Читать книгу Born Evil - Kimberley Chambers - Страница 11

MICKEY CHECKED THE address on the piece of scrap paper, in case his eyes were deceiving him, and felt his bad mood worsen.

‘Look at the state of this fucking dump. What a shit-hole! Christ knows what my little sis has got herself roped up with here.’

Steve looked at the rundown tower block. ‘It looks like Nelson Mandela House on Only Fools and Horses, don’t it?’

Debbie was hanging her washing out on a line over the bath when she heard the tap on the front door. Thinking it was one of the neighbours, she opened it without first checking the spy hole and nearly keeled over at the sight of her brother standing there, with a big skinhead by his side.

‘Mickey, what a wonderful surprise,’ she managed to stutter.

‘This is me mate Steve. Ain’t you gonna invite us in then, sis?’

‘Nice to meet you, Steve. Of course you can come in. I’m sorry, Mick, it was such a shock seeing you, I forgot me manners. Go and sit down and I’ll put the kettle on.’

Debbie was all of a fluster as she poured boiling water over the coffee granules. She was pleased to see her brother. It had been ages and she’d missed him like mad. She just wished she’d known he was coming so she could have spruced herself and the flat up a bit more.

As he sipped his coffee, Mickey nudged his mate and told him to pop downstairs and check on the car. He needed to have a one-to-one with his little sis, a proper chat, family only kind of stuff. As soon as the front door clicked shut, Mickey jumped out of the threadbare armchair that had seen better days, walked over to the window and stared out at the far from appealing view.

He had to tread carefully here; he knew how fiery Debs could be and didn’t want to rub her up the wrong way. He’d never be able to keep an eye on her if they had words and she fucked him off. But, guessing what was coming, Debbie decided to make it easier for him.

‘Come on then, Mick, cut the crap. What are you really doing here? Has Mum sent you round to check up on me or what?’

Mickey turned to face her. ‘Mum never sent me, although she is worried about you. So am I, Debs. What are you doing living in a shit-hole like this? You can’t bring a kid up round here. And who’s this geezer you’re with? Does he work? Is he looking after you okay?’

Picking up her brother’s box of cigarettes, Debbie lit one and took a deep drag. She’d given up the stinking habit as soon as she found out she was pregnant, but the way she felt at this moment, she could literally smoke the whole box. She flicked her ash into the chipped ashtray then turned to face her brother, determined to stand her own ground.

‘Look, Mick, I’m a big girl now. You don’t have to worry about me, honestly, I’m fine. Billy’s as good as gold. We have our ups and downs, like anyone else does, but overall he treats me really well. He usually works on building sites, but to be honest even when he’s not at work, he’s never short of money. Anything I ask him for, or need, he gives to me. As for this flat, I’m not stupid, I know it’s not the Ritz, but it’s only temporary. Once the baby’s born, I’ll be eligible for a council house, hopefully in a much better area.’

Mickey looked at his sister and just for a moment blamed himself for her predicament. He’d always looked after her when they were kids, always been there for her, and if he hadn’t been locked away in the slammer, she certainly wouldn’t be in the position she was in now. Over his dead body would he have let any of this shit happen to her.

‘Look, Debs, I don’t wanna burst your bubble or fall out with you, babe, but I need to meet this geezer, just to put me own mind at rest. If he’s always got money, even when he’s not working, he’s got to be a bit dodgy, ain’t he?’

Debbie could feel her temper bubbling to the surface and was determined to stick up for the father of her unborn child.

‘Look, Mick, don’t give it Snow White with me. You never go to work and you’ve always got money. Maybe he does the same shit as you do. I don’t know what he does, but you of all people have no right to get on your fucking high horse! At least my Billy hasn’t spent the last couple of years slopping out shit buckets in Wormwood Scrubs, like you bloody well have.

‘You make me fucking die, you do. You’ve always put yourself first, Mick. And as for my caring mother – she’s shoved so far up Peter’s arse, I’m surprised she can even breathe. Now, all of a sudden, everyone’s worried about poor little Debs? Well, bollocks to the pair of ya! I needed you both years ago, not now.

‘I’ll tell you something else an’ all, shall I? When you left home, my life was absolute shit. You didn’t give a toss that I was stuck there with Mum and that arsehole Peter on my own, did ya? I mean it, Mick, my life has got sod all to do with you or Mum now, so you can both keep your fucking trunks out.’

Holding up his hands in defeat, Mickey walked towards her, intending to give her a hug.

Debbie was having none of it. ‘Don’t try and be nice to me, Mick, you’ve upset me now. I’ve tried to make a life for meself and all you can do is come round and pick fucking holes.’

