Deadfolk (23 page)

There were a feller once who found a pack of fags in his bedroom. Same bedroom he shared with his dear wedded wife, it were. Only they wasn’t his fags. He smoked Bennys and these was Regals. Weren’t his wife’s neither, her smoking Consulate. So he scratched his head and wondered how come a pack of strange fags had come to be there, peeking out from under the bed.

And no matter how hard he scratched, no answer came. Sore head were all he got. So he went to his wife aiming to ask her. Only when he got to her—when he stood in front of her and looked her in the eyes—his mouth dried up and his tongue went all limp. He didn’t need to ask her, did he. There were the answer for him, right there in her blue eyes, behind all that smudge she’d taken to applying of late. And you know what he done?

You knows what he ought to have done, like as not. He ought to have got it all sorted there and then. Are you my wife or are you a slapper? Do you know who I am? I’m Royston Fucking Blake and no wife of mine puts out behind me back. And what about this pack of Regals, eh? Who’s this gentleman you’ve been entertaining? Tell us now. He’ll be smoking em out his arse when I’m finished with the fucker, I can tell you.

But that’s not what he done. What he done is walk away like a sick old dog.

The twat.

And he tried to forget all about it. He tried to think of all the innocent little accidents might have led to a pack of Regals being there in the bedroom. There was tons of em when you came to think on it. And when you came to think on it you saw how twattish you was behaving. That’s your fucking wife, mate. Not a tuppenny whore from down the arcade. Course she ain’t putting out to all and sundry.

So this feller started being nice to his wife instead. He weren’t sure why, but summat told him that he’d better, just in case. He brung her flowers and perfume. He done a bit of cooking once until it were plain as day that cooking weren’t summat he were born to do. And he started paying her a bit more attention in the pit. Just like the old days, when they was newly-weds and at it like a couple of rabbits in spring.

Only it weren’t the same now. The more he pressed himself on her, the more she turned away. And the perfume sat on the shelf and the flowers died.

Meanwhile he ate and drank and slept and crapped and pissed and went to work and stewed on it. And one evening it all got a bit too much. Folks was taking advantage. Kids was getting past him. Fights was kicking off and playing out without him noticing. And when his boss—a big feller with a scarred meaty face and shaved head—told him to piss off home cos he were no use to man nor beast standing at the door with his eyes on his boots, that’s what he done. And as he rode his Capri homeward he pushed her harder and harder. Summat were driving him on, summat red-hot and knotted in his guts. And as he got closer it coiled tighter and tighter.

He let himself in nice and quiet, nice and slow, though his head felt like it had a hurricane in it. He wanted to turn and run. He wanted to peg it into town and neck twenty pints of lager. Maybe he could have a crack at that new stripper they had in on Thursdays. But it were too late.

It were too late for him to keep his head down and get on with it. He’d stood in the hall long enough to smell it. There were a feller in the house. A feller smoking Regals. And then he heard it and all. Breathing. Grunting. Bumping. Fucking.

Upstairs.

Just as quiet as he’d come in, he let himself out.

Legs lit a Regal and looked at us. It were a funny look he had on his face. Not smiling, not frowning, and not much else besides. Aye, it were a look that I hadn’t seen much of before. Not only on Legs, but on anyone in the Mangel area. He held out his arm and offered us a fag.

‘No, ta,’ I says. ‘I don’t smoke Regals. Didn’t I just tell you? You don’t catch on quick, do you, Legsy, eh?’ I laughed. I stopped.

We caught each other’s eyes.

It were a funny old feeling. Sort of like a rusty old gate closing shut after banging in the wind for years. And soon as it’s shut, it’s like it were never open.

‘You always knew though, eh?’ says Legs. ‘An’ you always knew I knew, about you killin’ her.’ He drew deep on his fag and let it out through his nose and never took his eyes off us.

I wondered about saying aye, course I always knew you was shagging Beth. But it didn’t seem right to come out and say such a thing. Felt like it’d make it true if I said it, even though I knew it were true. I’d sat on it for years and got on with things. And here were Legsy coming along and spoiling it all. What right had he to spoil it for us? Him, the cunt who’d started it all.

