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Authors: Richard A. Johnson

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Sexually abused teenagers, #Runaway teenagers, #Teenage boys, #Pedophilia, #Revenge

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BOOK: A Kind of Hush
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Chapter Ten

 

 

 

I stood by the monument to Dick Whittington and his cat on Highgate Hill, just down the road from the hospital. I was waiting for eleven o’clock and keeping a sharp lookout for anyone that I might know. I had rung the hospital earlier and had been told by the ward sister that I could see Ali for just ten minutes as I was her brother, but I had to wait until the doctors’ rounds were over, and they finished at eleven.

I was being ultra-careful because it seemed sensible to me that the evil bastard that had jumped me at the hotel could well have gone to my old man and between them they may well have sussed that I would come here.

It was eleven. Everything seemed okay, so I slipped into the hospital. Ali was a mess. Her face was one big bruise. There was a tube coming out of her nose and another from under the bedclothes about halfway down. That one emptied into a clear plastic bag hooked to the side of her bed. The bag was half-full of blood-stained piss. Both of her arms were in traction and the fingernails on both hands were black and inflamed. Her throat rattled with phlegm as she breathed and her blackened and swollen eyes were twitching as though
 some kind of insect was under her eyelids scurrying about.

I sat down beside the bed and softly called her name. She caught her breath for a second. I called again and this time gently placed my hand on her shoulder, I felt her pull away. I again whispered her name and this time she opened her eyes.

I gasped. I saw a Dracula film once where Christopher Lee's eyes had turned blood red, and as he died, tears of blood streamed down his face. I remembered laughing. But this wasn't Dracula, this was Alison. I couldn't bear it, I had to force myself to look at her. As she opened her eyes a pool of blood collected in the corner of each as she strained to see who it was that had awoken her.

'Hi, Ali,' I said softly, 'it's me, Stu.'

'Stu, is it really you?' she whispered.

'Yes, toots, it's really me,' I said. I had a massive lump in my throat and was finding it hard to control myself.

She smiled as best as she could and said, 'It's you all right, toots indeed.' I always used to call her toots when I wanted something.

I didn't ask her how she was, that was bloody obvious, so I said, 'Jen's safe, I've got her.'

'Thank God,' she said and breathed a long sigh of relief.

'I'm going to get him, Ali,' I said.

'You can't, you don't know, he's

'He's what?' I asked, 'he's what?'

'You just can't,' she mumbled with resignation.

'Course I can and I will.'

'Please don't, you don't understand,' she said.

'Understand what?' I asked. 'The slag can't get away 
with this.'

'Look Stu,' she said. 'Just take care of Jen, I don't matter any more, just forget it and look after Jenny and yourself.'

'Forget it!' I exclaimed. 'You know I can't do that. What else is there Ali? There's something you're not telling me.'

She went very quiet and started to weep softly.

'He's got my baby,' she said quietly.

'He's got what?'

'My baby, he's got my baby,' she said again between sobs.

'What baby?' I asked. I was gobsmacked.

T had another one. A little girl, her name's Cheri, he chose that too,' she said and sobbed softly. 'I don't know what he'll do with her, she's only three.'

'Right!' I said. 'That's enough. I promise here and now that you will never have to worry again, I'm going to sort it'

'Not the police,' she said. 'They messed it up last time.'

'No,' I said, 'not the police.' My mind was in overdrive. The sister told me that I had to go. I kissed Ali gently on the cheek and left.

I was mad, so fucking mad that it hurt. I ran down the stairs barging past everyone in my path and out of the hospital. I ran up the hill to the church on the corner. In front of the church was a giant crucifix with a figure of Jesus nailed to it.

'I thought you fucking protected kids!' I screamed as I ran past and into the park. I stopped at a pile of rubbish bins and kicked fuck out of them screaming, 'Bastard! Bastard! Fucking lousy stinking bastard!' at the top of my voice. I had to get that parasite out of my system, out of 
our lives. I fell to my knees and blubbed. The people watching must have thought that I had escaped from a nuthouse or something.

