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  As he leered at her now she looked away. Men, she had always thought, were so predictable. Well, Paulie was in for a shock and no mistake!

  Jeanette was with Jasper, the man of her dreams. As usual school was out of the question and she was truanting round a squat used by his friends. To her he was the be all and end all. His deep blue eyes were like magnets to this child-woman and he knew it. And used it.

  Girls liked Jasper Copes. He was good-looking and he was hard. What more could any of them want?

  The only thing that spoiled it was that Jasper and all his friends were racists. They belonged to the new breed of skinheads. Jeanette’s having a brother with a Jamaican father was not really something that endeared her to the people around her in this squat. Even the girls looked at her askance, and talked about her and Jasper among themselves.

  Jeanette secretly hated it here, but it was where Jasper wanted to be so she followed like the good little girl she was. She knew that when Jon Jon found out who she was seeing there would be murders, but Jasper had a hold over her and she felt if she wasn’t with him her life would be worth nothing any more.

  She prayed daily that Jon Jon and Jasper would meet and get on. But that was one miracle even Jesus would be hard pressed to perform.

  Her eyes lingered on the BNP posters and she shut her ears to the racist banter all around her. She felt left out, and as much as she loved Jasper, she was glad. She wouldn’t want to feel comfortable in a place like this. These people were ignorant and they were ugly, both inside and out.

  She wished she knew what exactly it was about Jasper that made her so eager to overlook his lifestyle. True, he was the leader, the one they all looked up to and listened to. Sometimes when she saw him in this mode he frightened her. But alone with her he was softer, and made her feel good about herself. So he couldn’t be all bad surely?

  One of his friends, Polo Jenkins, said to her loudly, forcing her from her reverie, ‘I said, did the filth get your brother yet?’

  ‘’Course not!’

  She spoke to him as if he was stupid and this was noted by everyone there. One thing about being Jon Jon’s sister: it made people wary of you. Being Jasper’s bird helped a lot as well.

  The atmosphere was charged for a few seconds and she saw Jasper grin. He liked it when Jeanette defended herself.

  She sighed. They were talking once more about their god Nick Griffin and she went back on to autopilot. Ten minutes later she said, ‘I’m off, Jasper.’

  The conversation was now about the poor African immigrants in Northampton of all places, and how AIDS cases had increased by three hundred per cent since their arrival there.

  Jasper smiled at her.

  ‘Give me a minute, mate.’

  She shook her head.

  ‘I said, I’m off. And that means now.’

  She stared him out and could see him debating his reaction with himself. Eventually he shrugged.

  ‘Fair enough.’

  She left the squat, and when she got outside and the fresh air hit her, took deep breaths as if to clean her lungs from the stench of their hatred. She also heard loud laughter from inside and was shrewd enough to know it was from a joke made at her expense.

  Sad, but feeling strangely lighter, she made her way home. Those people were sick and she wanted nothing to do with them, Jasper included. She didn’t really mean that, and she knew it, but it made her feel better to think she could act so tough. She didn’t need him, she didn’t need anyone. Her mother’s neglect and the years spent in and out of care had seen to that. The sensible part of her was saying, ‘Walk away from him.’ Their lives were too different and all the scheming to see him was killing her. If Jon Jon only knew! She felt hot every time she thought about it.

  However, when Jasper caught up with her five minutes later Jeanette felt inexplicably pleased. He had chased after her. That in itself was a first. It proved he really did care about her, she had to believe that. As he smiled down at her Jeanette felt her heart melt.

  He wasn’t all bad, not like he thought he was. If that was true he wouldn’t be here with her now.

  She had walked away and he had followed her. For once she held the power in their relationship and it felt good. She only hoped it lasted.

  Twenty minutes later she was stretched out in his bed, the grubby sheets giving off their familiar rank smell. His mother as usual was nowhere to be seen. Karen Copes spent most afternoons in the local pub with her cronies.

  The strange thing was, Jeanette didn’t even enjoy this bit of it, but if it was what it took to keep him, then so be it.

  She did what Jasper wanted and she did it willingly.

  Kira and Tommy were now fast friends, and knowing that she had unlimited access to his Barbie collection was the icing on the cake as far as she was concerned. His dad was nice to her as well, though she often felt the atmosphere between him and Tommy. But Joseph Thompson always gave her a kind word and somehow she knew that life was easier for Tommy when she was there.

  She went to the flat nearly every night after school just to peek at the dolls. Tommy would spend ages ironing the little outfits; they even had their own tiny hangers. As he watched Kira raptly rearrange the dolls’ wardrobe he could not help but smile.

  He made her a glass of orange and fished out a bag of plain crisps as a snack. He knew her likes and dislikes now, which was something else that pleased him.

  His father watched them and shook his head.

  ‘We’ve got to be careful, Tommy, you know that.’

  He nodded.

