with phone calls this morning from distraught landlords, and I’m fucking fuming. Without Alfie and Glenn, the Archers wouldn’t even have a firm. We need to take ’em out ASAP.’

  His mind on other matters, Tommy only caught the back end of the conversation. ‘Take ’em out where?’

  Ronnie chuckled and slid his right forefinger across his throat. ‘Take ’em out, out. Rid the universe of the fucking scum.’

  Tommy’s eyes widened. Smashing a few kneecaps and faces in was one thing. But actual murder! That wasn’t part of his job description. Or was it?

  The atmosphere at Hendon was one of jubilation. Kim had phoned Caroline and Connie. As expected, they were over the moon with her news. Connie had even burst into tears, bless her.

  ‘I wonder where we’ll be posted to? Wouldn’t it be great if we were together,’ Sam said, knowing that was highly unlikely.

  ‘It sure would. But it isn’t gonna happen. I only hope we’re near each other. Perhaps we can save up, share a flat together. I’d love that.’

  ‘Me too. As long as you don’t try it on with me though,’ Sam winked.

  Kim laughed and pushed her lunch to one side. They were in the canteen, but she was far too excited to eat at present. ‘What are your aspirations? You know, in the long run?’

  ‘Undercover. Imagine how exciting that would be, infiltrating gangs and pretending you’re somebody else. What about you?’

  ‘Child protection. I want to help kids, lock up the scum who abuse ’em. Especially the nonces.’

  ‘Wow! Heavy shit. Not sure I could stomach it. What made you choose that?’

  Not wanting to give anything away about herself, a fleeting image of Tommy flashed through Kim’s mind. ‘I knew a lad who was abused by his uncle. We were close, once.’

  ‘Is that the lad who broke your heart?’

  Jay’s arrival saved Kim from answering any more awkward questions. ‘How’s my two favourite ladies?’ he grinned.

  ‘We’re good. But please stop calling me a lady, ’cause I so ain’t one,’ Sam laughed.

  ‘We celebrating tonight or what? John and Leroy are up for it. How about we have a couple in the bar here, then head off to the Chinese? I feel like getting bladdered, but I won’t enjoy it as much if you two don’t join us,’ Jay winked, his gaze fixed on Kim.

  Feeling those butterflies somersault in her stomach, Kim did her best to remain cool. Jay had the same effect on her as Tommy once had and she knew from past experience that was a recipe for disaster. ‘We might do. We’ll let you know later,’ she said rather abruptly.

  When Jay walked up to the counter to get some food, Sam shook her head. ‘Why are you horrible to him at times? Not only is he one of the nicest blokes I have ever met, it’s clear to a blind person he’s in love with you.’

  Kim glared at her pal. ‘Don’t talk such crap. All he wants is his leg over. That’s all they ever want. You said the same about your brothers.’

  Sam leaned across the table and squeezed Kim’s hand. ‘I don’t know much about this lad who broke your heart. But, fuck me, he did a good job of it. Don’t let him ruin the rest of your life, mate. Everybody deserves a chance of happiness and Jay’s a good ’un, I’m telling ya.’

  Tommy Darling leapt in his car and drove. He had no idea where he was driving to, not at first anyway. His head was mashed. The events of this past week had truly taken a toll on him.

  Cranking the stereo up, Tommy sang along with Bob to ‘No Woman No Cry’. It reminded him of happier times. Training at the boxing gym in Dagenham, idle afternoons chilling over Parsloes Park or Matchstick Island. Life at Maylands hadn’t been that bad. So he did a U-turn. Finding out Ray had cancer had been preying on his mind. Ray had been good to him over the years and the least he could do was pay him a visit.

  Tommy stared at Maylands for what seemed like ages. He felt nervous. Would Ray and Connie welcome him with open arms? He’d been out of order not keeping in touch, he knew that much. Thinking of Smiffy, Tommy sighed. He still missed his pal terribly and if he wasn’t having nightmares about his uncle, he’d be having them about that fateful evening at the fairground. The image of Smiffy’s distorted dead body would never truly leave him.

  Taking a deep breath, Tommy grabbed the gifts off the back seat and marched boldly up to the door.

  Ray answered, clearly shocked. So much so, he put his hand over his mouth and said nothing for what seemed like ages.

  ‘You OK, Ray? I bumped into Yvonne Purdy recently and she said you’d been ill. I had to come and see you. I brought you this,’ Tommy said, handing Ray a bottle of Jack Daniels.

  ‘Tommy! Jesus! What a lovely surprise this is. And don’t you look smart, all suited and booted.’

  ‘Is Connie around? I brought her these,’ Tommy said, brandishing a huge bouquet from behind his back. ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Of course you can, lad. But beware, Connie was very upset you lost touch with us and your friends. She might be a bit off with you. She’s in the office.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I know I should’ve kept in touch with everyone.’

  Remembering what Tommy had been through before arriving at Maylands, Ray put a comforting arm around his shoulders. He’d worked in the care system long enough to fathom Tommy was still a troubled soul, even now. He had that look in his eyes.

  Gesticulating for Tommy to follow him, Ray tapped on the office door. ‘We’ve a visitor, Connie. A blast from the past.’

  ‘Come in.’ Connie’s expression darkened as she locked eyes with Tommy. He looked every inch the little gangster she’d heard he’d become. ‘What do you want?’ she asked, her tone unfriendly.

  ‘I heard Ray was ill and wanted to come and see you both. I brought you these.’ Tommy awkwardly put the flowers on the desktop.

  Ray shuffled from foot to foot, as he always did when anxious. ‘I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be in the kitchen, Tommy.’

  ‘So, what is it you want exactly?’ Connie spat.

  Tommy bowed his head. He hadn’t exactly expected the red carpet treatment, but neither had he prepared himself for this kind of rebuff. ‘Look, I’m sorry for not keeping in touch with anyone, Connie. But as you well know, shit happens in life. I was a wet-behind-the-ears sixteen-year-old when I left ’ere. I’m married with a son of my own now and can clearly see the error of my ways.’ Tommy placed an envelope on Connie’s desk. ‘There’s a grand in th
ere. Take the kids on a nice trip and buy them some new toys.’

  ‘Well, I hope you’re happy in life, Tommy, and I wish you well for the future.’ Connie’s tone was cold, harsh in fact. ‘But I don’t want your money, thank you very much. I know where it’s come from and that sort of money isn’t welcome here.’

  Tommy stared at the photos on the wall of past residents. Smiffy’s was there, Dumbo’s and Benny’s, but there wasn’t one of him. That hurt. Clocking the framed photo on Connie’s desk, Tommy picked it up.

  ‘Put that down,’ Connie screeched.

  Ignoring Connie’s order, Tommy stared at the image. Scratch was in the photo with an older couple, a girl and a little boy. ‘She looks happy. Is she?’ Tommy asked.

  Connie snatched the photo out of Tommy’s hands and put it inside a drawer. ‘She went to live with a family after she left here. Became a nanny to their two children. She’s doing fine. No thanks to you, mind. I never had you down as a coward, Tommy. All you had to do was ring me or Ray and we could have let that poor girl down gently. All day she sat out the front waiting for you. She was adamant you wouldn’t let her down.’

  Tommy felt choked. He still had the photo hidden away that Scratch had given him before he’d left, but he could never bring himself to look at it. Neither could he play the record she’d given him: ‘Tears on My Pillow’. ‘I’m truly sorry and am so pleased she’s happy now. What about Benny and Dumbo? Do they keep in touch?’