The Sting

by Kimberley Chambers

The liquid stung as it hit the back of Kim’s throat, but immediately made her feel better, calmer. ‘I’m sorry I lied to you and if you don’t think I’m up for this job, I totally understand.’

  Hunter smiled. Kim rarely saw him smile. His teeth were reasonably white, considering he was a chain-smoker. ‘Actually, I think you’re perfect for this job. No more lies though. If SO10 give it the go-ahead, any problems or doubts you might have, you come straight to me. Comprende?’

  ‘Yes, Guv.’

  An hour later, a 728 form was on its way to New Scotland Yard with a big red stamp on the back that said DELIVER BY HAND.

  If only Kim knew then what would happen, she would have snatched that form back and ripped it into a thousand tiny pieces.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Lunchtimes at Churchill’s were usually quiet, but today was busy. Word had got around that Danny’s wife Lucy had given birth to a daughter yesterday and many of the regulars had popped in to wet the baby’s head. Probably because they knew the bubbly would be free, Tommy thought to himself.

  Danny Darling was on cloud nine. ‘She’s so fucking beautiful. Look at her, mate,’ he urged, showing Tommy yet another snap of the newborn.

  The child was perfect and Tommy could not help but feel a sharp stab of envy. He would have loved a daughter himself. ‘She’s a little stunner, Dan. You decided on a name yet?’

  ‘Annabel. Lucy chose it. I wasn’t keen on it at first, but it’s kind of grown on me. Archie and Annabel has a certain ring to it, don’tcha think?’ Danny beamed. ‘I want you to be her godfather, of course.’

  ‘I’d be honoured,’ Tommy smiled. He was already godfather to Archie and Danny was Robbie’s godfather. ‘Honestly, I’m proper chuffed for you, mate, and Lucy.’

  ‘Who would have thought when we first met at the canal, when I chased off those lads who jumped you, that all these years later we’d be best mates, related, and have kids of our own. We were only kids ourselves back then. Mad when you think about it, ain’t it?’

  ‘Sure is,’ Tommy grinned.

  ‘You and Donna should have another baby. I know you and her aren’t exactly Romeo and Juliet, but it would bring you closer together. You’re a brilliant dad.’

  Tommy was saved from answering by Eugene grabbing his arm. ‘There’s some geezer outside asking for you, Tom. He reckons you were once best mates. Can’t see it meself, mind. The bloke’s a ringer for Rodney Trotter,’ Eugene laughed.

  Tommy shot out the front. ‘Dumbo! Fuck me, you look smart.’ The suit was ill-fitting, but Dumbo looked far better than when Tommy had last seen him pissed in the Cross Keys in Dagenham.

  Thrilled that Tommy seemed genuinely pleased to see him, Dumbo grinned. ‘I been for an interview up town. I heard you worked here a while back, so thought I’d pay you a visit. I want to set up a Shitlands reunion. Scratch suggested it.’

  ‘Scratch!’ Tommy felt his heart beat wildly. ‘You seen her?’

  ‘Yeah. She turned up out of the blue the other day. She ain’t a skinhead no more, Tommy. Her hair is long and she’s ever so pretty now.’

  ‘Is she married? Got kids?’

  ‘No. She’s single and lives with her friend.’

  Back against the wall, Tommy sank to his haunches. This had knocked him for six, but for once it was a very welcome surprise indeed.

  ‘Where the fuck you been all day?’ Banksy asked, when his partner finally appeared at her desk.

  ‘Mind your own bastard business,’ Kim retorted. Her background had helped her fit in well in such a male-dominated environment. She gave as good as she got, always. ‘Where’s the guv?’

  ‘Having one of his long liquid lunches, I should imagine. Why? Got the hots for him all of a sudden, have ya? Speaking of which, I shagged some bird who reminded me of you last night.’

  ‘Lucky you. As long as you were thinking of her, not me, as you shot your load. That’s if you were sober enough to raise a gallop in the first place, of course.’

  Banksy chuckled. ‘Something’s going down. Enlighten me. Go on.’

  ‘You’ll find out soon enough,’ Kim retorted. It had been a gruelling couple of days. Yesterday she’d been risk-assessed, and today it had felt like taking a trip back down memory lane. She needed to get into Scratch’s head again. What would Scratch wear now? What hobbies would she have? What type of job would she be in? The music question had been by far the easiest to answer as Kim and Scratch would be into exactly the same bands: UB40, Madness, and the Jam.

