The Estate_Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold Read online

  THE ESTATE

  BY KAREN WOODS

  EMPIRE PUBLICATIONS - MANCHESTER

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thank you to all my readers for their support over the years. Thanks to my friends and family and my children Ashley, Blake, Declan and Darcy. A big thanks to my friend and my rock; my husband James for always being there and supporting me. A big thanks to Ashley and John at Empire and and all my Facebook and Twitter friends.

  And as always my son Dale who is now with his uncle Daz…

  Karen Woods

  PROLOGUE

  Melanie Smith lay in bed and yawned. It was already afternoon and she’d still not stirred out of her pit, the lazy cow. Why she’d want to spend anytime in her bedroom was a mystery. The room was scruffy; ripped wallpaper hung from the walls in each corner of the room, black mould crept along the woodchip towards the window sills. Her mother Marion had reported it to the local authorities but, as of yet, they’d not been to the house to have a look at it. Lazy fuckers. If they had been any more laid back they would be asleep. Everything with the council was a waiting game. Even the simplest of repairs took months to get done. It was bad really, especially when tenants were paying full rent to live in shit-holes.

  It had always been Melanie’s intention to finish stripping her bedroom but she’d not got around to it. There was no rush in her eyes. Who would see inside her bedroom anyway? The family had already been threatened with eviction and they were on their last legs if they didn’t keep up with rent payments. The whole house needed a lick of paint. It hadn’t been touched in years. Arthur, her father, had enough with going to work never mind doing any DIY, he was bone idle. He was a man’s man, he went to work and put bread on the table and that was more than enough in his eyes. He loved a few pints after work too, it was what he deserved after a hard day’s graft, he said. Many an argument had been caused over the jobs Arthur hadn’t done; cupboard doors hanging off, the garden overgrown, shelves hanging from the walls. His wife had told him straight that the house was falling apart but he didn’t give it a second thought. He didn’t think it was his problem.

  Melanie Smith was sixteen, the eldest of two children. She wasn’t what you would call pretty but there was something about her that was pleasing to the eye. None of her family were good looking and her mother Marion had always told her that she’d inherited her father’s ugly genes. His sisters were ugly, and his brothers too; with big fat noses and greasy skin. They weren’t a good-looking family at all. Marion was always confirming this fact to her husband, she loved winding him up whenever she got the chance. Especially, when he was getting above his station and finding fault with her.

  Melanie reached down to the floor and pressed the play button on the cassette recorder. This was her pride and joy and every Sunday night without fail she would tape the top twenty songs from the radio. It was funny to listen to because half way through some of the songs you could hear people talking in the background and Melanie kicking off telling them to be quiet. This was all the kids had to record the songs they liked. Nobody had a record player anyway to play the vinyl, they were too expensive. Well, maybe the posh kids did, but Melanie wasn’t one of them. Blondie’s song “Union City Blues” played at full pelt and she lay in her bed singing her head off. She sounded like a strangled cat, high-pitched. It was a wonder the neighbours weren’t hammering on the wall telling her to be quiet. The neighbours were like that; any loud noises and they would bang on the wall with shoes, sticks and shout abuse at her to keep the noise down. She was young and living her life, what was their problem? Had they never been young or what, they were fossils to her bleeding miseries.

  Melanie shot her eyes over to her Blondie poster and sang every word to the blonde pop star. Debbie Harry was her idol, the woman she wanted to be when she was older. She loved music. When her father had first seen Boy George on the TV he said how good looking he was. The daft git thought he was a woman and not a man. He was distraught when she told him that he was fancying a geezer. “I’m not watching that big puffter dressed in women’s clothes. What the hell is wrong with him wearing a dress like that, where’s his pants?” he moaned. Marion found it hilarious too and she joked with him all the time about his sexuality whenever she got the chance. It was an easy mistake to make though, he did look like a woman. Melanie knew every song all the way through. Maybe the words were not all correct, but she never told anyone that. She just sung the song her way.

