Love My Enemy (12 page)

'I will not.'

'Yes, you will.' Sue caught her breath and spoke
very deliberately. 'Because if you don't, Gary,
I
will
ring the police and tell them to charge you with
criminal damage.'

Sue and Gary stood eyeballing each other for a full
minute. It was only when Zee let out a sob that they
turned around. She had sunk down onto the doorstep as
if it was all just too much and tears were trailing down
her face.

It was a long night. Zee lay with her eyes wide open,
listening to her mother and Gary arguing in the kitchen.
Gemma, woken by the noise, crept sleepily into bed beside
her and curled her thin arms around Zee's neck. Eventually
the arguing stopped, the lights went out, and Gemma's
breathing slowed and deepened. But still Zee lay awake.

If only she hadn't fallen for Conor, none of this would
have happened. Why had she asked Conor for the taxi
fare that day? Why had she not gone to Melanie or Tracy
or Pip?

Deep down Zee knew the answer and guilt scorched
over her. No other boy had a smile that made her heart
race, and when Conor's eyes softened and his voice
dropped to a whisper, he made her ache with longing.

Perhaps she should tell Gary the truth now, before
Des did. Perhaps it was not too late. It might stop him
cracking up over Tasha, ruining the whole neighbourhood,
murdering Conor. But what on earth would he do
to her?

Next morning Zee woke with an aching head, but
during the night one idea had taken shape. She must stop
seeing Conor, just for a while, until people calmed
down. Gary would be watching every move Conor
made. Judging by the slamming of pots and pans downstairs,
her mother was still furious too.

Zee sneaked the cordless phone up to her bedroom,
dialled 141 and then rang Conor's number.

'Yes?' Mr O'Keefe's voice was gruff.

'Can I – er – speak to Con?'

'No,' he bawled and hung up.

The miserable old git. Zee threw down the phone in
despair. How was she going to get a message to Conor
now?

She wandered outside to where the twins were wisely
keeping out of their mother's way. They had heard about
the fight and they were busy picking stones and bits of
grass out of the little pond.

Slowly, snail-like with tiredness, Zee climbed the
laburnum tree. She separated the foliage discreetly,
craned her neck, and sighed. There was Gary, guilty for
the whole world to see, turping out his handiwork from
the night before. And right beside him stood Ruby and
Des. Zee couldn't help wondering just what Gary had
ever done to deserve such loyalty.

Ruby had a cigarette in one hand and with the other
she was thrashing a scrubbing-brush back and forth so
violently that drops of red flew off it in all directions.
She didn't look chuffed. Des was not actually working
but his body language would have turned back a rattlesnake,
let alone the mild-mannered residents of Hazel
Grove. Neighbours hurried past, their heads down, on
the way to church. They didn't say a word but Zee knew
that her family would be the hottest gossip in the pews.

'
I
want to look,' demanded Gemma from ten feet
below.

'Okay, but don't let Gary see you – he's not exactly in
a good mood.'

'Neither's Mum,' moaned Josh, scowling up at her.
'She won't even take us to the shop for a lolly.'

'She can't face the neighbours, stupid,' said Gemma.

Zee felt a new pang of guilt. 'I'll take you later,' she
promised, climbing down. 'I'll buy you both choc ices
but I've got to see Tasha first.'

A new plan had formed in her head and she made for
Tasha's, studiously ignoring Gary and his friends. Des
spotted her at once though, and bellowed down the street.

'Well, well, look who it is!'

Zee hurried on but he shouted again and this time his
voice was accusing.

'So what were
you
up to last night, Zee?'

With a jolt like an electric shock she saw triumph
gleaming in Des's face. She said nothing but burst into
a run, bounced across Tasha's gravel drive and leapt the
three porch steps together.

'Des knows!' she cried as soon as the door opened.
'He knows about me and Conor. I'm sure he does!'

'Ssh!' Tasha's finger flew to her lips. 'He can't do,
silly. He'd have told Gary and you'd be dead by now.'

It wasn't exactly reassuring. 'You've gotta help me,'
begged Zee. 'You've got to take a message to Conor.'

'Me . . . ?' Tasha backed off a step at the mere
suggestion.

'You're not going to
believe
what happened last night.'