But this were all confined to my head and I didn’t say none of it out loud. What I said were: ‘Finney tell you, did he?’

‘Finney?’ Legsy pushed himself off the fridge and looked at his watch. He sauntered back into the living room like this were a typical night.

I followed him.

‘Finney?’ He were on his couch now. Sitting up for a change and not spread out on his back like normal. One leg were stretched out across it but the other were grounded and jumping up and down. ‘Finney’s your mate, Blake. He wouldn’t dob on you. Take yer secrets to the grave, he would. Thass juss what he will do, in fact.’

My eyes was on the telly. Greyhounds was tearing round the track and a voice were shouting the odds. ‘How’d you know then?’

His eyes was on me. ‘Really wanna know?’

I moved my head a bit.

‘I were with her, when you rung her up that night and called her out to Hoppers. I told her not to go. Let him fuckin’ walk home, I says. Iss a warm night and the exercise’ll do him good. But she says no. Never understood that about her meself, how she still done right by you even when you treated her bad and forced her into the arms of another feller. Looked after you, she did. An’ look what you done to her in return.’

The news came on next. The feller were carping on about summat or other, but like always I weren’t paying him no heed. Too many words and you get confused. I just looked at the pictures. It were a bit dark and grainy, and shot from overhead like the cameraman were in a big hot air balloon. But you could see what they was up to down there all right. They was taking that big bastard of a bomb out of the silo and loading him into an airplane. You’d never have thought he’d fit into her, big and nasty as he were, and small and flighty like she looked. Then the feller’s face filled the screen and I heard what he said this time. He were telling folks to go on about their business and not to panic like a bunch of jessies.

‘Woss that s’posed to mean?’ I says. ‘“Thass just what he will do”?’

‘Eh?’ he says, loud and a bit lairy.

‘Finney. Said he’d take em to the grave with him, you did. My secrets an’ that.’

‘Aye, well. He killed her, too, didn’t he. Your idea, but he lit the fire. I seen him. I waited up the road from yer house, see. Had a bad feelin’ and I wanted to see her back in one piece. Well, she didn’t come back, did she. I sees you pull up in yer fuckin’ rusty old nail but no Beth. So I goes down there. Still had a bad feelin’, see, and it were gettin’ worser as I got nearer. Then when I drives past the back of Hoppers I clocks Finney jumpin’ over the back fence. And by the time I gets round front the whole place is blazin’. An’ there’s Beth’s car parked round back.’ His leg were jumping up and down like a road drill. It were all I could see, though me eyes was on the telly. I reckoned he’d be putting his boot through the floor any moment. ‘So I told the Muntons all about it.’

Five planes was flying across the screen in formation, like a little flock of giant geese. ‘When?’

His hand went to his nose and then back to where it had been—clutching the arm rest. ‘T’other day.’

‘Why?’ I were gonna ask. But then I recalled my bodged headbutt and it all pieced together. ‘You grassed us cos I dropped one on you, by accident?’

‘Don’t be fuckin’ thick. I grassed you cos you was gettin’ cocky. I’d not done it till then cos you was contrite before, wanderin’ round like a lost soul. Looked like you was doin’ a life sentence in yer head. Plus the Muntons was leanin’ on you more and more anyhow, you carryin’ on as doorman of their old place and all. An’ long as things stayed like that I couldn’t bring meself to open me gob about it. Let him stew, I thinks. He’s done his crime an’ he’s payin’ for it. But that night in the Pry—when you nutted us like that…Well, seemed to me you was lettin’ yerself out on remand.’

I got up. I couldn’t stay sat no more. I stood up and shook the cramp out me legs.

Legsy stood up and all. ‘And look woss happened now. All the Muntons would of done is use you a bit. Bit of donkey work an’ that.’