‘Come on, Debs, I’m your big bruv and I love ya. Sorry if I’ve been a bit brutal with ya, but I’m bound to be worried. I wouldn’t be much of a brother if I wasn’t.’

These words moved Debbie in a way nothing else he had said had. The fight went out of her and she suddenly felt tearful.

‘Now come on, don’t cry,’ Mickey said as he held her in his arms.

‘Oh, ignore me,’ Debbie said, half laughing, half crying. ‘It’s just me hormones playing up.’

Letting her go, Mickey reached inside his jacket and took out a pen. ‘Get us a bit of paper, sis, and I’ll give you my mobile number. Are you on the phone here?’

Debbie shook her head. ‘We’ve no phone, but Billy has promised he’ll get one put in nearer the birth.’

Taking a wad of notes out of his pocket, Mickey rolled off a bundle. ‘No arguments, Debs, take this and make sure you get a phone put on. Do it as soon as possible, and treat yourself to something nice with the rest of the money.’

‘Thanks, Mick. I’ll pop next door to Sharon’s. She’s with BT, I’ll get her to ring them for me.’

Mickey rubbed her arm. ‘Good girl, and don’t worry about the bill. If you get stuck, or you’re a bit short, I’ll always pay it. Now put my number away safely. You can ring me anytime on that, day or night.’

‘I’ll put it in me purse. But I’ll make a note of it somewhere else, just in case I lose it.’

‘Right, I’d best be going now, Debs. Me and Steve are gonna have a couple of beers round here, before we shoot home. What pub does your Billy drink in? I’ll buy him a pint if I meet him. I’d like to get to know him.’

Debbie felt her heart sink. This was all she bloody well needed.

‘He probably won’t be in the pub today, Mick. He had to be somewhere earlier.’

‘I’ll have a look anyway, Debs. Where’s he likely to be, if he’s about? I mean, if we’re gonna be family, I need to introduce meself and that, don’t I?’

Debbie knew there was no point in lying. He was a clever bastard, her brother, and he’d find out anyway. If she lied, it would just look like she was hiding something.

‘If he’s about, he’ll be in the Westbury, the Brewery Tap or the Hope and Anchor. Promise you’ll be nice to him if you do bump into him, Mick?’

‘Of course I will. I just wanna buy him a pint and that. You worry too much, Debs.’

As Debbie kissed him goodbye, she felt as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Ever since the night Billy had laid into her then apologised, things had been going pretty smoothly. Billy had been attentive and caring once more and she didn’t need her brother or anyone else upsetting the apple cart.

Feeling shattered, she lay on her bed, imagining her partner and her brother getting on well together. She knew she was kidding herself, though. Deep inside she had a terrible feeling that they’d hate one another on sight.

* * *

Billy McDaid nodded to one of his regular punters to follow him out to the toilets. The guv’nor, Fred, was in today, and even though Billy knew he was aware of what went on here, he didn’t want to take the piss by serving up right under his nose.

‘Want a drink, Fred?’ he asked innocently as he returned from the Gents.

‘Yeah, go on, I’ll have a large Scotch,’ the landlord replied, busying himself behind the bar. He couldn’t stand McDaid. In fact, he couldn’t stand any of his customers. Scumbags and wasters, the whole bloody lot of ’em. He’d lived through a world war. These arseholes round here wouldn’t be able to survive a fucking thunderstorm!

Billy chatted away happily to a couple of cronies up at the bar. He’d been much more relaxed in himself over the last couple of months and finally felt that his life was on the up. Serving up in pubs suited Billy down to the ground and was much more appealing to him than freezing his plums off on a building site. He’d first fallen into his new career by accident. He’d been dealing to his mates, word had got around, and it had escalated from there. He didn’t sell anything heavy, just a bit of speed and puff, and he worked it from his three locals. He visited each boozer at a set time, on a daily basis, so his punters always knew where to find him.

Billy never took his work home with him. All of his stash was hidden downstairs at his mate Andy’s, along with his scales, wraps, clingfilm, and any other evidence that could incriminate him. If it all came on top, the last thing he wanted was to get Debs involved. They’d been getting on so well lately, he would hate anything to jeopardise that.

Noticing that the pub had suddenly fallen silent, Billy swung round on his barstool to find out why. He smelled trouble as soon as he clocked the two heavy geezers walk up to the bar and order a drink. Outsiders weren’t welcome in the Hope and Anchor; it was a locals’ boozer where everyone knew everyone. They certainly didn’t look like old bill, but they didn’t look like mugs either. If anything, the pair of them looked pretty handy.

