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  It was already dark as Donny drove down the dimly lit side street, unaware of the black car that had been trailing him – always at a safe distance – since he left the pub. Melanie was applying lipstick using a mirror she’d fished out of her bag. It was like she was going for a night out, rather than heading home.

  ‘What number?’

  ‘Oh, sorry. Erm, number twenty-five. Just carry on up past the lamp-post and I’m on the left.’ Donny drove a few yards further and pulled up outside the house. Behind him the black car pulled over too, still far enough away not to be noticed. Melanie was in no rush to get out. She sat looking at him and Donny started to worry she was going to go in for a kiss. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was all he needed. He braced himself to push her away, but now she was looking out of the window, clearly nervous about getting out – he could see that her hands were trembling. She looked back at him once she’d completed her recce of the dark street. ‘At least he’s not about tonight, stalking me.’

  Donny found himself looking in his rearview mirror to check there was no one lurking. ‘Go on, quick, get inside. I’ll watch til you’re in safely.’ She opened the door slowly. ‘You’re OK. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you in work tomorrow, Donny, and thanks for the drink. Maybe we can do it again sometime?’

  Donny just wanted to get out of there. He tried not to let his impatience show. ‘Yes, yeah, great, see you at school. Night.’ At last she was gone. He pulled away quickly; she didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get indoors. As he looked back through his wing mirror, he could see her still stood on the street watching him drive off. ‘Bloody hell,’ he mumbled under his breath. ‘That was a close one.’

  As Donny headed home, he turned up the stereo; his tunes were pumping and he was singing his head off, lost in the lyrics. His phone was ringing again but he ignored it. Whoever it was could wait. He was going home and putting his feet up, chilling. Today had been a long day, a very long one indeed.

  As soon as he let himself in the front door, Donny spotted Susan’s car keys on the hall table. He was confused; hadn’t she said she was meeting up with Sadie? He walked into the kitchen and saw his wife sat at the table drinking a glass of red wine. She looked stressed.

  ‘Hello, baby, I thought you was doing counselling for your nutty mate tonight?’

  She ran her finger slowly around the top of her glass and lifted her eyes up to meet his. ‘I changed my mind, couldn’t face it. Just rang her instead. Where have you been anyway?’

  Donny thought on his feet. She’d go ape if she knew where he’d really been. He avoided eye contact. ‘I had a few things to catch up with at work, you know, emails and that, remember I said this morning?’ She narrowed her eyes, watched him carefully as he walked across the kitchen to get a glass. ‘I phoned you, you never answered.’ He still couldn’t look at her and dipped his head in a cupboard.

  ‘I was going to ring for a takeaway – you hungry?’

  ‘No, I feel a bit sick if I’m being honest,’ Susan said quietly. He knew before he looked at her that something was wrong.

  ‘Are you alright? You seem a bit pissed off, have I done something to upset you, babe?’

  Her lips started moving but no words were coming out. He sat down next to her, gave her a hug and she could smell perfume on him, the smell of lies and deceit. ‘I’m just due on my period, my head is banging, and I’ve got terrible cramps.’

  He snuggled his head next to hers and kissed the side of her cheek – like that would make everything OK, the Judas.

  ‘Tell you what, take a couple of tablets, go and get in bed and I’ll order us some food and then I’ll make you a hot water bottle.’

  Susan tried her best to smile but she was struggling. She stood up. ‘OK, I’ll go and get in my pyjamas,’ she said as she left the room.

  In the bathroom she bolted the door with trembling hands and stood with her back to the door. ‘Bastard, bastard, bastard,’ she muttered under her breath. Her husband was a lying, cheating rat and it seemed that her fears were true. Well she’d show him this time. Susan walked over to the bathroom mirror and stared at her reflection. She smiled, nodded her head slowly. It was showtime.