I stuck my hands in me pockets. The monkey wrench slipped into the right one like water down a thirsty man’s gullet. I looked at Legsy while he rabbitted on. It’s different now, I were thinking. I’m a proper killer, not just a foul weather one. I’m wanted by the coppers and feared by all and sundry. And what are you? A fucking milkman. A fucking milkman who fucked my wife.

He looked at his watch. ‘But you wasn’t up for that, was you. You was cocky. You had to kill Baz. Why’d you go and do that eh? Another of yer accidents, like breaking my nose? And then you fucked up robbin’ Hoppers. Couldn’t even get that right, could you. And you, a feller who spent his youth climbin’ through folks’ windows. How’d I know all this? See these? Ears, mate. Folks talk.’

I wished I still had that pistol on us. No matter how hard I gripped it, the wrench just didn’t seem enough for Legsy. His head were too big, I reckoned. You’d have to bash it from all sides before he’d go cross-eyed on you. And besides, he were a mate. I couldn’t very well brain a mate with a monkey wrench.

He looked at his watch again.

‘Why the fuck do you keep ganderin’ that watch?’ I shouted.

He looked a bit rattled at that, which were summat at least. He’d been having it all his own way so far while I’d sat quiet asking a polite question here and there. But, like I always used to say about Legsy, he don’t stay rattled long. He sparked up another Regal and sucked it deep, looking at the window like he were working up to an answer. But there were a wallop at the door before one came. He shrugged at us as if to say folks at the door—what can a feller do, eh? Then he walked out leaving us clutching the monkey wrench and scratching my head and boiling up inside.

I had a quick think while he were in the hall getting rid of whoever it were. If I got up now and stood behind the living room door, I could brain him coming back in. I started to get up, thinking about the weight of the steel pulling on my arm as I swung it through the farty air. Then I sat down again. What were I thinking of? Legs were a…

He were a mate, weren’t he?

All right, we was having a bit of a to-do about this and that. We had a few problems to straighten out for surely. But nothing that time and a few piss-ups couldn’t see right.

Right?

So I sat tight and awaited his return. I were feeling all right about it all, considering. I were feeling lighter in meself, and confident that we’d be getting all of me problems sorted this very night, one way or another. But then Legsy came back, followed by Lee and Jess Munton.

Lee comes in first wearing the same long leather coat he always wore. It were a bit tatty now. There were a dull area down the left arm where he must have fallen hard and slid along the concrete for a while. Also he hadn’t shaved of late so his goatee were now lost in the undergrowth. Like my tash.

Jess pulled up the rear, looking a bit odd. What he were wearing didn’t add up, see. It were one of them dirty white smocks they makes folks wear in hospital. On his feet were tartan slippers, same ones everyone’s Uncle Bob wears. A bit higher up you could see loose bandages dangling down from between his legs. They was yellowish and a bit bloody. His face were white as cows’ milk and made the smock look even pissier. Piss is what he stank of, come to think on it. You could even smell it over the top of Lee’s aftershave when the two stood side by side.

‘Fungcun…’ says Jess. Gave him summat strong for his pain at the ozzy, like as not. ‘Fungkillyuh.’

Legs stood behind the two of em, grinning at us in a way that I didn’t much care for. Not sure what to do meself, I grinned back. I grinned at all three of em. I grinned like me life were dependent on it, and right there and then I reckon it were. If only I could make em believe in that grin I might be all right. Everything’d be tidy. Folks wouldn’t really be dead. Finney wouldn’t be fucked up. And Jess Munton wouldn’t be wobbling on his pins and staring chainsaws at us.

Lee grinned back. But not in a nice way. I’d have preferred a frown, all in all. Then he got a sawn-off out and pointed it at me knackers. ‘An eye for an eye,’ he says, putting his free arm around Jess to hold him up. ‘A knacker for a knacker. Right, Jess?’ The both of em glared at us a moment or two, then lowered their eyes to trouser level. The rough-nosed barrel wavered a bit as Lee curled his finger round the trigger.

