The door swung open and Sue stood there. She folded her arms and looked the three of them up and down. ‘I need a cleaner. Someone chucked up in the bogs last night.’
‘You’re looking at chefs, mon amour,’ Dex told her, without looking up from his peeling.
She snorted, took a step in and tapped Mikey on the shoulder. ‘You’ll do.’
Mikey shook his head at her. ‘I’m about to make a flan.’
‘It’s a pub, not a Gordon bloody Ramsay restaurant. You’re here to pot‑wash, and you’re here to clean the toilets if that’s what I want you to do. Come on, we open in twenty minutes.’
He took the plastic apron she offered and tied it over his jeans. He followed her through the bar to the cleaning cupboard. She handed him a mop, a bucket, a bottle of bleach, then led him to the toilets. ‘And make sure you wash your hands after.’
As he threw buckets of hot water and bleach into the bogs, Mikey felt a heaviness settle over him. It was all right if he was in the kitchen, or out with Jacko. Even with a girl it went away a bit. But these last two weeks, whenever he was at home or just by himself, it crashed back. As he washed down the walls with a mop, he thought about where he’d be in a year, two, five. He counted out ages. In five years Karyn would be twenty. Holly would be thirteen. His mum would be forty‑two. He’d be twenty‑three. He shrugged the numbers away in irritation. It was the kind of calculation kids did. Go too far with numbers like that and you ended up dead.
He tried not to breathe in the stink as he swilled the mop under the tap. He tried to remember that one day he’d be worth more than this. He’d live in London, maybe get a place in Tottenham, where his mum grew up. He’d have a chef’s job and earn tons of cash. He’d get season tickets for Spurs and invite Holly to all the home games. He tried to believe it as he put everything back in the cleaning cupboard and washed his hands with soap from the dispenser.
He needed a fag. Surely Sue wouldn’t moan at him for that? The bogs were sparkling. Outside, it was raining hard, a sudden rush dumping from the sky. He liked it. It matched his mood.
He stared at the cars parked by the harbour wall, their windows steamed up, the people inside waiting for the pub to get its act together and serve them lunch.
The door swung open and Jacko came and lit up a fag next to him. Together they watched a girl walk past, hands in her pockets, shoulders shrugged against the rain. Jacko sucked his teeth. ‘I love the way every single one of them is different.’
He was always coming out with mad stuff. It was comforting. With your oldest friend you should be free to say what was on your mind.
‘Bail today,’ Mikey said.
Jacko nodded. ‘I saw your mum in the pub last night. She reckoned he’ll definitely get it this time.’
‘The cops made some deal with his lawyer, that’s why. Soon he’ll be running about like he did nothing wrong.’
‘What’re you going to do?’
‘Dunno. Got to do something though. Karyn says she’s never leaving the flat again.’
Jacko looked at Mikey long and hard. ‘You serious?’
‘I told her he wouldn’t be allowed near her, but it made no difference.’
‘Bastard!’
Mikey nodded, knew Jacko would understand. ‘I went by his house again. I wanted to get him, but he wasn’t there.’
‘You went solo?’
‘I got mad. I had to do something.’ Mikey threw his fag end into a puddle, listened to it hiss. ‘Anyway, you were at work.’
‘I’d drop everything.’ Jacko slapped Mikey’s back with the flat of his hand. ‘You should know that.’
Mikey told him the whole story then – the spanner, the journey to the house, the party to celebrate getting bail. It was good standing there talking about it. It warmed Mikey up.
‘They’ve got caterers and everything. I met his mum and sister and they thought I was a mate of his, even invited me to the fucking thing.’
Jacko whistled. ‘Man, that’s mental!’
‘Imagine telling Karyn that. Imagine how that’ll make her feel.’
‘Don’t tell her, it’s too harsh.’ Jacko chucked his rollie stub into the puddle at their feet. Two soggy cigarette butts floating together like a couple of boats.
A plan began to form in the silence. It was a crazy plan, and Mikey tried to push it away, but it kept building. He thought of home, told himself he should have a kick‑about in the courtyard with Holly to make up for not taking her to school, told himself he had to get some shopping in case Mum forgot. But the plan wouldn’t go away. His family would have to manage – he couldn’t look after them all the time. ‘You busy tonight?’
A slow smile dawned on Jacko’s face. ‘We’re going to crash the party?’
‘I promised Karyn I’d get him. Why not get him on the night he least expects it?’
‘You want me to call backup?’
He meant Woody, Sean, Mark – the lads they’d gone to school with, the ones they’d fought side‑by‑side with through years of playground scraps and teen battles over territory. They still met up for regular games of pool and a pint, but all of them had moved on. Woody was married now, even had a kid on the way. Sean and Mark were apprentice brickies. The night Karyn came back from the police station, they’d been solid when Jacko called them. None of them would forget the anger they shared that night, but it wasn’t fair to ask them again. Karyn was his sister, this was his fight.
‘We’ll get noticed if we go team‑handy.’
Jacko nodded. Mikey could see him running over the basics in his head – tactics and plans for intel kicking in. In school fights, Jacko had been strategy king. His hours on the Xbox proved useful in the real world.
Sue came out then and tapped at her watch.
‘There’ll be loads of people there,’ Jacko said as they followed her back through the bar. ‘But we’ll have darkness as cover.’ He held the door to the kitchen open. Dex had the radio tuned in to his usual country station, where the songs were always about divorce and heartache and preachers. He waved the peeling knife at them.
‘My boys!’ he said.
Jacko leaned in to Mikey. ‘You want me to drive?’
‘You’re up for it?’
‘Course! I’m here for you, man. I’ll do whatever you need.’
Mikey smiled. It was the first time anything had gone right for days.
Four
Ellie Parker sat on the patio steps and waved her arms like antennae at the sun. It was strange, because as she did this, the whole garden fell suddenly silent. She held her breath because she didn’t want to spoil it, it was so beautiful. For a moment, it was as if she was controlling the universe. Then the catering woman clunked past carrying a stack of boxes, and her mother came up with her clipboard and said, ‘Thank goodness that rain’s stopped.’
Ellie tugged a leaf from the bay tree and broke it in half, smelled it, then ripped it to shreds. She scattered the sharp pieces over the steps. She ripped another and another, their green turning bruised and ruined in her hands.
Her mother sat next to her and leaned in close. ‘Stop worrying, love. Your brother’s safely in the car on his way home.’
‘What if the police change their minds?’
‘It’s been through Crown Court. There’s no going back.’
‘What if they suddenly get new information?’
Mum shook her head, smiling confidently. ‘Dad’s got everything under control and we’re going to get through this, you wait and see.’
Ellie wanted to believe her, but sometimes when she closed her eyes she saw things that felt impossible to get through. She saw Tom taken in for questioning, pale and scared as they led him away. She saw the van parked in the driveway with SCIENTIFIC SERVICES written on the side, and the scene‑of‑crime officers in their black clothes walking out of the house with Tom’s laptop, his bed sheets and duvet in plastic bags. Then there were the lads in the car who watched everything from the lane, so you just knew it would be all over town by morning. She saw the officer put a padlock and tape on Tom’s door and heard him say, ‘Don’t tamper with it, please, this room is a crime scene now.’ And Dad said, ‘Surely we have rights in our own home?’ Mum sat on the stairs and wept. Tears washed into her mouth.