Magda, appearing from the kitchen, caught the last
sentence. 'Puppy love?' she asked, grinning.

'No!' declared both girls at once.

She laughed. 'Before you vanish upstairs I've got
something exciting to tell you. Twenty Bosnian refugees
are going to be settled here next month.'

'Riveting,' said Tasha.

Magda ignored the sarcasm and continued enthusiastically.
'So . . . two weeks on Saturday we're entertaining
some local business people who are going to help fund
the programme.'

'God, not a musical evening, Mum!'

'No, a dinner party. I'd like you to be there, Tasha.'

'What on earth for?'

'Because you're my daughter. Could you make it too,
Zee?'

'Er – I think I'm busy that night.'

'Shame. You can help me choose menus, Tasha, and
help with the cooking if you like.'

'Could we make Death by Chocolate for dessert?'

'Er – perfect.' Magda brushed her arm affectionately.
'I thought it might be fun to do something like this – you
and me together.'

'Maybe.'

Tasha was not exactly bowled over with enthusiasm
but Zee could tell that she was a little bit pleased. They
went upstairs to her bedroom where Zee filled her in on
the previous night's events. Afterwards, Tasha was even
less keen to act as messenger.

'They're still out there,' she said, peering through the
window. 'Gary and Des and that awful Ruby! I can't
walk past all of
them
.'

'You owe me,' said Zee bluntly.

'Couldn't it wait till they've gone?'

'No. Heaven knows what Conor might do next. Or
Gary. I tried ringing Con earlier but his dad hung up.'

'If only he had his own mobile . . . 'Tasha stroked her
polished nails rather rapidly. 'I do
want
to help, Zee . . .
it's just that I'm not . . . er. . . awfully good at this sort of
thing.'

'Don't try and worm your way out of it, Tasha.'

'Zee!'

'You got me into this mess – the least you can do is
help me out of it. If you hadn't lied to Gary about going
out with Conor, none of this would have happened. Not
the graffiti, not the fight, nothing!'

'I know.' Tasha looked up at her miserably. 'I really
am sorry.'

'Then take my message to him. He's got to understand
that we can't risk meeting.'

Tasha swallowed hard. 'What if they attack me?'

'Gary's nuts about you, Tasha, he won't hurt you.'

'And Des?'

'It'll just confuse Des. If he sees
you
going in there it
might put paid to his suspicions about
me
.' Tears sprang
unexpectedly to Zee's eyes. 'Everything's got so out of
hand, Tasha – we've got to stop it.'

'Oh, don't cry!' Tasha put an arm around her
awkwardly. 'Okay. . . I will go . . . even if wild, witchy
woman is out there.'

'Ruby? Does Ruby still bother you? I thought you
didn't fancy Gary any more.'

Tasha pouted. 'That doesn't mean I want him fancying
Ruby.' She took several deep breaths. 'Okay. . .
scary people here I come.'

Tasha couldn't help feeling flattered by Gary's
reaction as she made her way up the hill. Flattered and
frightened. The look on his face as she stopped outside
the O'Keefes' was as plain as banner headlines in the
Sun
. Even with Ruby's restraining hand on his arm,
Gary looked as if he wanted to burst out of his own skin.

'Where are you going?' he cried as she turned towards
the O'Keefes' gate.

'To talk to Conor,' she said shakily.

'Don't do that!'

'Leave her be,' muttered Ruby. 'Ye can't stop her ye
know.'

Tasha gave Ruby a grateful nod and walked on self-consciously.
Des was frowning nastily at her. He knew
Zee's secret all right and his stare seemed to pin her to the
pavement like a butterfly to a board. Tasha wished she
was brave, like Zee, but inside, she felt hopelessly feeble.

'How ye doing?' Ruby went on, friendly enough. 'Ye
okay?'

Tasha nodded again, struggled to find her voice, and
waved her hand at the paint. 'This looks ghastly,' she
managed at last.

Ruby sniffed disapprovingly. 'Aye, boys will be boys.'

Suddenly Des planted himself right in front of Tasha
and she recoiled as if someone had thrown an adder
under her feet.

'Can you remember what this said last night, Tasha?
Bet you can't!' His eyes narrowed suspiciously. 'What
exactly are you up to?'

'Leave me alone, Des Gordon!'