  ‘Regan, in my office,’ Hunter ordered when he returned minutes later.

  Wondering if there was a problem, Kim was relieved when Hunter smiled at her as she sat down. ‘I’ve just spoken to SO10. It’s all systems go. I’ll be briefing the team later this afternoon. Don’t let me down now, Regan. This is a biggie. I’m naming it Operation Sting.’

  Donna Darling eyed her husband suspiciously. He seemed happier, had the swagger back in his step. ‘You look smart and smell very nice. Where is it you’re going again?’ Donna asked, knowing full well where he was off to.

  ‘I already told ya. Having a reunion with some old pals I grew up with.’

  ‘Seeing as these pals of yours were in care, don’t you think a suit is a bit formal? I also think you might have overdone it with the Kouros. Did you pour the whole bottle over yourself?’ Donna taunted. She’d guessed by Tommy’s change of mood and the effort he’d made to spruce himself up that he would be seeing the infamous Scratch this evening.

  ‘Why do you always have to be so nasty?’

  For a split second, Donna felt a tad guilty. Any love she’d had for Tommy had diminished the moment his penis had packed up. But she didn’t hate him. She actually hoped Scratch might take him off her hands. That would make everything so much easier. After her mother’s unhelpfulness, she was still searching for a way to break the news of her relationship with Josh to her father. As for her pregnancy, she had yet to tell anybody bar Josh about that. Not even her best pal was in on the secret. ‘I’m sorry. I hope you have a good night, Tom.’

  Ignoring the cheating bitch he’d married, Tommy picked up his son and planted a smacker on his forehead. ‘Be a good boy for Mummy, and we’ll go play football over the park in the morning.’

  Robbie grinned and flung his arms around Tommy’s neck. ‘Can I be the goalkeeper, Dad? When I’m a big boy, I want to be like Pat Jennings.’

  Donna suddenly felt slightly nauseous. For all Tommy’s faults, he was and had always been a great father to Robbie. She didn’t even know if Josh liked football, she thought guiltily.

  *

  The Darlings were surprisingly supportive when Tommy admitted it was Dumbo who’d turned up at Churchill’s to organize a reunion.

  ‘Go enjoy yourself, lad. Take your Merc, and show ’em how far you’ve come. If you get slaughtered, don’t drive it home, mind. Take the following day off an’ all, no worries,’ Jack had said.

  ‘Get a cab home and I’ll take you to pick your car up whenever,’ Danny had insisted.

  What Tommy hadn’t told the Darlings was there was only himself, Scratch and Dumbo meeting up. Benny was in prison, Smiffy dead. It had only ever been the five of them. Nobody else had mattered.

  As he neared the Farmhouse Tavern, Tommy could sense his heartbeat increasing. He and Scratch once had a special bond. Something he had never had with Donna. Perhaps only two abused children, who’d gone on to lose their virginity to one another, could truly understand that. All he could do was pray she didn’t hate him now. He’d felt far happier these past few days than he’d felt in bloody years.

  Kim was feeling slightly unsure of herself. SO10 had insisted that someone from SO11 be present for this initial meet, and that alone had put her on edge.

  ‘How do I look? Do you think I’ve overdone it with the make-up?’ she asked Sam. These past few days they’d been at it non-stop, moving into their police-owned temporary accommodation, a two-bedroom flat in Rainham. Kim’s hair had been permed
and yesterday she’d spent most of the day shopping for clothes and accessories that Scratch would now wear. She could remember Tommy once liking her in a miniskirt, so that’s what she’d opted for.

  Sam wolf-whistled, then laughed. She barely recognized Kim. ‘If I weren’t so loved up, I’d definitely give you one with me strap-on. Does he like his women wearing lots of make-up?’

  Having seen a photo of Tommy’s wife, Kim shrugged. ‘I suppose he must do. He married one.’

  The flat was wired for sound, with a camera hidden in a plant pot in the lounge. Hunter had wanted her to wear a wire, but Kim had flatly refused. She didn’t feel comfortable with the surveillance team being forced upon her, let alone wearing a wire, and she would certainly need to gain Tommy’s trust before she could start asking him awkward questions anyway. ‘You ready to drop me off?’

  Dressed in a London Underground uniform, Sam stood up. That was her cover story. She was a ticket collector who’d met Scratch in a boozer in Barking in 1980, and they’d been best mates ever since.