  He really wished his father would stop nagging. As he said himself, it was all in the past. This was a new start for them both.

  Jon Jon heard Paulie before he saw him. Sighing, he finished his drink. Paulie was beside him in a second.

  ‘What you doing in here, son?’

  Paulie’s voice was friendly yet wary. He knew he wasn’t Jon Jon’s favourite person, but he could live with that. He had known him since he was a kid after all and had always liked him. He remembered when Jon Jon had liked him back, many moons ago. To give old Joanie her due, she had not done a bad job with him.

  But word on the street was that he was a good little earner, and Paulie was always after the main chance.

  Jon Jon answered him quietly.

  ‘Having a drink.’

  The sarcasm was not lost on either of them.

  ‘You old enough now then?’

  Jon Jon smiled despite himself.

  ‘In here I am. Have been since I was fourteen.’

  Paulie, like Jon Jon, couldn’t resist looking at himself in the mirrored bar. He tidied his hair and said, ‘What you drinking?’

  Without waiting for an answer he said to the tall blonde with no bra and a permanent smile, ‘Two large brandies, love.’

  He gazed around the bar, clocked every female and rated every man in the place. He waved to one or two men and smiled at most of the women over sixteen and under thirty-five.

  ‘So how is Haile Selassie these days then? Alive and well and living in South London?’ He tugged Jon Jon’s dreads as he said it.

  ‘Fuck off, Paulie.’

  The smile was gone now and Paulie answered in a serious voice: ‘I’ve fucking killed for less and you should know that. But for the sake of your mother, I’ll overlook it.’ He paused before he said, ‘This time anyway.’

  It was a warning and Jon Jon knew it. He didn’t answer. Whatever Paulie was or wasn’t, he was classed as a bad man. Not a member of the heavy mob like local legend Big John McClellan, but a hard man nevertheless who could take care of his own interests and Jon Jon knew it would be wise for him to remember that fact.

  The jukebox came on and Gareth Gates was singing in the background. The place was buzzing even this early in the day. By six it would be packed. Jon Jon picked up his drink and raised it to Paulie.

  ‘Did your mum mention I wanted to see you?’

  He shook his head. Paulie knew it was a lie. If
he told one of his girls to run naked up Park Lane setting fire to her farts, she would do it.

  Jon Jon stared ahead and for a second Paulie felt an urge to slap the boy across the face, give him a humiliating little tap. How dare the kid look down his nose at him? Because that was the message he was getting.

  Instead he sipped his brandy before saying, ‘Listen, cunt, I don’t want your arse, I just want to know what you’re involved in and if I am interested I might want a little slice, see? Now option two, which I must admit is far more in my favour than yours, is I find out on me Jack Jones and then I remove it from you for once and for all. Do you get my drift?’

  Jon Jon felt the heat of humiliation sweep over his face and neck. Watching, Paulie felt almost sorry for him. He liked this kid’s temerity. It reminded him of himself at the same age. He was running his first woman at sixteen - the fact it had been his own mother he kept well under wraps. She lived in Eastbourne these days and enjoyed the quiet life. He avoided her like the plague, but saw her all right for a few quid. He knew where his priorities lay.

  ‘So, Jon Jon, shall we sit down and start this conversation again? Only this time you are more forthcoming and I am less aggressive. What do you say, eh?’

  He was smiling and Jon Jon knew he was captured. But one day . . . one day he would be able to tip this man’s bollocks, and he could wait for that. He was young yet, he could bide his time. So he would. But when the time came, he would enjoy wiping the smile off this man’s face once and for all.

  They picked up their drinks and went to a table that miraculously became vacant when they showed they wanted to sit there.

  Even as he hated Paulie, Jon Jon loved the respect he got from everyone. It was what he was determined to win for himself and his family. His mother especially. He knew that whatever Joanie had done, she had done for the right reasons. He’d reminded himself of that fact since he was eight years old.

  He talked to Paulie when they were finally settled. Really didn’t have any choice in the matter.

  Joanie was back on the kerb and she hated it. In fact, tonight she had meant to have a night off. A tooth was hurting and she was soaking cotton wool in brandy and cloves and pressing it into the hole.

  She was also drinking large vodka and Cokes so that when she went to sit outside with the other women she was already drunk.

  Kira was running round with Bethany and their laughter was loud in the summer air. A red-haired girl was sitting across from Joanie on the left-hand side of the drying area. She was very pretty and dressed nicely which was what made her stand out.

  ‘Who’s she?’

  Joanie’s voice was slurred.

  ‘That’s Caroline’s sister. She’s staying for a few days. Left her old man.’

  ‘Oh, is it? She looks familiar.’

  Barbara Moxon, Joanie’s neighbour, raised her eyes to the ceiling and said, ‘Don’t you remember her? Her little girl was murdered last year. Or was it the year before . . .’