Mickey and Steve sipped their pints and chatted quietly to each other. They knew which one of the punters was supposed to be McDaid because they’d paid a little kid outside a score to look through the window and point him out. Not wanting to make a tit of himself, Mickey decided to watch and wait. He needed to check if his intended target had a Scottish accent, hear him called by name before he made himself known. For all he knew the kid outside might have been pulling a fast one and he was damned if he was gonna mug himself off.

Sensing trouble brewing, Fred decided to call it a day and leave the honours to his barmaid Julie. He hated the pub; they could smash it to smithereens, for all he cared. ‘See ya, Bill. Bye, lads,’ he shouted as he made a rapid exit.

Hearing the name Bill, Mickey knew that he’d struck gold. Over the next hour or so he watched three or four punters come into the pub, follow Billy into the toilets and immediately leave the premises without even buying a drink.

‘Classy,’ Mickey said sarcastically to Steve. ‘He must use the khazi as his office.’

Steve laughed. ‘What we gonna do then, Mick? We can’t just stand here all day.’

Telling his friend to stay put, Mickey walked over to where McDaid was sitting.

‘You got a minute, Bill?’ he asked casually.

Billy was shitting himself. He was sure he didn’t know this cunt from Adam, but with all his mates’ eyes firmly on him, was determined not to show his fear.

‘How do you know my name? Who the fuck are you?’

As Mickey moved closer, he looked the skinny gutted arsehole straight in the eye. ‘Don’t you notice the family resemblance?’ Holding out his hand, he smiled as he clocked the alarm on Billy’s face.

‘Mickey Dawson, Debbie’s brother. Now, shall I ask you again, have you got a minute?’

‘Aye, nice to meet yer, Mickey. I’ve heard lots about yer. What are yer having?’

‘I don’t want a drink, Billy, I just want a quick word with ya. Let’s go outside, eh?’

Unlocking the Merc, Mickey told Billy to get in the passenger seat.

‘I dinnae want to go for no drive, ye ken. My pals are all inside the boozer and I cannae leave them.’

Mickey smiled at him. ‘You worry too much, Billy. We’re not going anywhere.’

Once in the car, Mickey turned to face him. ‘Right, I’ve been to see me sister who informs me that you treat her okay and that she’s happy and so on. Me personally, I don’t like the sound or the look of you, but you’re my sister’s choice and not mine. Obviously, being her older brother, I will always be about to protect Debs and keep a watchful eye on her. At the moment, even though you’re obviously selling drugs from a khazi, I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. But – and I mean but – if you ever get her arrested, lay a finger on her, or treat her badly in any way, then you’ll have me to fucking deal with. Do you understand what I’m saying to ya, Bill?’

Lost for words, Billy nodded dumbly. Feeling nervous, he searched for the right words. ‘Look, I love your sister, man, I really do. I’d never treat her bad, I swear I wouldnae.’

‘Well, that’s okay, then. As long as we understand one another, we won’t have a problem. Now let’s go back in the pub and I’ll buy you a pint.’

Mickey nodded to Steve to join him and Billy as they re-entered the pub. He then spent the next half an hour chatting to his sister’s choice of man and trying to be as polite as possible. It was difficult; the geezer was an out-and-out prick. Finishing the last of his drink, Mickey forced himself to shake Billy’s hand.

‘Well, I’m glad I’ve met ya. I’m going now, but as I said I’ll be popping round again to check on me sis. I left her some money today to get a phone put on, so make sure she does, eh, Bill?’

‘Definitely. I’ll sort it, nae problem.’

Mickey smiled. ‘Good stuff. Oh, and by the way, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell Debs the ins and outs of our little conversation. Just say that we had a beer together, got on fine, and leave it at that, okay?’

‘No probs,’ Billy said as he waved them goodbye. As soon as Mickey and Steve walked out the door, though, Billy’s temper began to boil. The more cider he drank, the angrier he got. He was extremely annoyed with himself for being so gutless and not giving Mickey what for. Billy was a face round here in Barking, everyone knew him, and that twat had had the cheek to come and belittle him, make him look a prick in his own local? Ordering a pint of snakebite, he vented his true feelings to his mate.

‘Andy, you listen to me – Billy McDaid. You see that prick … that mug? I didnae lose it with him ’cause of Debs. But I’m telling yer now, if that cockney cunt ever comes back in here and pulls me out of this pub again, I’m gonnae do him, believe me, man. I’ll kill him. And if I find out Debs has been slagging me off behind my back, I’ll kill her as well. May God be my judge, I swear I’ll kill the fucking pair of ’em.’