  The bedroom door opened and in walked her seven-year old brother William. This kid was so cute, angelic. His thick framed black National Health glasses made his eyes look a lot bigger than what they were and every kid on the estate had taken the piss out of this poor kid at one time or another. Specky-four-eyes was a favourite phrase they used. It was just the law of the jungle out there, nobody was safe from abuse. The estate was like that, you had to be tough and learn to fight back, defend yourself and give as good as you got, if you wanted to survive. It was all banter though.

  The Two-Hundred estate where they lived was newly built, and a lot of the families had been moved there due to the flats being knocked down. A lot of the older generation had grown up in Collyhurst flats and some of the tales from there would make your toes curl. Melanie’s mother used to tell some great stories about the characters who lived there. From her mother’s bedroom window she could see Willert Street police station and many a night her mum would sit peeping through her net curtains watching who the dibble had arrested. It was an eerie place that sent chills down her mum’s spine whenever she walked passed it. There was always lots of noise, screaming, swearing. She said that every weekend it was the same, there was always someone getting their collar felt. It was usually some pissed up man who couldn’t take his ale. Marion told stories around the coal fire throughout their childhood and even now when Melanie was lay in bed in the midnight hour she would pull the bed sheets over her head to protect herself. Maybe the stories Marion told backfired on her sometimes because late at night when she was sleeping there would always have one of her children climbing into the bottom of her bed telling her they were frightened. There was always one of them who wet the bed too, oh yes, her mum’s scary stories had a lot to answer for. Melanie was wise to her mother’s stories now that she was a bit older and took the tales with a pinch of salt. Bullshit they were, completely made up.

  William climbed onto the bed and lay next to his big sister, cuddling her. He knew not to speak to her until the song had gone off. She had to hear every single word, every lyric before she would speak to him. William sat holding his “Action Man” in his left hand. The sliding eye switch at the back of his toy’s head wasn’t working and the figure had been cross-eyed for over two days now. Maybe the action man’s eyes were like his own, one had gone to the shop and the other had come back with the change. Melanie sat up in her bed, this was the finale the end of the songs, the drums were beating, the guitar was booming, and Blondie’s voice was at full pelt. Melanie punched her clenched fist into the air and nodded her head at speed. William was used to his sister’s wild ways and just sat quietly trying to straighten his action figure’s eyes. William was not a planned child, and he came as a total surprise to the family. Marion didn’t think she could have any more children as her periods were up the wall. She didn’t even know she was pregnant until she was six-months gone. He was a miracle child, that’s what her father had told her anyway. William loved playing with action figures, he had a great imagination and spent hours playing on his own creating his own fantasy world. He was a bit of a loner really.

  Marion had found the toy for her son a few months ago. She said she found it in the s
treet and said it was “a gift from God”. She would never have been able to afford this present on her income. Never in a month of Sundays. Melanie had questioned her mother’s good fortune though, something was not right. How lucky was she to find a brand new boxed toy just days before her brother’s birthday? In fact, Marion was a very lucky woman indeed she always came across things for free or, so she said, things like meat, milk, and clothes. Maybe she was a thief, maybe not.

  Melanie sat up straight and looked at her Blondie poster, she’d examine every inch of the pop star. “I want to do my eyes like her. I’m going to ask my mam if she can get me some bright blue eye-shadow. In fact, I want to dye my hair blonde and have some dark brown put underneath it too.”

  William was still playing with the button at the back of his toy figure. “You know she won’t let you dye your hair. So you will have to be called Brownie, instead of Blondie.” Melanie sniggered, her younger brother was a joker and he made her smile with some of the comments he made. He may have been specky, but she still loved every inch of him. She was forever fighting his battles on the estate when the kids were having a pop at him. She could call her brother names, but God help anyone else who did. She would rip their bleeding head off and give them a bunch of fives. Melanie plonked back down on the bed. She turned her tape player down slightly and hugged her brother closely. The bedroom was freezing, and you could blow thick grey smoke from your mouth some mornings. William snuggled up, his cheeks cold. His voice was low and she knew he was after something just by the way he was looking at her with those sad puppy dog eyes. “Can I come out with you today and come logging for the bommy?”