  ‘That’s right. I remember now. Poor girl, what a thing to have happen to your child.’

  ‘Go off your head, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Lovely-looking girl and all.’

  Barbara nodded in agreement, as if being good-looking had ever warded off evil. They watched the girl as she collected her belongings and made her way up to her sister’s flat. As she walked towards the lobby doorway she turned and looked back at them for a few seconds then she walked inside and was lost from sight.

  The mood was flat now and Joanie took a deep gulp of her drink. Her mobile rang and she answered it.

  ‘What? Oh, for fuck’s sake . . .’

  ‘What’s the matter, girl?’

  ‘Monika’s been nicked, wants me to have Bethany tonight. She’s beaten up a store detective. That bird gets steadily fucking worse.’

  Her mobile rang again and she answered it with a curt, ‘OK.’

  She stood up and stretched. ‘See you later.’

  On her way upstairs she rang Jeanette and demanded she got herself home. Thanks to Monika she had to work tonight, toothache or no toothache.

  But she could have done without it. She was already three sheets to the wind and it was going to be a long night, she already knew that much.

  It was bad enough when you felt one hundred per cent, but when you felt wafty it was a bastard.

  She wouldn’t even bother having a bath.

  Jasper was annoyed and it showed.

  ‘Why do you have to look after her? Why can’t Fatty have her?’ They were in bed and they were stoned, but his voice was still angry. ‘I wanted us to have a night in together, Jen.’

  Jeanette made a decision.

  ‘Fuck her. Fatty can have her. I just won’t go home.’

  She settled down once more and put her mother, brother and sister out of her mind completely. There would be ructions but she would sort it all out as and when. For the moment she was happy where she was.

  Joanie knew after an hour that her daughter wasn’t coming home and rang Tommy. While she waited for him, she cursed Jeanette under her breath. She didn’t want to take the piss with Tommy in case he got the ache with coming over so often. Even though she knew he loved it, you could have too much of a good thing and she had done a deal with Jeanette that as long as she looked after her sister now and again, Joanie wouldn’t be too hard on her.

  Now Jeanette had let her down again and even though she knew her daughter was only being a typical teenager this complete lack of regard was starting to get on Joanie’s nerves. Well, if Jen wanted any money this week she could whistle for it.

  She wondered who it was her daughter was seeing, and what kind of person he might be. Jeanette was so secretive these days and Joanie was past trying to get anything out of the tight-lipped girl. She would ask Jon Jon to put his ear to the ground. See what he could come up with.

  Kira was ready for bed and waiting with bated breath for Tommy. Joanie smiled as she looked at her younger daughter. She was a good kid, bless her. She knew she wouldn’t have half the trouble with her that she’d had with the other girl.

  That in itself was something to be glad about. She couldn’t go through all this again, for all the money in the world.

  Paulie and Jon Jon found their truce was working better than either of them had expected. In fact they had a lot in common, but then when Jon Jon had been a kid this man had been good to him. Jon Jon realised now that it was because Paulie had wanted his mother in his stable, but he accepted that. If he had a fight with everyone who had ever used her he would never have time to sleep. Anyway she’d gone willingly, though that still didn’t mean he had to like it, did it?

  But as much as he hated Paulie’s main money-spinner, he admired his acumen and business sense. Jon Jon could learn a lot from this man. He could also, if he used his loaf, get his mother out of the life and into the know.

  He realised early on in their conversation that with Paulie in his corner his profits could increase tenfold at least. And that was only at the rate he was dealing now. Once he hit the big time he would earn silly money.

  ‘You done Carty, didn’t you?’

  Paulie’s voice was low, conversational.

  Jon Jon shrugged but didn’t answer, his face completely devoid of expression.

  Paulie laughed.

  ‘Good lad. I heard through the grapevine that he was smoking the profits.’

  Jon Jon scowled.

  ‘Who told you that?’

  He was annoyed to think he had been the topic of public conversation, and this fact showed in his face. He was fuming at the thought of his private business being common knowledge; it just made him even more glad he had unloaded that waster Carty. Because this had to have come from him, it certainly didn’t originate from Jon Jon’s own mouth. When Carty finally came out of hospital he was going to go straight back in there, Jon Jon would see to that himself.

  Paulie was laughing once more.

  ‘Easy, tiger!’

&nb
sp; He finished his brandy before saying, ‘Calm down, it was only an observation made by someone I trust.’

  But the boy’s reaction pleased him. He was proud, too proud really, but it showed he could keep his mouth shut and that was important as far as Paulie was concerned. Jon Jon forced his emotions under control and Paulie stopped himself from laughing again.

  He liked this kid! For all his man’s size and obvious intelligence, he had the temper of a five year old. But he would learn, and Paulie would teach. He knew the boy had a natural head for business, was already raking in a good wedge at only seventeen. Under expert guidance and tuition he would become a force to be reckoned with.