'Yeah, leave her be,' said Gary. 'Quit messin'.'

'Ye jerk!' added Ruby. 'Let her past.'

Des stood aside reluctantly and Tasha flew past the
metal gate in the wall, banging it shut behind her.

'Please don't go in there,' called Gary. 'You don't
know what you're doing to me, Tash!'

Tasha wasn't enjoying the experience either. She
hurried up the garden path and behind her she could hear
Ruby trying to calm Gary down. She pressed the doorbell
twice in quick succession and Conor hauled her
inside.

'What the hell are you doing here?' he demanded.

'That's charming! I risked my neck coming to see you.'

'
Your
neck?' he said through clenched teeth. 'Have
you any idea of the trouble you've caused?'

'Yes!' Recovering a little, she added, 'But you're not
completely innocent yourself. It was
you
who picked the
fight last night.'

He glared at her with his black eye, then said, 'So why
have you come?'

'Zee begged me to, that's why. She's worried about
you. Is . . . um . . . that eye painful?'

'It's fine. Sure I love looking like a liquorice allsort.'
He thrust his face forward for a close-up of the ugly
purple-black bruises and the livid red wounds.
'Meathead! If you hadn't told Gary we were going out,
none of this would have happened.'

'I know.' Tasha bit her quivering lip. It was bad enough
being a meathead. She didn't want to be a crybaby too.
'I've brought you a message, Conor.'

'What message?'

'Zee thinks that you shouldn't see each other for a
while.'

'Great!' He banged the flat of his hand against his
head. 'I knew this was coming, I just
knew
it.'

'Only for a while,' she repeated, 'until everyone
calms down. Zee's terrified that Gary might do something
else.'

'I wasn't planning to go outside and sunbathe.'

'She's scared for herself too. She saw Des at his
window last night. She thinks he recognised her.'

Conor's eyes closed momentarily, then he started
pacing up and down the hall. She could see that he was
worried about Zee's safety even if he didn't care much
about his own.

'And what do you think?' he asked, turning to her.
'Do you think Des knows?'

'He was . . . er. . . asking some funny questions just now.'

'And how did the Brain of Britain cope with that?'

'I did my best!' Tasha knew that she didn't impress
Conor one little bit, he zoomed in on all her weak spots.
'There's no need to treat me like something that's stuck to
your shoe,' she added. 'And yes, I think Des does know.'

Conor kicked the wall in frustration. 'It doesn't look
like we've much choice, does it? My parents aren't
going to let me out of their sight anyway. Okay, tell Zee
we'll play it safe and stay apart for a while.'

Tasha sighed in relief. Perhaps it had been worthwhile
coming after all. 'Zee said she'd meet you two weeks on
Saturday – the day your exam results come out.'

'The fifth of August. Tell her to meet me well away
from Hazel Grove – tell her to be at Bookbinder's at
seven o'clock. And tell her—'

'Yes?'

He blushed. 'Never mind, she already knows. Now
you'd better get outa here before my old man gets back
from chapel and does something very unchristian to
you.' He opened the front door again.

'Conor. . . I'm. . . I'm sorry. I had no idea all this
would happen. It's mad over here!'

He glanced over her head to the gate. 'Maybe we
should try harder to confuse Des. That shouldn't be
difficult.'

'How? What do you mean?'

He took a deep breath. 'I promise, this is going to hurt
me a lot more than it hurts you.' With that he put his
arms around her, fastened his lips on hers and gave her
a long lingering kiss. Tasha was so gobsmacked she
almost fell over.

Gary started yelping like a foxhound. If Des and Ruby
had not held him back, Tasha felt quite sure he would
have torn Conor to pieces.

'I'll have you, O'Keefe,' he was yelling. 'You wait!'

Tasha fled out of the gate past the three of them and
ran down the hill. Ruby was hushing Gary but it didn't
stop him shouting after her.

'What are you doing to me, girl? You're doing my
head in! Tasha, you're crackin' me up!'

But somehow it wasn't Gary who frightened her. It
was Des with his long penetrating stare that followed
Tasha all the way home.

Des saw his mother come out of their house and frown
over the hedge at the rumpus. He gave her a full
hundred-watt scowl and she scuttled back indoors
without a word. He wished Ruby would push off too.
Gary was a lot easier to handle without her around.