‘Hold up, hold up,’ says Legs, bringing a couple of tears to me eyes. I knew he’d pull through, see. I knew he wouldn’t stand by and let the Muntons shoot me knackers off, followed like as not by my head. ‘You can’t do that,’ he says.

Lee relaxed his finger but didn’t take his eye off us. ‘Why not? He’s gettin’ what he’s got comin’. Nuthin’ I can do is bad enough for him. Look what he done. Look what he done to my family.’

‘Aye, I knows all that.’ Legs came round and put himself in front of the shotgun, bless him. I’d be all right. I just knew it. Legs had the kind of voice you listened to and acted upon. Even if you was the Muntons. ‘But you can’t do it here. Not in my flat. The offy downstairs is still open and folks’ll hear. Take him out somewhere quiet. Got yer van out there, ain’t you? Take him out to Hurk Wood and have some fun with him. Don’t want blood all over me walls an’ carpet, does I.’

Lee tightened his grip on the gun. ‘You reckon, Jess?’

‘Aye. Fungurk Wood.’

‘Heh heh.’ Lee squeezed his brother’s shoulder and patted his back, making him wobble on his pins a bit. ‘Eh, Blake? Fancy a little drive out to the country?’

There weren’t much to say. So that’s what I said.

‘Go on then.’ Lee jerked his head at the door. ‘Shift.’

I tried to lift me foot but it were stuck to the floor. Yours would have been and all. And don’t fucking go saying it wouldn’t. It fucking would.

‘Shift.’

I looked at Legs. He were standing behind Lee again now, arms folded and lips pursed. He looked down when my eyes met his. Then he looked back at us and shrugged. ‘I’d shift if I were you,’ he says.

I closed me eyes. When I opened em again I were halfway down the fire escape. Jess were tottering in front of us, taking one stair at a time. Lee were behind us prodding us on with the gun. As we stepped off the last stair, I opened my gob and licked me lips and found I had summat to say at last.

‘The doofer.’

Lee poked us hard in the back. ‘Fuckin’ move.’

‘The doofer. You was after it, right?’

‘Go on. Move.’ He smacked us across the right ear with the gun, then stuck the barrel in it. ‘Tell yer story walkin’.’

My ear were ringing and felt like it were filled with ice cubes and hot coals, but I turned and faced him anyhow. What did I have to lose? Besides I knew he wouldn’t shoot us. Not with what I had to tell him. ‘Nah, nah, just listen. The thing in the box. From the safe, like, at Hoppers. You was after it, right?’

It were hard to see what were going on behind his fat face, but I reckon I spotted a bit of confusion in them piggy eyes. And that gave us hope. ‘Oh aye?’ he says, face turning hard again. ‘Know summat about that, does you?’

‘Aye, I fuckin’ do an’ all.’

‘Go on then.’

‘Legs.’

‘What about him?’

‘Legs. Legsy. Had yer doofer, didn’t he. Stole it off Mandy, he did. An’ you know what he done with it then? Gave it to Fenton.’

‘Bollocks. Legs is all right. Been helpin’ us out of late, he has. Ain’t that right, our Jess?’

‘Fuh.’

‘S’right. He’s a good lad and we’ll be bringin’ him into the fold at Hoppers once we gets her back.’

‘Get her back?’

‘Aye. Course. Fenton can’t keep it, can he?’

‘Why not?’

‘Fuckin’ dead, ennit. Feller from the big city got him. Always on the cards, mind. Ripped off the wrong feller, I hears. But some folks you can’t hide from. Not even in Mangel. What you make of that, eh? Your boss, a crook.’

I puffed out me cheeks and shook my head. ‘Don’t seem the type, do he.’

‘Just how he wanted it, that is. Hidin’, see. New identity an’ that.’

‘Ah. But it don’t make Hoppers yours, now, do it?’

‘Don’t you fuckin’ worry about that. Go on. Move it, you cunt.’ He stuck the gun barrel in me ribs, quite possibly breaking one of em.

‘Hang on, what about Legs?’

‘What about him? Shift.’