I put the phone down after checking with Beryl that everything was okay. I left the phone-box by Archway Station and jumped on a bus to Highbury. There I changed for a bus to Hackney.

I got to Mick's place at about two and pushed open the door. Waiting for me inside was Mick, Wiwa, Pete, Den and Alan. Tony was on his way with Si. Mick had already updated everyone and they were all keen to help.

None of us underestimated the problems this time. Not only did we have to get even with my old man, we had to get Cheri to safety and protect Jen and Ali from Gus and his goons. This one was going to keep us all very busy.

When the others had arrived we got down to making plans.

'We all ought to see the old bastard first,' said Mick. 'Just so as we know what we are dealing with.' Everyone agreed.

That's no problem,' I said. 'At nine o'clock tonight he'll be in his local, just like every other night.'

'Right,' said Mick. 'That's where we'll be going then.'

'What do we do about the others?' asked Wiwa. 'How are we going to find them? Do we just sit up at Stu's place and wait?'

'No,' said Mick. 'This time we've got to be clever, very clever.'

'How do you mean?' I asked.

'We are going to have to kidnap the slag,' said Mick. 'And then we are going to get him to tell us everything that we need to know. After we've got everything that we 
want from him, we are going to have to make fucking sure that he never bothers anyone ever again.' Mick sat back and looked intently at everyone's face. Then he added, 'And you all know what that means don't you?' Everyone was quiet.

'You saying that we've got to top this geezer?' asked Pete.

'Maybe,' answered Mick.

'That's a bit heavy innit?' said Den.

'I know, but there may be no other way,' said Mick.

'There's gotta be,' I said. 'We can't just kill him . . . can we?'

'Well, we could always cut off his feet and hands, cut out his tongue and blind him,' said Mick sarcastically. Then he added seriously, 'We may not have the choice Stu. We can't have him telling anyone, showing anyone, or writing it down, can we?'

'S'pose not,' I said, 'but I've got nothing to lose, I can't ask you guys to do this.'

'Who's asking?' said Mick. Then turning to the rest he said, 'How many of you are in?'

They all punched the air.

 

 
Chapter Eleven

 

 

 

We arrived at his local, just down the road from the YMCA at Crouch End, at about eight o’clock that night. We managed to get a booth to ourselves. They plonked me in the corner, got in some drinks and sat themselves down in such a way that I was completely covered. All I had to do now was point him out when he came in.

Wiwa tried to cheer us all up by cracking some of his stupid jokes. Didn’t work though. He then surprised us all by asking us what we thought about the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait. We all sat open-mouthed.

‘What!’ he said. ‘What’s up with you lot?’

‘You read the papers,’ said Mick.

‘Course I do,’ said Wiwa with a pained expression. ‘And what’s more, I’m gonna join up.’

‘Join the Army?’ I asked, my face wide with amazement.

‘Too right,’ said Wiwa. ‘There’s gonna be a battle and if there’s gonna be a battle I want to be there.’

‘What if they send you to Ireland?’ asked Mick.

‘No chance, I won’t go,’ said Wiwa. ‘I’ll tell them to stuff it.’

Good old Wivva I thought, he'll never change. Mick emptied a packet of crisps over Wivva's head as the rest of us creased up.

'Hold it down, lads,' said the landlord.

'Sorry, chief,' said Mick.

He came in at nine-fifteen and sat on a stool at the bar. He hadn't changed much I thought. The same greasy, stringy hair, the same nicotine-stained stubble. He was a bit greyer than I remembered and had a new pair of glasses perched on his beak like nose. But there was no mistaking him, he was still the same five feet, four inch piece of skinny shit that I had run away from all that time ago. I nodded to Mick and pointed him out.

'It's amazing innit,' said Mick. 'Look at the size of that bloke, if anything, a stiff wind would blow him over, but he ruled the fucking lot of you didn't he? You have to wonder how they do it, don't you?'