'Calm down, Gary!' she was saying, 'Just listen to
me. If anythin' happens to Conor now, ye'll be the one
that gets the blame.'

'I say Gary's right,' Des told her. 'I think we should
teach O'Keefe some manners.'

Ruby practically swallowed him whole. 'Who asked ye
to say anythin'? Ye big eejit! You're more like seven than
seventeen. Ye've not got the sense ye were born with.'

Des felt like slapping the backstreet tart but he
managed to keep his hands by his sides. He turned to
Gary. 'You just gonna leave it there? O'Keefe's got your
girl, he's got the whole street giving you the cold
shoulder and now he's standing on his doorstep winding
you up!'

'Ignore Des,' snorted Ruby.

'O'Keefe's making a fool out of you, Gary.'

'Shut up, Des!' Gary grabbed him by the jacket and
roared in his face. 'No one makes a fool outa me.'

'No?' Des swept his arms upwards in a single movement
that broke Gary's grip. 'What's wrong with you –
scared? We should make sure O'Keefe gets what he
deserves.'

Ruby's face turned the colour of her name. 'Ye'll get
Gary locked up, so ye will. Call yerself a mate?'

'It's Gary's decision.'

'Yeah,
my
decision.'

Des had a plan all worked out. 'We won't get caught,'
he said carefully, 'if you do exactly what I say. I'm
thinking of something that'll keep you and me in the
clear, Gary.'

'Like what?'

'Like getting help.'

'What kinda help?'

Des paused. 'Jimmy and Ben would sort him out for us.'

'No!' cried Ruby. 'Those two are lunatics!'

'But always happy to give a Fenian a good hiding!
Isn't that so?'

Ruby gave Gary a little shake. 'This is pure mad –
don't do it.'

Gary was chewing a knuckle, his eyes were round
and bright, he was thinking hard. 'I wouldn't want to be
in debt to that Ben,' he said. 'I only just kept me ribs
intact last time we met. God know what he'd want in
return for this.'

'We wouldn't be in debt,' said Des, ''cos we'd pay
them.'

'
Pay them
? With what? I'm not into mugging old
ladies and I haven't got that kind of cash, Des.'

'I have.'

Gary frowned. 'What's in this for you, Des?'

'Sorting out O'Keefe of course. You're me mate,
Gary – we go back a long way.'

Ruby's eyes narrowed. 'Ye're up to something, Des
Gordon – I know ye.'

Des glared at her, he had known she would cause
trouble. 'Okay, so I want to get in touch with Jimmy and
Ben again. So what? Gary blew it for me last time.'

'I'm not working for them again,' Gary muttered.

'You don't need to. But they'll do you a favour all the
same – and
I
can get back in there. Make myself some
decent money at last.'

'Yeah,' sneered Ruby. 'Ye lowlife – ye're just like them.'

Des clung onto his temper. 'I'm not going to sit
around for the rest of my life watching Fenians move in
on our girls! Well, Gary, what d'you say?'

'The cops will go straight to your door, Gary!'

'That's why we'll pay someone else to do the dirty
work, stupid! Gary will have an alibi all sorted out.'

Gary was still hesitating, torn between the two of
them. 'What if something goes wrong, Des? What if
Tasha gets hurt?'

'You needn't worry about that! But those two will put
the frighteners on Conor big time – he'll never want to
go near a Protestant girl again.'

Ruby shook her head, her big hair streaming out
around her. She was running out of arguments, she was
losing Gary. 'Ye do this, Gary. . . then me and ye's
finished.'

'What?' Gary looked as if she had slapped his face.
'Don't be ridiculous,' he said.

'I mean it. Come home wi' me, now. Do ye really
want more trouble? 'Cos see me, I've had a gut full of
it. Ye make up yer mind – it's me or Des.'

Gary stared at her. Stared as if they were communicating
in some strange language. The bond between
these two had always bugged Des, like rain trickling
down his neck, irritating but impossible to stop.
Suddenly Ruby flung away, her green Indian skirt
swinging round her Doc Martens. Des didn't even
realise he had been holding his breath until he let it go
again. Gary had chosen and he had chosen
him
.

