‘Later.’ Danny put his fist to Milo’s. The toddler bumped his hand against the teenager’s. Tiny against the boy’s paw. Cheryl tried to imagine Milo growing that big.
‘Woof,’ the child said.
‘Later.’ Danny nodded to Cheryl.
‘See ya.’
He went on his way. Vinia came out of the shop, lighting a cigarette. Passed one to Cheryl. She lit up, relishing the kick in her throat, the fuzzy sensation at the back of her neck as the nicotine got to work.
They set off again, Cheryl negotiating the buggy to pass people on the narrow pavement. A couple of guys went past, eyes appraising her, one of them whistled, his mate groaned. Cheryl played dumb. Used to it.
‘We’re going to the park, Milo,’ Cheryl said. ‘To the swings.’ He waved one hand.
Cheryl smiled. A lot of people would slag her off – single mum, teenage pregnancy, living on benefits – but Milo was the best thing that ever happened to her. It didn’t mean she wouldn’t do anything else with her life. Get back into modelling once he was in school. Cheryl did nails at home for a bit of extra cash. She had a flair for it. She could do something in that line, if the modelling didn’t take off. Not just beauty though, make-up for film or TV, or music videos. See her name in the credits.
Vinia worked afternoons at H &M in the Arndale. Minimum wage but a discount on the clothes. Vinia blew most of her money on clothes there. She lived at home still. Everyone Cheryl knew was still at home. Crazy prices for flats and houses, even with the recession. Cheryl didn’t mind living with Nana, it helped with having Milo too, she could leave him if she had to go somewhere or she needed a break. Nana could be a bit preachy but she’d lie down and die for Cheryl.
Vinia was telling her about a jacket she had her eyes on, white denim with beading, when a car came round the corner way too fast, the engine snarling. Cheryl pulled the buggy back sharpish and leaned into the wall, away from the road. The car was a silver BMW. Cheryl knew the car, knew the two guys in it: Sam Millins and Carlton. Carlton was Vinia’s stepbrother. They were both bad news. The car roared past them and took a right at Sid’s.
‘You heard about the Nineteen Crew?’ Vinia asked her, keeping her voice low.
Cheryl shook her head.
‘Fired into Sam’s house last night.’
Cheryl swallowed. ‘Anyone hurt?’
‘Nah. They were lucky, man.’ Vinia shook her head. ‘But everyone’s wanting payback now.’
‘Wankers,’ said Cheryl. Vinia cut her eyes at her, a warning. Vinia had to be careful around Carlton. He was a man with a lot of power. A dangerous man. Twenty-four years old and running the neighbourhood like some feudal prince.