I nodded, I was feeling really scared.

'Right, watch this, lads,' said Mick, then he got up and went into the Gents.

Two minutes later, he came out and walked over to the bar. He stood next to my old man and ordered a pint of lager. He then nudged the old man's elbow as he was about to take a drink from his glass and made him spill it down himself.

'Shit! I'm sorry,' said Mick. 'Here, let me buy you another one.'

'No harm done,' said my old man, 'mine's a bitter.'

Mick ordered it and started a conversation with him. They were talking for a long time.

A few pints later the old man went to the Gents. Mick motioned to us and we all left. We piled back into the van 
and went back to Mick's. He said nothing at all until we got there.

Mick smiled and said, 'Stu, your old man is a prat. Everything we need to know about him he told me tonight. It's gonna be a piece of piss lifting him.'

'What'd he say then?' I asked.

'Right,' he said. 'One, he leaves the kid on her own every night when he goes to the pub, the neighbour just listens out for her. Two, he normally gets legless before he staggers home. Three, he's taking his beloved granddaughter back home to her mother in Brighton this weekend. He said that he will miss the little cherub.'

'But. . .' I said.

'Yes, I know,' said Mick. 'If Mum's in hospital, where's he taking the kid and what's going to happen to her?'

'We are going to have to move fast,' I said.

'Right,' said Mick. 'We lift the bastard on Friday. Now then, where do we take him?'

'Shanks,' said Wiwa.

'What?' asked Mick.

'Shanks. It's a factory just off Hackney Marshes. It was shut down about two months ago, my old lady used to work there. It's quiet and safe.'

'Nice one, Wiwa,' said Mick, 'Friday then guys.' Everyone nodded.

Wiwa thought that we ought to celebrate, so he conned Tony and me into going with him to get some booze and takeaways. We took the van and drove to Dalston to the Pie and Mash shop, best in the country I tell you. With enough pies, mash and liquor to fill three carrier bags we got back to the van and drove to an off-licence. One bottle of rum, one of whisky, a case of 
Carlsberg Special, four litres of Coke and we're set for a good night.

We got back to the van and were just about to climb in when we noticed a rumble going on over the road. Four skinheads were laying into a little Asian kid.

'Oi!' yelled Wivva, 'leave him alone, you wankers.'

One of them threw a bottle at us and we ducked as it smashed on the side of the van.

'Right, you've fucking asked for it now!' yelled Wivva as he grabbed the wheel-wrench from the van and charged across the road into the middle of them scattering them like skittles. Tony and me ran over to join him. We tore into them kicking, punching, spitting and scratching, they didn't know what had hit them. We kept on until all four of them had run away so fast that you couldn't see their arses for dust.

The little kid just vanished as we stood and shouted abuse at the big brave skins hobbling and staggering out of sight. We turned back to the van to see the kid come out from behind it and run as fast as his little legs could carry him down the road.

'Poor little fucker,' said Wivva as he climbed into the van. 'He must have been terrified, look at him go.'

'Oh he's terrified all right, Wiv,' said Tony, looking in the box behind the passenger seat, 'he's nicked your fucking rum.'

'What!' yelled Wivva as he lifted out a can of beer and checked for himself. He jumped from the van and chased after the kid, only to give up after about fifty yards. He threw the can after him but it crashed harmlessly to the ground some twenty or so yards further on, spraying beer into the air.

'Little git . . . shit. . . git,' he was muttering to himself as he got back to the van and climbed in. Tony and me were in hysterics.

We looked a right mess when we got back to Mick's but we loved every bit of it. It seemed to round off the day just right.

 

 
Chapter Twelve

 

 

Friday came. It was about five forty-five and we were all watching
Neighbours
on Mick’s telly in his front room. Takeaway pizza boxes and beer cans littered the floor. We were all extra nervous. I’d done specials before, but I was shitting bricks at the thought of this one.