Gary shouted angrily up the street after her. 'You and
me'll never finish, Ruby! There's too much between us!'
He turned, glowering, to Des. 'So – what exactly is it
you want me to do?'

The words sounded so sweet. Gary Proctor was
asking him, Des Gordon, for orders. 'You leave things to
me,' Des said coolly. 'I'll meet with Jimmy and Ben.
After what happened there last time, you'd better steer
clear. I'll fix it then let you know the details – all you
need to do is get yourself an alibi.'

Gary lifted a foot and kicked the wall hard. 'I could
have sorted this out myself, you know. I would have
done if we hadn't got interrupted last night.'

'But now you can't. You've gotta keep your head
down, that way you'll be in the clear – we both will.'

'Tasha mustn't get hurt, Des.'

'Trust me,' he said knowingly, 'Tasha will be fine.'

'She'd better be!' Gary was shouting, he was well
rattled. 'I'm not into hurting women, you know.'

Des nearly laughed. He was starting to enjoy himself.
Gary was too hot headed to be a leader. Gary had been
top dog for far too long. Why didn't anyone realise it
was him who kept his cool, not swaggering, good-looking
Gary? It was time to teach Gary and his
traitorous whore of a sister a lesson. Time to show them
both who really called the shots.

Des got busy the very next morning when his mother
went out to buy groceries. It took him half an hour to
find the desk key, hidden, this time, on top of a pelmet.
As he fumbled with the lock, the key slipped between
his fingers and scratched the oak desk his mother was so
fond of polishing. When he turned the key, water spilt
out of the bowl of flowers on top, staining her precious
antique.

Des pulled down the leaf and began rifling the desk.
Where had she hidden her money this time? Among the
bills and receipts? The guarantees and operating
instructions? The birth certificates, passports and
licences? Everything was so tidily filed in his mother's
life that having to hide her money must infuriate her.
She would far rather keep it in a shiny box neatly
marked 'cash'.

Des searched all the pigeonholes and banged his way
through the drawers underneath. The only photo of his
father was kept there; a soft looking guy not quite facing
the camera. Des tossed it away.

At the bottom of the third drawer, among the
operating instructions for the vacuum cleaner, he found
a hundred pounds. He pocketed it and went out of the
back door as his mother came in the front.

Mrs Gordon put down her plastic carrier bags and
discarded her grey cardigan with relief. It was far too hot
for cardigans but she would never have dreamed of going
sleeveless to the shops. Bare arms were for hussies.

She had carefully closed all the windows before she
went out and the little house was stifling now. She
crossed the living room to open the sash window and
saw, with a little shock, the puddle of water staining her
antique desk.

She ran into the kitchen, fetched a towel and mopped
it up but it had left an ugly white stain. Mrs Gordon tut-tutted
loudly then her eyes were drawn to the little
scratches around the keyhole.

She knew instantly that Des was responsible. He had
put the key back where he had found it. When she
opened the desk she uttered a little cry.

He did not usually leave a mess. Her heart began
beating like an injured sparrow's. Letters, bills and
certificates were scattered all over the place, the pigeonholes
were emptied, the drawers chaotic. Mrs Gordon
went straight to the operating instructions section of the
desk and flicked through the vacuum cleaner documents,
wondering if Des had left her anything at all.

There was nothing. Mrs Gordon looked helplessly
around the room. She had used up all the hiding places
now. Perhaps, in future, she would sew money into the
curtain hems.

Something must have upset Des, she thought, to
create this mess. She decided that it would be better not
to mention it to him, there was no point in upsetting
him more.

Chaos. She looked at the papers strewn everywhere. It
would take at least a couple of hours to sort it all out.
Mrs Gordon set to work with determination.

The pub was dingy. There weren't many places like this
left, even here in the heart of east Belfast. Tin ashtrays
on small round tables, a bare bulb hanging over a darts
board, a few ragged stools at the bar. It was a moment
before Des's eyes adjusted to the darkness and when
they did, he realised that everyone was looking at him.
There were no women. The men, tattooed and
overweight, stared at him suspiciously.

'Well, well,' Jimmy hailed him. 'If it isn't our pal
from Hazel Grove.'

'Jimmy. . . Ben . . . I thought I'd find you here. How
you doing?'

'We do okay. What brings you to these parts?'

