Zak swore, clambered up and out of the window. Slithered down on to the wheelie bin and then righted himself. He didn’t stop to assess any damage but slung the dog food and cider in the shopper and then opened the bolt on the back gate to let himself out.
Bess stopped barking and wagged her tail. He headed back away from the recreation ground, into the estate. He was shaking. Got to get to Midge’s, have a blow, calm down. Wishing this wasn’t happening. It had all been going so well.
He heard the whoop of sirens after a while and increased his pace. By the time they got to Midge’s, Zak was tight as a cat’s arse, heart going like the clappers. He didn’t mention the shooting, didn’t want Midge to know he was there. Word would get round about it all soon enough. Zak didn’t want it in his head. He just bought his stuff. Had a blunt one then and there, shared the cider.
The figurine was smashed to bits but he showed Midge the Xbox and Midge said he might be interested for his nephew. They tried it out but the bastard thing was knackered. He should have known.
That night, back in the derelict house he was dossing in, he couldn’t settle. His skin humming and the ball of dread there again. Echoes bounced in his head: fists and sticks, a locked room, hot delirium. He woke in the early hours with a whimper, spitting and retching. Trying to get rid of the sensation in his mouth: the brittle, bitter flakes, the taste of salt and rubber and soil. His mouth watering and his back aching with each uncontrollable spasm. He tried to tell himself it was just a dream but he knew it was more than that.
He rolled another smoke, extra strong. Felt his skin slacken, everything melt. ‘Something’ll turn up,’ he whispered to Bess. ‘It’ll be all right.’
Cheryl
Vinia was back within the hour. The ambulance had taken Danny to the hospital, his mum and Nadine had gone with him. They’d turned up at the recreation ground, the whole congregation.
‘Your nana’s sitting with Rose. She said to tell you.’
‘Why’d they do it, Vinia?’
‘I don’t know!’ Vinia got all moody, flashing her eyes. ‘And I don’t want to know.’
‘There’s no good reason,’ Cheryl said.
‘It’s not our business,’ Vinia said flatly.
‘He was just a kid.’
‘Leave it.’ Vinia’s face was set.
‘So it’s all right to gossip and go over there all big eyes like some ghoul but we don’t ask why?’
‘Not unless you got a death wish.’
Cheryl shook her head.
‘What,’ Vinia demanded. ‘You judging me?’
‘No. But Carlton-’
‘Shh!’ Vinia hissed. ‘Don’t mess with it.’