The plan was simple, almost too easy. Mick will be in the pub, wait for the old man and get him talking again. Alan, Tony and Wiwa will be there too. I’m to wait with Pete, Den and Si for him to leave home. As soon as he’s gone into the pub, Si and me are going to go in and get Cheri. Pete and Den will keep watch. Once we’ve got her, me and Si take her in Mick’s Toyota to Greenford and Pete and Den join Mick and the others. When I’ve dropped Cheri off at Beryl’s, we bomb it back to the factory on Hackney Marshes. If we’re late, no problem, they should already be there. If early, fine, we can prepare things for their arrival.

Mick, for his part, reckons that he can chat the old bastard into going for a drive with him in the van to a very special stag night that he knows about. As his life is ruled by the feelings that he has below his belt, I was sure that Mick would have no problem with that. If on the other
 hand it didn't work, then they'll slug him and bung him into the back of the van.

Neighbours
had finished and it was time to go.

Mick, Alan, Tony and Wiwa left first. I followed on with Pete, Den and Si. We drove to Crouch End.

As Mick parked up by the side of the pub, I drove on a little further and stopped a few doors down from the house on the opposite side of the road. We then sat back and waited.

We didn't have to wait long. Almost on the dot at nine he came out, leaned over the wall and rang next door's bell. Old Mrs Simmonds came to the door. We heard her say, 'You off then, Tom? Well, have a nice time and don't worry about the kiddie.'

He waved and strutted off down the road. Pete followed him to the corner and waited for him to go into the pub before trotting back and saying, 'All clear boss.'

Si and me got out of the car and walked over to the house. I took out my key, hoping that it still fitted.

It didn't.

'Shit!' I said. 'He's changed the fucking locks.'

'What are we going to do?' asked Si.

'No sweat,' I said, as I stepped over the wall and rang on Mrs Simmonds's doorbell. Si went to go back to the car.

'Hold it, Si,' I said. 'There's no problem, honest.'

Mrs Simmonds opened her door.

'Yes,' she said. 'Who is it?'

'Hello, Maisy,' I said. 'It's me, Stu.'

'Hello, boy,' she said grinning, 'I haven't seen you for ages, how are you?'

'I'm fine thanks, Maisy, how are you?'

'Ooh, mustn't grumble you know. How's Jenny and 
Alison? Your dad says that you're all living with your granny in Brighton now, nice Brighton is, I went there once you know, are you anywhere near the beach?'

I swallowed hard, the bastard had covered everything.

' Yeah, not far from the beach, Maisy, you'll have to come down some time, I'm sure the girls would like to see you.'

'Ah, that is nice of you, I'd like that. Anyway, what can I do for you, love?' she said.

'I was supposed to pick up Cheri at five o'clock to take her home,' I said. 'But my motor broke down and now the old man's gone out and I can't get in.'

'He didn't say anything to me, Stu,' she said. 'But then again he's not noted for his memory is he?'

'No,' I said. 'He'd forget his head if it weren't screwed on.'

She gave out with a cackle-type laugh.

'Can you lend me your key for a second, Maisy, I'd like to get her back to her mum before it gets too late.'

'Course you can, love.'

'Cheers, Maisy,' I said. 'And if you can tell him when he gets back that I made it after all, I'd be grateful.'

'Ooh, I don't think that I'll be seeing him tonight, love,' she said. 'You know what he gets like on a Friday night, I doubt he'd notice. Anyway, between you and me, if you don't mind me saying so, I'm glad that you're taking the kiddie home, she's not happy here, always crying.'

'Thanks, sweetheart,' I said. 'I'll bung the key back through the letterbox when I've finished, bye now.'

'No, you leave it on the hall table,' she said. 'With the baby gone, I don't need it any more. Take care and give my love to the girls. Bye bye, darling,' she said and went in and shut the door.

I opened the door and me and Si walked in. It stank of 
stale tobacco and booze. I felt terrible. I was shaking like a leaf and the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up. I could feel that shitty bloke all over that shitty house.

