yawned and rubbed his eyes. He got up to open the window to get rid of the smoke and the stench of weed. ‘Gimme a chance, kids. I’ve only just woke up. Go get dressed and get your brother up. We’ll go down to Nan’s and get some brekkie, okay?’
‘Yay, Nanny’s! Nanny, Nanny, Nanny’s!’ sang the girls as they ran back upstairs.
Vinnie glanced around him at the filthy, stinking living room. His sister and the idiot must have somehow got themselves to bed because there was no sign of them now. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge and the grease-coated food cupboard, just to check if there was any food in. Not that he held out much hope. Lyndsey went shoplifting at the Co-op every other day, but yesterday she had been in too much of a state. Which was a shame. Least when she went lifting she brought back proper good stuff. ‘Only the best for my kids!’ she would say as she brought out packs of bacon and joints of meat from up her skirt. Vinnie knew she would fill up her knickers with stuff too, but he didn’t like to dwell on it – not if he was going to be sharing the spoils, anyway.
It was only eight o’clock but the kids were chomping at the bit to get out of the shit-hole. But Vinnie knew his mam and dad wouldn’t be up yet and, given what had gone down with Saggy Tits Sally, he was reluctant to wake them this early. He decided to walk about with the kids for half an hour first, and then hopefully his little sister would be up for school, at least. Little Josie, or ‘Titch’, as she was known to almost everybody, was alright. She was only 10, but she adored her big brother and would try to kick the shit out of anybody who called him ginger nut, no matter how big they were.
The kids dressed and ready, they headed straight out. There was no point in saying goodbye to his sister and the idiot. They’d be comatose for hours yet, knowing he was there to see to the kids. Which would have to change, he thought, feeling a sudden pang of nerves. And fear – fear of being so far away from everyone and everything he knew. He had to stop that in its tracks. Snuff it out.
He vaulted the fence into the next door back garden, heading back the same way as he’d come the night before. It was the route he always used to get from Lyndsey’s house to home and back. Same as everyone. Everyone fit enough to jump fences and crawl through holes, anyway. It was their private route around the place and he didn’t know any different way to travel. Much less why. He thought seriously about this as he lifted the kids over Mrs Elliot’s fence. Probably to make it easier running from the pigs, he decided. But he wasn’t alone in Mrs Elliot’s garden. As he lifted over little Robbie, he was immediately attacked by a huge, angry black-and-white cat. Which clearly had no truck with what he’d been up to either. It wasted no time in scratching him, badly.
‘Fuck!’ he yelled, bringing a hand up to his stinging cheek. He was bleeding. Proper bleeding. The little shit. With the kids laughing hysterically, he leapt around the garden then, trying to catch the mangy moggy who’d taken him on.
At last he managed to grab it and held it in a headlock with one arm, clamping its body under his arm, safely out of scratching distance. It squirmed and spat, but he held on tight. It was going nowhere. It had to pay for what it did.
‘Robbie, quick,’ he said to his nephew, ‘find me some rope or string or summat!’
The kids stared at Vinnie, puzzled. ‘Why?’ Sammy and Lou wanted to know.
‘Hurry up,’ he said. ‘If I let it go it will attack us all, won’t it!’
Robbie, Lou and Sammy dutifully scoured the back garden, ignoring the syringes and old car tyres and crap. Eventually, four-year-old Lou held up a length of aerial cable. ‘Uncle Vinnie, look!’ she said proudly.
‘Ssssh!’ he said, conscious that Mrs Elliot might hear them. ‘C’mon,’ he gestured, ‘Good girl, Lou … fetch it over!’
They all watched mesmerised as Vinnie fought the now writhing cat, to get the cable around its front legs. It was hissing and putting up a valiant fight, but was no match for its human tormentor. Grabbing Mrs Elliot’s washing line, he flipped the end of the cable over it a couple of times, letting the cat fall – the cable straining now – strung up by its front legs.
He turned to the little ones, who were looking up at him, wide-eyed with shock. ‘See, this cat’s not really a cat, kids,’ he explained, tying the cable off. ‘It’s a piece of wet washing.’ He pointed to the terrified animal. ‘And it can stay the fuck there all day now, till it dries.’
‘It’s just a big old kitty, Uncle Vinnie,’ said Sammy nervously, not at all convinced.
Vinnie smiled softly and bent down to tickle beneath his niece’s chin. He felt better now he could see the shock and awe in the children’s eyes. ‘No, Sam. It just looks like a kitty, but it’s not really. Now, we off to Nan’s for brekkie or are we not?’
‘Are you just going to leave it there?’ Lou wanted to know. ‘Like, till it dies?’
‘What do you think?’ Vinnie asked her. ‘C’mon – quick. We gotta go!’ He hauled the kids over the next fence and told them to head straight beneath the hedge opposite. ‘Go on,’ he said. ‘Quick. I think I can hear her!’
Then once he’d seen them all go through and knew he was safely out of sight, he quicky unlooped the cable and let the cat go, booting it up the backside as it skittered away. ‘Last time you’ll go for me, you big fat fucker,’ he hissed at it. ‘Next time you won’t be so fucking lucky!’
The job done, he vaulted the fence and plunged after the younger children, pleased with having seized upon an excellent opportunity for self-promotion, proud of a good job well executed. Some things needed seeing and some things definitely didn’t. Children talked. Children blabbed. Children told tales that made reputations. And he knew what it was that he wanted them blabbing. What they said about Vinnie mattered. Especially now.
Little Josie was sitting on her dad’s knee, eating her cereal, watching her mother move restlessly around the kitchen. She knew her mum was upset because she was trying so hard not to look it – turning up the radio till it was much too loud for comfort, and singing raggedly along to the song on it. ‘Sweets for my sweet,’ she sang. ‘Sugar for my honey …’
She always sang along to that one if it came on, but her voice wasn’t quite right today. ‘Are you alright, Mam?’ she ventured.
‘Course she’s alright, Titch,’ said Jock. ‘Eat your cornflakes.’ His eyes followed June as she walked to the hallway at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Where you going now?’ he asked her. ‘Just leave him alone, he’ll be down when he’s ready.’
June spun around. ‘He’s been ready all fucking morning!’ she spat back at him. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I’m bringing our fucking son down here, instead of leaving him up there to stew on his own!’
Josie started to cry – she couldn’t stop herself – and climbed down from her dad’s knee, placing her now unwanted cereal onto the floor. Why did they have to argue today? She sat on the hearth of the fireplace, pulled her nightie over her knees and sobbed. What was she supposed to do without her brother? Left here with these two – what a bleedin’ nightmare!
No one understood how much she loved Vinnie – if they did, they wouldn’t carry on like this all the time. Her dad started
