Dirty Daddies(59)

But then I see it, in the window. A big coloured glass sculpture thing with flecks of blue and green right through it.

It’s not like the thing the crow smashed, but it’s not too dissimilar. My heart races at the thought I could replace it for him. My stomach is in knots at the thought that I can really make up for what I ruined.

I dash inside and ask the snooty shop assistant how much it is, then gulp as she says it’s eighty-five.

I only have eighty.

My heart breaks.

I step outside defeated, not giving a shit for my boots anymore or the hairbrush I can make do without. I just need a fiver, that’s all. One measly fiver.

Once upon a time I’d have considered stealing it, but not now. Now I only want to take what I earn and nothing more.

I should walk away and get my boots and work out a way of getting it another time, but I can’t. I really can’t.

I want nothing more than to see Jack’s face as I get him another sculpture, Michael’s too as he tries on his tie.

That’s the reason I head into the backstreets to find Eli. That’s why I trek into an area that makes me shiver and knock on his front door.

He’s not happy when he answers. His eyes are dark and angry, beard dishevelled as he yanks me inside by my wrist. He squeezes hard as he pulls me upstairs and this time I don’t fight because I don’t want to explain the bruises.

He throws me into the living room and jabs a finger at me. “You took off!”

“You were being a cunt to me!”

“If I’m so much of a cunt, then why are you fucking back here, you little skank?”

I fold my arms. “I need to borrow a fiver.”

He laughs a mean laugh. “A fucking fiver? Why? You already fucking owe me.”

I owe him for a fucking sandwich and not much else, but I don’t say that.

“I need it for a friend,” I say and he sneers.

“You don’t have any fucking friends.”

“I have friends now,” I say proudly. “Are you gonna give me the fiver or not?”

“Are you gonna fucking bail and ignore me again if I do?”

I shake my head. “I’ll give it back.”

“And the rest?”

There is no rest, not really, but I still want the updates on how everyone is doing and I really want this fiver so I nod. “Yeah, and the rest.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the note and I’m so happy my heart soars. I rush towards him, but he holds it out of reach.

“Kiss first.”

He stinks of weed and I hate it, but the fiver is so close I can smell the happiness more. I brace myself for it and when it comes it’s sloppy and gross and makes me feel sick.

His hand paws my tit through my top and pinches my nipple even though I twist away. I daren’t break off the kiss before he’s ready, because then I’ll never get the fiver, so I hold my breath and let him do it, just like he always does.

“You really wanted that fucking fiver,” he laughs when he’s finally had enough. I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand then snatch the note from his fingers.

And then I’m outta there, as fast as I can before he causes me any more shit.

“You owe me, remember,” he calls down the stairs after me.

“How can I fucking forget,” I yell back and flip him the finger at the bottom.





Jack



“She’ll be here,” I say, “she said she wouldn’t let us down.”

Mike is pacing. Nervous as fuck.

I’d like to say I’m not, but I’m more tightly wound than I’d like, even if I’m hiding it pretty well.

“You gave her a hundred quid, Jack. She could be fucking anywhere right now.”

“She won’t be,” I tell him, even though I’m not entirely sure. “We’re having movie night, she’ll be here.”

“Or be drunk in an alleyway somewhere.”

I sigh. “You’ve got to have some faith in her.”

He flashes me a horrible stare. “I’ve got faith in her, Jack, it’s us I’ve got the issue with. Last night we slap her ass, today she’s taken off.”

“She’s gone shopping, Mike.”

“You don’t know that,” he insists, and he’s right. I don’t.

I hope my gut is making the right call on this one. Not just on Carrie being back in time to spend the evening with us, but on this whole crazy situation we’re involved with. I thought teaching her some discipline was the right call, just as holding her tight in my bed felt the right call.

Paying her for a job well done also seemed the right call.

But there’s a chance I’ve been off the mark with the whole lot of it.

The clock is ticking and she’s not back. Six p.m. and there’s no sign of her, and there isn’t another bus until gone eight.