Part 21 (1/2)

Gladys swung her stout legs off the bed and pattered over to the window, peering into the dark. She spotted the tiny red dot visible through the shed window and gawped at her husband. She'd thought he was imagining things but she'd definitely seen a light too. She gripped his elbow, shaking it punitively. 'Why didn't you lock the b.l.o.o.d.y thing?'

'I'm sure I did. I always check it now in case the new mower gets nicked. Someone must've broken in.'

'Better call the police,' Gladys urged. The s.h.i.+ny Qualcast was Tony's pride and joy, and she'd never hear the end of it if it went missing.

'Ain't calling no rozzers.' Tony, in common with most of his ilk, didn't have any truck with the law. He'd sort things out in his own way. He started pulling on his trousers.

'You're not going down there after him?' Gladys squeaked. 'He might be half yer age and crown you.'

'Well, he ain't having me mower, that's fer sure.'

'Might be a tramp just sheltering for the night, Tony,' she wheedled. 'Just leave him be, eh?' Gladys had visions of calling an ambulance as well as the police if her husband insisted on tackling the intruder.

'Ain't leaving him be,' Tony announced, shrugging into his s.h.i.+rt. 'When he's had his forty-winks he might just wheel me mower off down the road with him.' He put a finger to his lips, shus.h.i.+ng Gladys because her voice had started getting shrill. 'You'll wake Blanche up, then there's no chance of taking him by surprise. If she finds out we've got a burglar, she'll have bleedin' hysterics.'

'Ain't heard her come in yet.' Gladys was too worried about her husband's planned heroics to give her daughter's whereabouts much thought. She gripped Tony's forearm with two hands and hung on.

'Give it a rest!' Tony finally shook his wife off and pelted down the stairs.

Once out in the garden, he stealthily approached the shed with a wrench in one hand and a heavy torch in the other. He got into position and took a deep breath.

'Right, out yer come! Police are on their way so I'm giving you a chance to get going 'fore they get here.' He took two quick steps forward, then leaped one pace back as he heard scuffling inside the wooden panels.

'Dad?'

Tony's jaw sagged at the sound of his daughter's quavering voice. On instinct, he reached for the door and yanked it wide. The sight that met him caused a grunt of horror to erupt. Blanche had her naked backside in the air while bending over, scrabbling on the floor for her clothes. Charlie Potter was trying to stuff his erection in his trousers and b.u.t.ton up over it.

'What the ...?' Tony could feel his cheeks ballooning in rage and revulsion. 'Get indoors, you filthy little s.l.u.t!' he roared at his daughter.

Blanche grabbed her clothes to her chest and, whimpering, rushed past her father into the cool night air.

Tony shook his torch at the man sizing him up with a vicious stare while shoving his arms into s.h.i.+rtsleeves. 'You ... get out of me garden and get going,' Tony uttered hoa.r.s.ely. He stumbled backwards as Potter strutted towards him, boots swinging in a fist.

'Get in the house, you f.u.c.king little wh.o.r.e,' Tony ejected through his teeth as his daughter stood in the garden, transfixed, watching them.

Gladys entered the kitchen to be met by a woman's bare back view silhouetted against the open doorway. She flicked the light switch. 'Blanche?' she whispered, clapping a hand to her mouth when her naked daughter swung around, tears streaming down her face.

Tony burst in from the garden, nearly knocking Blanche over. Nervously, he locked the door as though fearing Charlie might try to barge in and create havoc.

Blanche backed against the wall, still guarding her trembling body with her bundle of clothes.

'What's been going on?' Gladys demanded in a faint screech.

Tony seemed momentarily lost for words. 'Tell yer mother what you've been up to with Charlie Potter out in me shed.' He dropped the torch he'd been pointing at his daughter. The wrench followed it onto the floor with a crash. 'I'm going to bed. We'll sort this out in the morning.' He flung himself past the two women and was soon stomping up the stairs.

When he'd set out for work at first light, Charlie had had no intention of going home again that day. Following a late night romp with Blanche, when feeling nice and relaxed, he'd usually be ready for a couple of whiskies and a game of cards before settling down for a few hours' kip on a pal's sofa. Then he'd be up and off to work down the docks just after dawn. Sometimes several days might pa.s.s before he again saw his family. Charlie was proud of the fact he could get by on little sleep and still be, in his opinion, an all-round performer at work and play.

But tonight hadn't gone to plan after all. He had an irritating throb in his groin and needed a woman to scratch it for him. It was too late to knock up Wes Silver for a sub on his wages so he could pay for a tart like Beverly, who worked out of the dockside pubs. He'd spent most of his cash on Blanche and she'd been a dead loss so he'd have to go home after all to his wife's bed.