  ‘Tommy!’ Dumbo shrieked. Dumbo was wearing jeans, T-shirt and Puma trainers and Tommy immediately felt over-dressed. Donna wasn’t usually right, but he’d definitely gone overboard turning up in a crisp white shirt and tailored suit. He felt like a wanker.

  ‘What you drinking, Dumbo?’

  ‘Pint of Coke, please. I don’t drink alcohol any more.’

  ‘What, not at all?’

  ‘No. My drinking got really bad at one point, so I knocked it on the head completely.’

  Tommy sauntered up to the bar and ordered himself a large brandy and a pint. He felt so bloody nervous. Should he bring up his failure to show up at Maylands on Scratch’s birthday as he’d once promised? Or should he let sleeping dogs lie and see if she mentioned his betrayal?

  Tommy put the drinks on the table and sat down. ‘So how did Scratch get back in touch with you? I meant to ask the other day.’

  Dumbo looked out of the window and smiled. ‘You can ask her yourself. Don’t she look different now?’

  Tommy gasped as she walked into the pub. She was wearing a faded short denim skirt, a baggy black top with pink lips on the front and black stiletto sandals. Her blonde hair was now past her shoulders, a shaggy perm, and her bright pink lipstick matched the motif on her top. She looked a bit like Debbie Harry, who was better known in the music world as Blondie. Tommy stood up. ‘Wow! You look incredible. It’s so good to see you again.’

  Scratch grinned. She had to keep thinking of herself as Scratch now, not Kim. ‘You’re not looking so bad yourself, Tommy Boyle.’

  Tommy gave her an awkward hug. ‘What can I get you to drink?’

  ‘Half a lager and lime, please. I’m a cheap date, me,’ Scratch chuckled.

  ‘Shall we sit in the beer garden?’ Dumbo suggested.

  ‘Yeah, let’s.’ Tommy had so many questions he wanted to ask, but didn’t know where to start, so he let Dumbo lead the conversation. ‘Did you hear about Wayne Bradley?’ Dumbo asked.

  ‘No,’ Scratch lied. ‘What happened to him?’

  Dumbo explained the story of him getting arrested for raping a mother and her daughter.

  ‘Fucking arsehole. He was always a wrong ’un, wasn’t he?’ She could see the surveillance team a few tables away. If anything were to go wrong, she’d been told to empty her handbag upside down on the table and pretend to search for something. One of the team had a West Ham shirt on, the other cropped hair and an earring. No way would Tommy or Dumbo sense they were Old Bill.

  ‘He sure was. Once a piece of shit, always a piece of shit,’ Tommy added. ‘So, where you living now, Scratch?’ he asked, keen to change the subject.

  ‘Rainham. I share a flat with my mate. We’ve only recently moved there from Ockendon. Our old landlord wanted to sell up. Rainham’s a better place, to be honest. It’s nearer to work for me.’

  ‘What do you do?’ Tommy enquired.

  ‘Nothing glam. I work in an office as a typist. I like it though. The girls are nice and we have a good laugh.’

  ‘Does your mate who you live with work there too?’ Tommy was wondering if Scratch’s mate was a bloke.

  ‘No. Lee works for the Underground. Her real name’s Leanne, but she hates being called that. She’s a lesbian,’ Scratch explained. Sam’s undercover name was Leanne Jones.

  ‘Are you and her an item then?’ asked Dumbo.

  ‘Goodness, no,’ Scratch laughed. ‘She has a girlfriend and I’m happily single. What about you two? I heard you got married and had a son, Tommy.’

  ‘I’m happily single too. I do sometimes shag my next-door neighbour though. She’s thirty-five,’ Dumbo announced proudly.

  Tommy and Scratch both chuckled. Dumbo had well and truly broken the ice with that little nugget.

  ‘My son Robbie’s six now. Top little lad, he is. My marriage is shite though. Donna and I are like ships that pass in the night. We got wed far too young,’ Tommy admitted.

  ‘Sorry to hear that, Tommy,’ Dumbo said.

  ‘Me too.’ Scratch squeezed Tommy’s arm as a gesture of comfort. He didn’t look happy. His cheeky grin was still there, but he had a deadness behind his eyes. Serves you fucking right for leaving me in the lurch, she thought to herself.

  Dumbo stood up. ‘Who wants another drink?’

  Tommy pulled out a wad of notes and handed Dumbo a score. ‘Here you go – I’ll have a pint of lager.’

  ‘Thanks, Tom. I am a bit skint, as it goes. I didn’t get that job I went for up town.’