  Chapter Eight

  Ged kept his head low as he walked down the busy Rochdale Road. It was cold tonight and the wind was biting at his ears. He felt a bit anxious. Maybe he should have put his big coat on, it was freezing. His mam had bought him the coat last year; she’d treated him with her work bonus money. Two hundred quid she paid for it, nearly the whole bonus. He never really wore it, kept it for special occasions and there weren’t many of those. Ged carried on walking, constantly looking around him, jumpy. He hated the dark; even now in his teens he always kept a small light switched on in his bedroom at night – not that he’d ever have admitted it to anyone. He didn’t really go out much; bit of a home bird. Friendships were much easier online, anyway. He liked his own company, didn’t mind that most evenings were spent in front of a screen. He could entertain himself – being an only child had probably helped with that, no siblings to wrestle with, to play hide and seek, to sit and talk with. He’d got so used to being a loner he’d forgotten how to do anything else.

  He picked up speed. He didn’t feel safe – maybe he should just turn round and go home. He could make an excuse to Frankie, tell him something had come up that he needed to deal with. He swallowed hard as he spotted Eastford Square in the distance. It had six shops and some landmark thing set in the middle – God knows what it was, some big grey concrete slab just plonked there. All around there were noises, people talking, cars flashing by. A motorbike screeched past too close, his heart was in his mouth, racing, he was shitting himself. What the hell had he said yes for? And then he heard a voice shouting his name in the distance. Ged turned his head quickly and could see Frankie waving over at him. Too late to bottle it. He walked towards him slowly, eyes down.

  Frankie was sat with three other lads, all about the same age, shady-looking, all in black with baseball caps pulled right down so you could barely see their eyes. Dodgy for sure. Ged watched cautiously as Frankie dug into his jacket pocket and passed something to one of the others. He couldn’t see what it was. The guy just walked away, never said a word. Frankie rubbed his hands together, blew on them to try and warm them up a bit. ‘I thought you was going to ring me when you was on your way here, Ged?’

  ‘I forgot, soz. But I can find my way OK.’

  Frankie urged him to sit down. ‘I’ll get us some scran in a minute. The jerk chicken from the Spice Rack is to die for. Do you like jerk chicken?’ Ged nodded, even though the only chicken he’d ever eaten was what his mother had cooked – a Sunday roast. There was no money in their household to be eating takeaways, they were too expensive.

  ‘Yeah, I like it. I’m starving too.’

  Frankie looked over at some more lads stood near him. ‘Right, you should be getting off. I’ll catch you later, ring me if you need anything else,’ he told them. Ged watched them walk off and started to head towards the takeaway with Frankie.

  ‘I’ll get you the same as what I get. I’m a regular here and they know my order soon as they see me.’

  Ged followed, aware of a strong smell of weed. His mother was always on about drugs – when they walked down the market on a Saturday, she would always go off on one when they passed someone smoking it. Ged had never tried anything. He was a good kid underneath the moods and the lip, had never really got caught up in that world – you didn’t get into trouble if you barely left the house.

  Frankie ordered and leant over the top of the counter watching the food being dished up. He licked his lips before passing Ged’s food over with a plastic white fork. ‘Go sit at that table near the window, quick grab it before someone else does. I don’t fancy standing up eating, you don’t enjoy it the same when you’re stood up.’

  Ged carried the polystyrene tray over to the table, it smelt
lovely, rich and spicy. His eyes focused on every scrap of food there, it looked like nothing he’d ever eaten before in his life. He sat down and put a piece of chicken in his mouth. Oh my God, why had he never tasted anything like this before? The spices jumped about on his tongue and he had to open his mouth up wide to help it cool down. Frankie joined him, sat facing Ged and started to tuck in too. He never flinched as he ate his chicken. Clearly had an asbestos mouth.

  Frankie’s mobile started to ring; he answered the call with a mouthful of food, listening to the caller for a few seconds before he replied. ‘Take two brown and a white to the bridge. Don’t be letting him have any on tick either. He’s a cheeky fucker. Tell him he pays what he owes otherwise I’ll snap his jaw.’ He carried on talking while Ged sat staring. He was confused what the call was about and it showed on his face. Frankie looked at him, kept his voice low. ‘That’s how I earn my money, Ged lad. How do you think I get all the top clothes that I wear? My mam and dad are skint. I just sell a few bits to keep me ticking over.’