  Melanie didn’t answer straight away. Logging was a dangerous game and to go searching for big pieces of wood for the bonfire was something she didn’t want her younger brother involved in. It was the same every year. The battle between each estate to make the biggest bonfire was fierce. They stole wood from each other and every now and then if their enemy’s bonfire was left unattended they would burn it down. It was a dog eat dog world in the month of November. Melanie had been involved in many a scrap with her rivals from the other estates and, she had a bit of a name for being a fighter too. She had some serious moves, she was fast and always on target when she threw a punch. Melanie was a tomboy and her black leather monkey boots were something that she treasured. She’d received these boots on her sixteenth birthday and everybody in the household sat around the kitchen table while she opened them. Unfortunately, these were not a gift from the Gods and Marion had got into debt for them. She had to borrow money from a local loan shark to give her daughter the best birthday present ever. Everybody knew the loan man, he was a fat balding man in his late fifties. Most families who lived on the estate hit hard times at one time or another and Bob was always there to offer them a lifeline. He was a rip-off merchant who preyed on the poor. He didn’t like late payments either, just one missed payment and he’d have his heavy mob booming your door down. They’d take your TV too. If you couldn’t pay, they’d take it away. Bastards they were. Marion was already up to her limit with her Littlewoods catalogue. No sooner had she made her payment than it was due again because she chose to pay for items over twelve months instead of straight away.

  William was still holding out for an answer. He smiled softly at his sister. Pleading with her. “Please let me come with you. I can wait by the bonfire until you come back. Please, my mam said I’ll have to go with her to the market if I can’t come with you. Please!” he begged.

  This was a big responsibility. There was already a battle planned for later this afternoon. The Monsall estate kids wanted war with her crew and Melanie and her gang were more than ready to give it them. They’d already got together their weapons for the battle; sticks, sharp edged stones, and anything else they could launch at the opponents. The Monsall kids were out and out bastards, ruthless they were. They didn’t care if a brick hit you on the head or they drew blood, it was all part and parcel of the scrap. You see, they had an adventure playground on their estate and they guarded it around the clock. If you weren’t from that estate, then there was no way they would allow you within an inch of the wooden slide or the zip wire. This was their domain and God help any kid who went over enemy lines to seek some fun. Melanie had been in the sacred ground though, more than once. It was only by luck really. It was a time when she was off school, and nobody was about. That was one of the best days of her life. She played for hours there. She didn’t care that she had ended up with big splinters in the cheeks of her arse and legs, it had been worth it. Lenny Jackson was the leader of the Monsall estate gang and John Pearson from Melanie’s gang was always watching his back for this big ginger lunatic. The two had already come to blows when they set up a marbles tournament on the grids between each estate. It was a big day that most kids came to watch. Each gang come with their bag of marbles that were up for grabs; cats-eyes, dobbers and allies. Nobody was ever ready to lose their prize possessions. The qualifying heats had been played and lots of children sat there with faces like smacked arses. They’d lost their collection of marbles, the ones they treasured, they were gutted. Nothing could be done either, they now belonged to someone else. Those were the breaks.

