I looked at Sophie and she looked nervous as she stared at me. I didn’t know where to put myself, didn’t know what to think, what to feel.
“Don’t you like it?” Soph asked. “Have we got the wrong stuff?”
“Got the right stuff,” I said. “It’s fucking mint, like.”
Her eyes searched mine. “What is it, then?”
I was pissing on their parade and I knew it, but I couldn’t help it. “Can’t take this,” I said. “It’s too much.”
“Hey,” Raven said. “Listen up, baby. It’s a gift. Don’t make a pity party out of it. Doesn’t suit you.”
I tried to smile. “Ain’t making a pity party, just can’t fucking take all this shit. Can’t pay it back.”
She took my arm, so hard it fucking pinched. “Look at me,” she said. “This isn’t a loan. It’s not charity, either. It’s a gift, from people who believe in you. From people who give a shit about you and your art, alright? We cool on this?”
I nodded, but my throat felt weird, all thick and swollen. My head was spinning, tears springing up like a fucking pussy boy. I turned away, coughed them back. “Fucking hell,” I said. “Dunno what to fucking say.”
“Thanks is the standard response,” Sophie said. Her smile was so pretty. She was so pretty, prettiest thing in the world.
“Ain’t much good with thanks,” I smiled. “Thanks, though, this is crazy mint. Crazy.”
“Don’t mean to pile the pressure on,” Raven said. “But I’ve got someone waiting to see your art. A dealer, same one who launched me.”
My brain whizzed like a spinning top. “A dealer?! They ain’t gonna like my shit, Raven. Ain’t nothing like as good as yours. Shit, man, they’re gonna laugh me out the fucking park.”
Her smile was like the sun, eyes twinkling again.
“He’s already seen your shit, baby,” she said. “The paint is from him.”
***
I painted and I painted and I painted some more. Lost in time, in space, lost to everything but the colours on the canvas. It was bliss in that place, with Casey at my side and Sophie in my life. It don’t get any fucking sweeter than that.
Case liked it down there, garage door open, catching the sun. When it’d rain she’d come inside, curl up at my feet and snooze without a care in the world.
She’d taken to sleeping on the bed at night, too. Dog didn’t know herself these days. She was still trashing the bins, mind. Tearing the kitchen apart every time we weren’t looking. Soph didn’t seem to care, though, didn’t seem to care about anything apart from getting her ass slapped red and getting a good pounding. Guess that’s what she liked best about me, that’s what I figured. Sure weren’t me talking skills, but I was getting better at that. I was tryin’.
I’d been at Soph’s nearly two weeks when I decided to get some of my shit from Vick’s. I’d been avoiding her, hiding my bruises where she wouldn’t see. She’d only feel bad, and I didn’t want that. They’d taken an age to go, especially the swelling on my eye. My ribs still hurt, but she wouldn’t know that, not now my face didn’t give it away.
Vicki was stood with her back to me in her yard, puffing on a cig. My heart fucking jumped a good’un, thinking it was that Lozza Price from down the garages, with that same bloody hair again. It weren’t, though, it was Vick, hairhacked into a messy blonde bob. It was more yellow than blonde in the sunlight, a bit like a canary. Didn’t like it much. Smiled anyway.
“Look different.”
She spun around at the sound of my voice, smiling bright. “Like it? Fancied a change. Where the hell you been, Cal? Slay’s been missing ya.”
“Around,” I said. “Busy, like.”
“Deliveries?”
I flushed with guilt. I’d been slack on deliveries, too busy painting. Needed to go and see Jack Willis before he forgot my rounds, but I didn’t want to freak Vicki out. “Yeah, working.”
“I heard they beat you up,” she said. “Got you good, didn’t they? That’s why you been staying away. I know you, Callum Jackson. I ain’t a fool, know you didn’t want me to see.”
“Been around, Vick, just been busy.”
“Rumours been flying all around the estate, Cal. Heard you were kissing that estate manager down by Al’s. That true?”
“You sure know a lot, don’t ya? Dunno where you get it all from.”
She held up her mobile. “Facebook.”
I fucking hated that shit and she knew it. “Me getting beat up’s all over the internet is it? Un-fucking-likely, Vick. Ain’t nobody knew about that.” Her colour drained, and that’s when I knew. “He’s been round, ain’t he? Jones? You’d better have called the fucking pigs.”