‘Gave the doofer back to Fenton, he did.’

‘Bollocks did he. You did. You’re the one who stole it off our Mandy. Telled us all about it, she did. You took it off her and brained her with a big rock. Got a lot to answer for, you has. An’ you’ll be answerin’ for it tonight. I can tell you that much for nuthin’.’

‘It were Legs. Fenton told us it were. Legsy swiped it off Mandy and gave it back to him.’

I shut up for a bit to see if Lee had summat to say about that. But he didn’t. That meant I had him. All I had to do now were reel him in.

‘Know what else, Lee? You oughta listen careful here cos it concerns you. You wanna own Hoppers again? Wanna see the name MUNTON above the door? Well you’ll have a problem, cos in return for handin’ back his doofer Fenton signed over half of Hoppers to Legs. What about that, eh? Legsy such a good lad now, eh?’

Lee scratched his chin and chewed his lip and looked at Jess. ‘What about it, Jess? Believe him does you?’

‘No. Fungcunt. Killthfugger…’ He went on like that.

When I turned back to Lee he punched us in the guts and told us to fucking move or I’d die there and then. I lurched up the side road, him kicking us up the arse and Jess barking nonsense at us. The Meat Wagon were parked out in the road, being as it were too wide to get up the side lane. Jess opened the back up while Lee shoved the shotgun up me nose. I looked inside the offy and made eye contact with the feller there. He shook his head and got on with reading his paper. A second or two later I were in the back of the Meat Wagon for the first time in my life. The doors slammed.

I squeezed me eyes shut and tried not to think about it at first. It’s just a fucking van like any other, I says to meself. I listened for two doors opening and slamming up front and the engine firing up. But none of that happened. I sat dead still for about four hours it seemed, although it might well have been half a minute. Nothing happened, and soon enough I got cramp on me right leg and had to stretch a bit.

I were still trying to josh meself that I were lying on a park bench. It weren’t working so well now. Bits and bobs about the van was seeping into my head and making emselves known. The smell first off. Dried blood and diesel.

I opened me eyes and found that it weren’t pitch black like I’d reckoned it would be. A dim light were threading through from up front. I looked up there and found a little oblong window smeared in muck. Not much light came through it but enough to show us that the back of the van were near empty. Besides a lot of dirt and crap lying around, the only other thing in there were a rolled up bit of tarpaulin shoved up against the front. I tottered over to the back door to see if I could get it open. It were shut tight and I couldn’t find no handle. That had us panicking and I lost it a bit. I started booting the metal again and again like it were a tractor tyre. Only it weren’t no tractor tyre. It were a metal door and it fucking hurt. After a bit I stopped and fell over, hurting me shoulder. I might have cried out in pain just a tad, things being as they was, and I aired a few choice words for surely. While I were lying there in agony I opened me eyes and clocked summat moving up front, behind the glass window. I got up and hobbled closer.

I went to give the glass a wipe but stopped when I noticed the grime were more like fingerprints. Greasy new ones atop dark and flaky old ones. I didn’t want to touch em so I got up close and peered through. There were nothing to see, just a big blur with a bit of windscreen wiper across the one side. Summat inside us said lean over and peer to the right, so I did just that. And surely enough there were the top of someone’s head, straight dark hair covering a neat little head.

‘Hoy,’ I yells. ‘Who’s there?’

The head moved back so I couldn’t see it. But I had seen it, hadn’t I. So I kicked the panel with me good foot and yelled again. Didn’t see no reason not to. I were fucked, far as I could see. And this feller up front couldn’t be one of the Muntons, being as I hadn’t heard Lee and Jess get back in. And if it weren’t a Munton…well, I didn’t rightly know what. But it were someone, weren’t it?

‘Hey, answer us, fuck sake. I’m Royston Blake, head doorman of—’

‘I knows who you are,’ comes back a bird’s voice. A familiar one, like all voices are in the Mangel area. And then a face loomed up t’other side of the mucky glass. It were so close I couldn’t make much of it out. But I knew who she were all right. ‘An’ I knows what yer job is. An’…oh, just shut up.’