  ‘What job was that?’ Scratch enquired.

  ‘It was for assistant manager of a bar. That’s what I do now, I’m a barman. That’s why I don’t drink any more either.’

  ‘That’s a shame, Dumbo. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open for you,’ Scratch said.

  Desperate to impress the woman he could barely take his eyes off, Tommy grinned. ‘I might be able to help you out, Dumbo. Danny and I kind of run the business these days and we sacked someone for thieving the other day. The bar’s in South London, mind. The one you found me at. That too far for you to travel? Where you living now?’

  ‘At the Fiddlers. No, Tommy, I drive – I got my own little van, so could easily get there.’

  ‘Aww, that’s so nice of you, Tommy,’ Scratch said, touching his arm again. It actually made her feel quite cheap and nasty when she remembered how she’d once thrown herself at him. They’d done it over the Castle at Dagenham East and even in alleyways. She certainly wasn’t that sordid person any more.

  Tommy stood up. ‘I’ll phone Jack now. Run it past him. Jack’s like the dad I never had. He even changed my surname by deed poll to his. I’m Tommy Darling now, not Boyle,’ Tommy grinned.

  ‘Really?’ Scratch exclaimed.

  Dumbo got the drinks in and when Tommy returned from the public phone inside the pub, he had some very good news. ‘Can you start on Friday? You got a week’s trial.’

  Dumbo beamed at Scratch, then Tommy. ‘You bet I bloody can.’

  Within the hour, the conversation flowed like they’d never left Maylands.

  ‘What about that time I chored those sweatshirts in Romford, and the stallholder saw me and chased me the length of the market. I sent the man on the fruit and veg stall sprawling and he dropped a whole crate of bananas,’ Dumbo chuckled.

  Tommy and Scratch both creased up. ‘Then the bloke who was chasing you trod on the bananas and went flying. Me and Smiffy went back to see if he was OK and they’d called an ambulance. Poor sod had a broken leg,’ Tommy laughed.

  ‘The funniest thing ever was when that horse chased you in those fields opposite here, Dumbo. I laughed so much watching you try to get away from it, I literally wet myself a bit,’ Scratch chuckled.

  ‘Yeah, that day was a blast. You weren’t no angel yourself, though, Scratch. Remember when the bird in the Jean Joint chased you up the Heathway? You ran into the station, spotted a train coming on the opposite side, ran across the tracks, got on
it and got off at Dagenham East, and you still had all the chored gear,’ Tommy laughed.

  Scratch forced a chuckle. She so hoped S011 couldn’t hear the conversation. She was a bloody pillar of the community these days, not that skinhead tearaway she’d once been.

  They reminisced for hours, holwing over the lost memories and trying not to talk about the lost years.

  By closing time, Tommy was feeling slightly inebriated. It had been a brilliant evening. The last time he’d laughed so much was when Jack took him and the lads to the races. What a day that had been. Jack had been given a tip on a 25–1 outsider. They’d all put a grand on it and the horse had romped home. Afterwards, they’d ended up in some dodgy nightclub and had a blast.

  Tommy raised his brandy glass. ‘To Smiffy,’ he toasted. That fairground incident had understandably had a deep impact on their lives. None of them had ever visited a fairground since, all agreed they couldn’t face it.

  ‘I’m gonna make a move. My neighbour’s waiting up for me,’ Dumbo grinned. ‘We must meet up again soon. I am so happy I got a job, Tommy. Thank you.’

  ‘Yeah. See you at noon on Friday, mate. I’ll make sure I’m there to show you the ropes. No letting me down though. Put it this way: if Jack hadn’t known the father of the lad he just sacked, he would’ve chopped his thieving fucking hands off,’ Tommy chuckled.

  Scratch hugged Dumbo, then sat back down. ‘It’s been nice to catch up, hasn’t it?’

  Her eyes were beautiful, Tommy thought. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? ‘I’m sorry, ya know, for not turning up that time.’

  ‘Shit happens, Tommy. We were no more than kids back then.’

  Tommy reached out and squeezed Scratch’s hand. ‘But we had something special, didn’t we? I’ve never had that connection with Donna that I had with you.’

  ‘I am genuinely sorry your marriage isn’t a happy one. But yes, what we had was very special.’ She looked into his cold dead eyes as though she’d waited to say this every day for years, ‘I’ve never felt it with anyone else either. I missed you Tommy Boyle.’

  Tommy’s eyes lit up. ‘Really?’