Charlie wasn't bothered about Ruby smelling another woman on him. She knew better than to question him about what he'd been up to. But it was the middle of the week, and the landlord was soon due to do his rounds. For a change his wife hadn't whined about the rent arrears that morning when he'd climbed out of bed but had turned her back on him. Charlie knew they were over a month behind and he was in no mood for a bull and cow with Ruby tonight because she was after money he'd spent. Following the run-in with Tony Scott, Charlie felt ready to swing for somebody and if she started acting up it would be her.

His wife had lashed out last time he hit her and Charlie knew if she did so again he'd really pay her, and smash the place up before he left. He'd remain master in his own home, or there wouldn't be a home. Simple as that.

Charlie slouched round the corner and, with his house in sight, felt annoyed rather than relieved at the prospect of soon entering it. He d.a.m.ned Blanche's father to h.e.l.l for being a nosy interfering b.a.s.t.a.r.d and spoiling his fun. He regretted now not having given Tony a smack but the man had caught him on the hop, then scarpered indoors.

Charlie stuck his key in the lock and booted the door open, feeling too lazy to remove his other hand from his pocket. It was completely dark inside, which was odd because the silly cow usually left a candle stub burning by the baby's pram so she could see to him in the night when he woke up bawling.

It seemed eerily quiet to Charlie and there was a different atmosphere, or rather a lack of one. Usually, some smell of cooking hung in the air, even if it was just burned toast greeting him. He stopped and listened, then felt for the light switch.

Charlie blinked, his expression gormless with amazement. Then his lips drew back against his teeth in a savage snarl. 'You f.u.c.king c.u.n.t,' he bawled, noticing there was nothing left in the room but the landlord's manky old furniture. 'So that's why you didn't want no rent off me, is it, gel?' He picked up the poker propped against the grate and hurled it against the wall, starting up some hollering and hammering from next door. Charlie flung himself down in the mouldy armchair, sitting legs akimbo and head jutting. 'Told you, Ruby, you go when I say, and not a second before,' he whispered into the silence.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT.

'Fer Chrissake, leave him alone! He's only a kid.'

Davy Wright shrugged off his friend's restraining hand. His eyes had pounced on his prey and were narrowing in excitement. Just a stare had been enough to frighten the boy. But it wasn't enough for Davy. He watched the lad hesitating before swinging around to flee. Immediately, Davy loped after him. Davy was at least five years older and far bigger physically than Mr Butler's son. He slowed down, not wanting to outrun his quarry too soon, spoiling the chase. In under a minute, he was alongside, taunting the child with abuse before swiping out with a foot.

Having crashed into the gutter the boy immediately pushed onto his hands and knees, cowering in expectation of a kick. But Davy stepped back, standing over him while he staggered to his feet. Rather than attempt to barge past his tormentor and make for home, the lad darted in the opposite direction just as a van turned the corner, cras.h.i.+ng gears.

Tom had turned away in disgust, not wanting to observe Davy's bullying, but a screeching of brakes made him swivel about in time to see the boy bouncing off the chrome b.u.mper of the vehicle. The white-faced driver jumped out and began shouting his version of events to a little crowd gathering about the unconscious boy.

Tom raced towards Davy, grabbing him by the arm. 'That was your fault, you bleedin' idiot!' he hissed, careful to keep his voice low. 'I told you to leave the kid alone.' Tom blinked at the people crouching over the motionless boy. One man quickly stood up, then ran towards a shop, shouting over a shoulder that he'd call for an ambulance.

'What if you've killed him?' Tom looked shocked. 'D'you reckon he's dead?' He took a tentative step towards the kerb, angling his head to get a view past the group and see if the casualty was moving.

'He ain't dead, the van weren't going fast enough for that,' Davy bl.u.s.tered. 'Anyhow, it's his own fault fer not lookin' where he was going. Stupid git.' Davy shrugged. 'Ain't nuthin' to do with me. I was just standing here, minding me own business.'

'You were right by him, I saw you ...' The van driver was pointing at Davy as he broke free of the knot of people to find witnesses to his innocence. 'Why did he hare out in front of me like that?'

'Search me, mate.' Davy sorrowfully shook his head, playing the part of concerned bystander. 'Just seen the kid scoot into the road, that's all I can say. Gonna be all right is he? Silly sod ...'

'Hope so ... reckon he's gonna have concussion and his leg looks broken. You see anything, son?' The driver had turned to Tom.

Tom shook his head, swallowing audibly. 'Was up the road ... never saw nuthin'.'

'His parents need to learn the kid some road sense, letting him run out in front of folk like that.' The agitated driver turned away to find more helpful witnesses.

'I ain't coming over here and doing this no more.' Tom muttered as soon as the fellow was out of earshot.

'You givin' up yer wages then?' Davy jeered.

'Yeah, I am. Tell your uncle he don't need to pay me next week. You can come over on yer own.'

'Charlie ain't me uncle, he's me stepbrother.'

Tom shrugged his lack of interest.