who was chattering behind him like a machine gun.
‘Kindness of me bleedin’ heart and all I’ve got from it … Ow! What’s that for, Johnny? Get orf me bleedin’ arm.’
‘Shut the frig up with your chatter before me head gets wrecked. You and I both know how much money I gave you and Nicky. Coming in here makes me think I’ve walked in on a scene from Slumdog bleeding Millionaire. It’s disgusting.’
‘Charming I’m sure.’
Johnny pushed Gina against the wall with his forearm, so tempted but resisting the urge to hit her; not wanting to raise a hand to a woman even though the woman was Gina Daniels.
‘Do not take the piss. You need to tell me what’s been going on.’
Johnny stared with fury at Gina, who decided perhaps now might be a good time to start talking.
Nicky was twitching. He’d just taken a hit of the pipe and now he needed a bit of smack to help him come down properly from his high, rather than him clucking away in mid-air. Since Gina had spoken to him he’d been worried, so he’d done what he did best when things got too much or things got too painful; he got high.
He couldn’t get Gary off his back easily, but the one person he could try to appease was Gina. He knew he needed to stop her talking but so far that was as far as his plan had got.
Gina’s front door was ajar and Nicky pushed it open and quietly closed it behind him. He could hear the television on and as he walked into the front room he smiled at the sight of his niece asleep, her corkscrew blonde curls tousled all over her face.
Hearing voices coming from the bedroom, Nicky was about to walk in when he froze, recognising them. It was Johnny Taylor and worse still, Gina, opening her big trap; telling Johnny everything. Everything apart from how much she was in on it all.
‘… I couldn’t believe you’d only give a hundred a week to look after your daughter but Nicky swore blind that’s all you gave. Me being me didn’t want to turf the poor mite out onto the street. Poor creature ain’t got anyone else. That’s my trouble, I got too big a heart for my own good. My mother always said that. She said, Gina, people will take advantage of your good nature. I’m shocked, Johnny, I really am. I never thought Nicky would steal from his own, especially when the poor mite’s mum was in prison, and with all the secrets surrounding her. That alone would be worth more than a ton wouldn’t you say?’
Johnny glared at Gina. She was a sly cow and he didn’t believe a word she said about not being any part of it. But at least he knew some of the picture.
‘Don’t push it darlin’, I ain’t a muppet. The way I see it you owe me, ’cos I don’t buy that you weren’t in on it. I’ll deal with Nicky later, but I want to tell you how it’s going to work from now on.’
Nicky backed away. It couldn’t have got any worse if he tried. It didn’t take a maths degree to know there wouldn’t be any money coming his way now. The only thing which was coming was more trouble. This time in the shape of Johnny. Nicky owed everyone big time, he knew that. What he also knew was that even though he owed money his priorities would still lie in his habit – his habit would come first, whether he or anyone else liked it.
Maggie opened the curtains in Nicky’s room and sighed, wondering what Harley was doing, wondering if she was okay. She was looking forward to seeing her later on. Her thoughts never strayed for long from her daughter; from her smile, from her laughter, from her whole being. Harley was everything to Maggie.
Maggie looked around the room. It wasn’t so much of a mess as a disaster. The brown wooden flooring was hardly visible under the mounds of dirty clothes, all stained from vomit and spotted with blood. The furniture tops were covered in empty cans of Pepsi and beer.
Maggie noticed some of them had been cut in half with a hole pierced into them; a sign her brother had been smoking crack. There was a stale smell hanging in the air, partly from the lack of fresh air, partly from tobacco but mainly from whatever drugs her brother had been smoking. She looked up to the ceiling and saw it was stained brown from the nicotine.
Maggie attempted to open the window but it was jammed shut from the dried paint. She doubted it’d been opened since her father had brought round a couple of his mates to repaint the house a few years ago.
Giving up with the window, Maggie looked at the bed. Lying with the cover over his head was Nicky, his black-soled feet visible.
‘Nicky, we need to talk.’
Nicky didn’t stir. Maggie called her brother’s name again, slightly louder which gave way to a small groan and a slight movement, before he turned over to lie motionless once more.
Dragging the cover off him and a stray packet of Rizlas along with it, Maggie exposed her brother – who was still wearing his t-shirt from two days ago – to the chill of the summer’s morning.
Nicky sat up quickly with a look of terror on his face, thinking his father had come into the room. Seeing his fear, Maggie’s heart sank. The anger which she was ready to fire out machine gun style fell away.
‘Fucking hell Mags, I thought …’
Nicky didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t have to.
‘I know, Nick. Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a fright.’
Maggie gave a sad smile, taking in her brother’s gaunt appearance. His nails were ingrained with dirt, as was the skin around his eyes and mouth, making him look like he’d been working down the mines rather than living in the heart of Soho. His blue eyes, once sparkling, looked dull and lifeless. His skin had a faint circular rash on it, another sign of Nicky’s chronic drug addiction.
Nicky started to cough and reached over to grab the small ashtray which was already overflowing with roach ends. He spat the contents of what was in his mouth in it. Maggie flinched, turning her head quickly, not wanting to feel nauseous.
‘Nicky, what’s been going on? I know you’ve been avoiding me since I’ve come out. Are you in trouble?’
‘I’ve just been busy, Maggie.’
‘Don’t lie to me Nicky, not you.’
Maggie stopped and looked at her brother, not wanting to admit how much him letting her down had hurt her.
‘Things started to get out of hand, Mags.’
‘What things, Nick? What could be as important as looking after your niece?’
‘We did look after her.’
Maggie shook her head sadly.
‘No Nick, no you didn’t. She looked a mess.’
Nicky shrugged his shoulders as he lit up a cigarette.
‘Kids are expensive. Johnny didn’t give us much money to look after her so we had to do our best.’
‘Was