  ‘Bits of what?’ Ged asked.

  ‘Fuck me, don’t you know the script around here or what?’

  Ged could feel his face burning up. He didn’t even know there was a script, let alone what it said.

  ‘Mate, most of the lads sell a bit of weed around here. It’s easy money if you keep your head down.’

  Ged freaked out a bit inside but did his best not to show it, to act cool. ‘Yeah, a few lads who I know sell it too.’ He was talking out of his arse again. He didn’t know anyone who sold drugs.

  Frankie shovelled in another mouthful of food. ‘You can start earning if you want?’ His mouth was open, Ged could see the bits of chicken half chewed. ‘Start off small and keep it on the low. No pressure, just saying.’

  ‘How would I do that? I don’t know what to do?’ Ged was an innocent – why had he even come here tonight? He’d have been much safer sat at home just playing on his Xbox. He didn’t know much, but he did know that this world was bad, dangerous. He needed out of it before he got in any further.

  ‘You leave all that to me. Let’s say I’m in the know. Eat your food and we can talk about it later.’

  Ged couldn’t argue with that. He didn’t have to say no, he just had to find a way not to say yes, he told himself. And so he tucked in, enjoyed every morsel. He was soon full; he couldn’t eat another mouthful. His phone vibrated with a message. Bloody hell, he never got calls or messages and now it was glowing again with another message. He pulled the phone out, checked the screen.

  Hi Ged, what you up to? Love Nancy

  He showed Frankie – at last, something to make him look cool.

  ‘No flies on that Nancy. I didn’t have her down as being that forward.’ Frankie handed the phone back and chuckled. ‘The girls these days are dirtbags. Trust me mate, stay single and play the field. Having a girlfriend is nothing but stress, I know.’

  Ged pocketed the phone, sticking to the role of cool guy. He’d always been quiet because he didn’t know what to say. Now he realised he could make silence powerful. Better to be a man of few words than say the wrong thing and risking letting Frankie see the nerves and questions he felt inside.

  ‘Yeah, I’ll text her later, no rush is there?’

  Frankie’s phone rang again, and he barked out another message to go to the bridge. Then silence for a few seconds before he spoke again. ‘So, who do you live with?’

  ‘Just my mam, my dad’s in the nick, but he’s home soon. I can’t wait. We’ve got loads of things planned. He said he might get me a motorbike. He rings me when my mam’s at work, she doesn’t even know I speak to him, she would shit a brick if she knew.’

  Frankie raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ‘What’s your old man in the slammer for?’

  ‘Armed robbery, assault, some other stuff.’

  ‘Fuck me, so your dad had a shooter. I want a gun. You need one when you’re in this game.’

  ‘He’s said he’s sorting his head out and going on the straight and narrow. My mam won’t have him near us though, she said he’ll never change.’

  Frankie stroked his chin. ‘It’s hard to change when you’ve been involved in that kind of a world, mate. Who’s going to get a job paying two and half hundred quid a week when they can earn grands doing a few grafts?’

  Ged was wishing this conversation over; he hated talking about his dad, how his life had turned out. Things could have been so different if he’d only kept his head down, got some decent work. But it was always one shit job after another with his dad, one last chance to get enough money to support his family, so they wouldn’t want for anything in their life again.

  Frankie scraped the last bit of food from the white tray. He opened the can of Coke and downed nearly all of it in one go. A massive burp. Ged grinned, glad to be off the topic of his dad. And he could see why Frankie ruled the roost at school – he had confidence, certainty and, yes, this kid was funny. A good friend to have onside.

  ‘Who’s in your gaff now, Ged, is your mam in?’

  Ged shook his head. ‘Nah, she won’t get home till midnight. She works in a bar until late, so I won’t see her until the morning.’

  Frankie looked surprised. ‘Shite that, mate. So, you’re in all night by yourself?’

  ‘Yep, on my Jack all the time if I’m being honest.’