Des slapped down a tenner on the bar. 'Three pints of
Guinness, please.'

They drank at a dirty table, watching a game of darts.

'Where's your mate,' asked Ben. 'The bag o' nerves
boy?'

'It's him I'm here about,' said Des, glad of the
opening. 'Gary's got a bit of bother.'

'What kinda bother?' Ben looked at him over the top
of his pint. 'Been shooting his mouth off again, has he?'

Des chose his words carefully. 'It's his sister. She's
been seeing a Fenian. Gary's tried to scare him off once
already but it kinda backfired.'

'The wee bitch,' said Ben. His eyes glistened as if
they were covered with a fine film of liquid paraffin.

'Their dad was killed by Fenians.'

'I remember you telling us,' said Jimmy. 'Copper,
wasn't he?'

'Aye – and now this.'

Ben drained his pint and wiped the froth off his lips
with a hairy forearm. 'So what is it you want from us?'

'Your help,' said Des lowering his voice. 'Gary's ma
will get the police to him if he tries anything else – but
you two could do it.'

'Do what exactly?'

Des took a deep breath; it was now or never. What
was Zee thinking of, choosing that scummy Fenian
instead of him? 'You could scare this Con O'Keefe off
once and for all,' he said. 'Teach them both to stick to
their own kind.'

Jimmy, supping his Guinness, said, 'It'd cost you
more than a pint.'

Des fumbled with the money under the table and
Jimmy counted it expertly out of sight.

'Daresay we could help,' he said, nodding at Ben.

'Be my pleasure.' Ben's face contorted in a big, gut-twisting
smile. 'We need the details, Des. When? Where?
How will we know them?'

Des's tongue felt hard and lifeless, like a piece of gum
spat out and hardened on a pavement. He swallowed
some beer, then he told them everything. Descriptions of
Conor and Zee. O'Keefe hadn't been seen around for a
couple of days, he explained, but he couldn't hide for
ever. The GCSE exam results were due out on the fifth
of August. Des had found that out with a single phone
call to the education department. O'Keefe was supposed
to be a clever geek so he was sure to be out celebrating
that night.

Des had no idea where they might go but he did know
that Zee had to be home by midnight. She had told him
so that night at the Co-op. That would put them in Hazel
Grove anytime after half eleven. They'd probably come
off the last bus.

Ben was nodding. 'My pleasure,' he said again and
out of his boot he pulled a blade. A long, black-handled
knife with a sharp, pitted blade.

Des felt his jaw drop. 'Bit heavy that,' he breathed.

'You told us O'Keefe's already been warned off
once,' muttered Ben.

'I'm paying you to batter him – that's all.'

'Okay,' said Jimmy. 'What about the girl . . . in the old
days she'd have been tarred and feathered.'

'Just give her a slap,' mumbled Des. 'Bring her back
to her senses.' And hopefully, he thought, back to him.

Ben stared straight at him, his eyes glistening in his
dark unshaven face. 'No way, Dessie boy,' he whispered.

Des broke into a sweat; it seeped from every pore in
his body, soaked his hair, his clothes, everything. 'What
do you mean?' he spluttered.

'She's a Fenian lover, isn't she? In spite of the fact
they murdered her own father!' Ben's eyes and mouth
widened venomously. 'I'll give her something she'll
never be able to forget.'

Des met Ben's paraffin eyes again. Rumours came
crowding back to him. Rumours half heard, half
understood, like a game of Chinese whispers. Stories
about Ben's girlfriend, blown to bits by an IRA bomb.
About Ben spending the rest of his life getting even.
'Zee's only young,' Des said hoarsely. 'She doesn't
understand what she's doing.'

'Then she needs to be taught.' Ben leaned towards him.
'You wouldn't be going soft on us would you, Des? Only
we never work with soft buggers, know what I mean?'

'I'm one of you,' Des said fiercely. He looked at the
big knife and swallowed hard. 'All the way.'

'Good.' Ben smiled his big terrifying smile again.

Maybe it was the heat or the dank, boozy atmosphere
but Des knew that if he didn't get out of that pub right
now he was going to keel over. Ben was playing with his
knife again, stroking the hairline edge lovingly with his
finger. As Des got to his feet, Ben made a swift jab.