  The two finalists sat eagerly waiting to play the final. The grid was wiped clean with a quick flick of the wrist by Lenny Jackson. His friends stood behind him and they were shouting. “Come on Lenny, take his dobbers, take the lot.” John Pearson smirked over at his team and chuckled. “He’s not taking nothing from me, just you watch. I’ll win hands down” All the kids gathered around and each of them were ready to fight if needed. Melanie stood behind John and her heart was beating rapidly. There was two big multi-coloured dobbers up for grabs here, a carousel of bright colours on each round glass marble. Lenny knelt down and folded his index finger to the side. He tried a few practice throws first but never once did he touch the glass ball with his finger. If you touched it, even slightly, it was your shot over. Those were the rules and no matter what the excuse you gave everybody had to obey them. Lenny bent down slightly, he positioned his finger. His move was on point, the sound of the marble travelling along the grey iron grid. He smiled as he turned back to his friends. “That’s the winning shot for sure, go and try and beat that,” he sneered over at John. The shot was not in the middle of the grid but after his next shot he was guaranteed to take his opponents dobber.

  John gulped and turned his head back slightly to Melanie. He had to pull this out of the bag. Concentrate, keep his cool. She placed her hand on the top of his shoulder and squeezed it softly. “Just keep calm and relax. You’ve got this. Just take your time.” There were noises from up above. The other members of the gang were trying to put him off. Melanie screamed out at the top of her voice to make sure she was heard. “Lenny, sort your pack out before I smash their heads in. None of us were talking when you took your shot. So, keep them quiet. Play fair.”

  Lenny growled at the kids behind him, his face turning beetroot, ears pinned back. “Shut your gobs now. If I lose this game I swear, each of you will be getting a black eye.” His warriors took orders well and not one of them flinched. Lenny knelt up eagerly waiting for John to take his shot. Lenny was an ugly specimen; ginger hair, big brown freckles, and he always had a snotty nose, green bubbles coming out of his nostril whenever he spoke. But, he’d earned respect from his gang from the start. He was half Irish and his father made sure he was boxing ring from an early age. A few of the kids had been to watch him fight. He was quick and always flattened his opponent. Here it was, John was ready to take his shot. He licked the edge of his finger and dipped his head. Lenny was bent down low too, he wanted to make sure there was no foul play here. Melanie squeezed her eyes together tightly, she couldn’t watch. The dobber moved off with speed. It looked like a good shot. Hold on, it was going too fast and heading off the grid. It wasn’t looking good. Lenny knew the game was his and as soon as the dobber rolled from the grid he reached over and grabbed it.

>   “Boom, I knew I would win it. Look at this, it’s a beauty. Do you want one last look at it John before I put it with my collection?” John sneered over at him. Lenny opened his black leather marble pouch and slid the dobber inside it. “Lovely to do business with you John. Maybe next time you might be lucky. Doubt it though, I’m shit hot, as you know.” Lenny was full of himself. John clenched his fists together and jumped to his feet, his teeth gritted tightly together. “I want it back, my finger slipped.” He was lying, he had done no such thing. He’d lost the game fair and square.

  Lenny was already walking away, and his gang were celebrating with him. He was the champion, the man. Melanie held John back by the scruff of his neck, dragging him back. “You lost. Stop being a mard arse.” John Pearson was gutted to say goodbye to his big glass dobber. He’d lost it fair and square though and there was nothing he could do about it. He was gutted.

  Melanie stood in the front room with William stood closely behind her, hiding away from his mother. He’d got a day pass with her today and relieved that he didn’t have to go to Conran street market with his mum. It was freezing today and he knew that she would have had him out in the perishing cold talking to all her friends on the stalls. The market was a meeting place for all the community. If you ever wanted to find someone this was the place to go. You could buy everything on this market at great prices; new shoes, coats, food, and bedding. The indoor food hall was always warmer than it was outside, and his mother always went there to trade in her old magazines, a lot of the women always turned up there for their reading material. In the food hall there was a sweet stall and Melanie and her friends were always regular visitors there if they ever had any money. You could buy every kind of sweet at this market stall; Black Jacks, Fruit Salads, Kop-Kops, lemon sherbets, cola cubes, all the favourites of the gang. Now, William was watching every move his sister made. This deal was not set in stone yet and in the past Melanie had snuck out of the door without him noticing.