  Frankie seized his chance, draped his arm around Ged’s shoulders. ‘Come on then, let’s chill at yours for a bit. I’m freezing my nuts off standing out here all night. You’ve got FIFA, right?’

  Ged could barely speak. A real life mate, coming to his house, someone to hang with. Maybe actual friends were more of a laugh than online ones…

  ‘Yes, sure. I’m top at it too, I should warn you, if you fancy a game?’

  ‘Game on, mate, come on let’s do one.’

  The two of them set off along the main road, just another two kids out too late, traffic speeding past, police sirens blaring in the distance.

  Chapter Nine

  Tina sat in front of the TV with her husband. She’d finished all her chores, and this was her chill time. Finally. She was watching the end of Coronation Street. Like every night it was on, she’d got her stall set up before her favourite soap started. She loved the northern humour. There were always dramas on the street and for the thirty minutes it was on, it took her away from her own problems. Chris wasn’t keen on the soaps – if he had his way, he’d be watching a nature programme, not what he called ‘this bag of shite’. But she knew if he had his programmes on, claiming it was something educational, he’d still be ignoring the telly and mucking about on his phone. Not so bloody educational, really.

  Tina raised her eyes to the ceiling, it was like a herd of elephants was running about upstairs. Nevaya, her stepdaughter, was a noisy cow at the best of times. No doubt she was getting ready to go out, so it would be the works – a full face of makeup, hair straightened, the lot. Chris’s kids had lived with them since they were small. Their mother just turned up one day, left them on the doorstep like an unwanted parcel. ‘You’ve taken my husband, now take his kids, you slut,’ she’d yelled as she’d dumped them in the doorway.

  Tina had been a bit shellshocked at first, but, after a time, was happy enough to take on the role of surrogate mother. How hard could it be? She did all the stuff you were supposed to; read bedtime stories, baked cakes, mopped up tears when they were upset, cleaned the puke when they were ill. Truth be told, it had been easy enough when they were little but now they were teenagers it was a very different kettle of fish. No gratitude for everything she’d done for them, anything she did for them, no thank yous or appreciation. And it seemed to happen overnight. They went to bed as normal children and got up the following morning spotty, hormonal, ticking time bombs. Nightmares the both of them. Charlie seemed to have decided that he was the man of the house, and started testing Tina at every opportunity. S
he’d tried speaking to Chris, of course, but he never really saw the digs, the pushing at the pecking order of the household, so he mostly just ignored it and carried on as normal.

  Bone idle, Charlie was, he had never done a tap in the house, always ‘busy’ whenever she asked him to do anything. After everything she’d done, he could have pulled his finger out now and then instead of sprawling on the sofa the whole time, playing deaf. But now, she’d realised that lazy was easier to cope with than bolshy.

  Charlie’s sister was even more of a piece of work. Nevaya was a right handful, she never wanted to spend time with Tina anymore. No more girly pamper nights, no duvet days at weekends watching chick flicks together – it had all gone. If she wasn’t at school or out with her mates, she was dossing in her bedroom, on the phone to them. She only appeared when she wanted something. And the mouth on her. Tina felt like she’d lost a friend – just another blow for her to take. Maybe if she could have had her own it would have been different, but she’d never know now, would she? The thought that she would never hold her own child in her arms killed her.

  Chris didn’t really get it. Why would he? He had two kids, didn’t know how it felt to be what her mam’s generation had always called ‘barren’. The horrible word kept coming back to her now, haunting her as she tried to come to terms with the fact she would never feel a life growing inside her, a baby kick. He was a man; he didn’t understand how deep-rooted her need for a baby was. She’d always imagined her life with children, she loved children. Even when she saw a baby on the television her heart melted, she wanted to smell them, feel their little fingers and hold them close to her heart. After the hysterectomy her world fell apart – it had destroyed her. She cried non-stop for days, sometimes she couldn’t even get out of bed. Chris was her rock at first, but, as time went by, his wife’s pain seemed to wash over him. Of course he cared, he even offered to buy her a puppy to try and take the pain away, but she refused. How could the aching in her heart be taken away by a daft bleeding animal? He just didn’t get it.