You ain’t meant to yell or curse at birds. Not even when they does same to you. Not even when you’re hurting and locked in the back of the Meat Wagon and she’s up front all warm and smug. It’s one of them things separates us from the monkeys, so they says. And I happens to agree. So when I spoke I did so in a calm and reasonable manner. ‘Now, Mandy,’ I says. ‘I dunno just what you’re doin’ up yonder. Seems to me you oughtn’t to be there, bein’ as the last time I seen you, you was—’

‘Just shut up, Blake.’ She were sitting back in the driver’s seat again so I couldn’t see her. But her voice came from not two feet away. ‘I heared all about what you done. The less said the better, far as I sees it.’

‘Woss you heared? Whatever it is, Mand, I tells you it ain’t true. It weren’t—’

‘Woss you done? Woss you done, you says? You killed my brother. Killed little Barry an’…an’ all I can say is I’m glad Lee and Jess picked me up on the road to Furzel. I’m glad cos now I gets to drive you out to Hurk Wood meself.’

‘Hurk Wood? But, Mand, what about all that stuff we talked about?’

‘What stuff?’

‘You know, in the lock-up there. Over in Norbert Green.’

‘What did we talk about?’

‘Oh, come on. You remembers.’

‘What?
You
come on.’

‘You know…stuff.’

‘Like what?’

‘Well all right. I don’t rightly recall what particular words was said. But—’

‘Well there’s yer answer then, ennit. It ain’t important enough to recall.’

‘Mand, come on, girl. Let us out an I’ll…’ To be honest I weren’t sure what I’d do if she let us out. And while I were thinking of summat the back doors swung open and the van filled up with cold air.

‘Company for you,’ says Lee as he and Jess heaved Legs into the van. Legs were unconscious or thereabouts, and the heaving weren’t coming easy on Jess’s side. But Lee bore the brunt, and after a bit they got the whole of Legs in and slammed the doors once again. Then they climbed up front and started her up.

Legs lay where he’d fell for a long while. I thought about getting up and having a go at kicking him to death, him being the cause of all this and all. But what were the point of that? We was both fucked. No use bickering now. So I ignored him and closed me eyes and tried to shut my brain off.

I normally finds it easy to do that, long as there’s nothing to distract us. But there were a grating noise coming from somewhere and it were fucking annoying. Legs were sat still, so it couldn’t be him. I looked around and saw the tarp. It were rubbing against itself as the van rocked this way and that. It were getting cold in there, and I wondered about stretching some of that tarp over us blanket-like. But nothing came of such thinking. No point having warm legs when I were about to cark it, were there?

Suddenly the van swerved hard left, sending us arse over. My back hit the front panel and I fell down on the tarp. I pushed meself up off of it, noting with interest that it weren’t just a tarp after all. Summat were in it. Summat soft and hard at same time. Just like folks is soft and hard at same time.

That and the van swerving to the right just then made us fall over. I landed on my arse back where I’d been sat. A bit of the tarp had come away at one end, revealing what looked to be a shiny black shoe.

‘Who the fuck is in there?’ says Legsy.

The van went over a huge pothole a bit fast, sending the tarp in the air. When it came down a dead feller popped out, his big right arm lopped off and strapped upside his body. He lay there staring at us, face lit up grey by dim moonlight through the greasy little window, same dopey look on his face as when I’d tried to run him down outside Hoppers just now.

‘Who the fuck is that?’ says Legsy again, voice all high-pitched and womanish now.

‘Outsider, ennit,’ I says. ‘Reckons he’s a doorman. Serves him fucking right, you asks me. Called us a turnip, he did.’

I sniffed and wiped me nose. Road were getting rougher under us, which had my arse slamming up and down on the metal floor. We’d be going into the woods now, driving slow up the dirt track. I weren’t scared. You’d reckon I would be, this being the end. But you know what? I couldn’t give a toss.