'Let's find her and get the fuck out of here,' I said.

We started to check the rooms. She was in the bedroom, in a cot in the corner. We couldn't miss her, she needed changing and the smell was breath-stopping.

'I'll see to her,' said Si. 'I change my uncle's kids all the time when I'm there. You start packing.'

I was grateful to him for that. I didn't want to see what I thought I might, if you know what I mean. He said she was awake, but that she looked frightened. He finished changing her, then he wrapped her in a blanket and hugged her tightly.

I looked around and pulled a big suitcase down from the top of the wardrobe. It was heavy, so I unlocked it and tipped the contents out on to the floor. It was full of magazines, hundreds of magazines and every one of them had pictures of kids being screwed. I felt sick.

'Burn 'em,' said Si.

'No time,' I said. 'Let's just get out of here.'

I threw as many baby things as I could into the suitcase and forced it shut. We started to leave.

'Hang on a minute,' I said and went back to the wardrobe.

'What're you doing now?' asked Si.

'Just watch,' I said as I moved the wardrobe out from the corner and pulled up the carpet. Underneath was a loose floorboard. I lifted it up and took out a biscuit tin. It felt heavy.

'Let's go, Si,' I said as I stuffed the tin under my arm and grabbed the case.

Pete and Den got out and walked down to the pub.

'See you later, guys and don't be late,' they said as they left.

Si got into the back with Cheri as I threw the case into the boot. I jumped into the car and drove off.

Through Crouch End Broadway and up Hornsey Lane to Highgate Hill. I cut a left, down the hill a bit, then turned right into the hospital and stopped.

'Hang on a sec,' I said to Si as I jumped out and ran to the reception desk.

'I've got an urgent message for one of your patients,' I said to the security bloke. 'Could you please give it to the ward sister for her?'

'Sure, son,' he said as he took the envelope from my outstretched hand.

'Cheers, mate,' I said as I turned and zoomed back to the motor. The note said: 'No sweat Toots, Cheri's home and safe. Luv Stu.'

I drove back up the hill and down the other side to the North Circular, followed it all the way round to Hanger Lane, turned right at the roundabout and up into Greenford.

Jen was waiting at the window as we arrived and came rushing out.

'Was it okay?' she asked.

'Fine,' I replied.

She took Cheri from Si and carried her inside, Si and me followed with the case and biscuit tin. Beryl was in the kitchen. She had just finished pouring some boiling water into the teapot.

'I reckon that you can do with one of these darling,' she said.

'Sit yourselves down and I'll get some cups/

'Cheers, Beryl,' I said. 'You're a life saver.'

I introduced her to Si and we sat down.

'How's the kiddie?' she asked.

'I don't know,' I said. 'I haven't had time to even look at her yet.' It was then that I realised that Cheri hadn't made a sound since we'd picked her up.

'Jen?' I said, looking over at her. Cheri was sitting on her lap trying to hide her head in Jen's chest.

'She seems okay,' said Jen. 'Just a bit frightened.'

'Thank Christ,' I said. 'I thought for a minute there that he had . . . that she was . . . well, you know.'

'Yeah, I know,' said Jen hugging Cheri tightly.

'My sister's a district nurse,' said Beryl. 'She only lives up the road. I'll get her to pop in tomorrow and give the kiddie the onceover.' She looked at my face and added, 'Don't worry, darling, she can be trusted.' I smiled at her and nodded.

I opened the suitcase and Beryl started going through the stuff that I had thrown inside.

'We're going to have to get her some more things,' she said. 'Nappies, though I would have thought that she would have been well out of those by now. Clothes, talc, shampoo, you know, bits and bobs.'

'No need to worry about paying for them,' I said, 'I've got enough here.'

'Jesus, that's his tin,' said Jen.

'Yep,' I said. I had opened the tin and it was crammed full of notes.

'You count it,' I said. 'We've got to go.' Si and me said our goodbyes and left.

BOOK: A Kind of Hush
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