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Authors: Mandasue Heller

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The Front (25 page)

BOOK: The Front
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‘Bugger the patients,’ Eddie said. ‘I need a bit of tender loving care myself!’ Spotting three nurses chatting at the end of the bar, he nudged Paul, motioning towards them with his head. ‘Mine’s the blonde. Come on!’

       
Paul followed as Eddie pushed a path through the heaving bodies to the nurses. The blonde Eddie had earmarked was gorgeous, the other two plainer – one particularly so. As tall as both Paul and Eddie – and wider than either – she had a large, flat face and dull, dark blonde hair. Her warm, sparkly-eyed smile took Paul totally by surprise.

       
‘Hi,’ she said, holding out her hand. ‘I’m Jane.’

       
‘Er – Paul,’ he said, shaking her hand. ‘And that’s Eddie.’ He gestured towards his colleague who was busy chatting up the blonde.

       
Eddie turned and nodded hello, pulling an almost imperceptible face when he spotted Jane. Paul squirmed, embarrassed by his bad manners, but Jane didn’t seem to notice – or, if she did, she didn’t let it show.

       
‘This is Vanda,’ she said, introducing Paul to the other nurse. ‘And the one whose bottom seems to fit your friend’s hand so perfectly—’ she nodded towards Eddie, who was indeed fondling the blonde’s backside ‘—is Asia.’

       
Paul raised a brow. ‘Asia? That’s unusual.’

       
‘Unusual girl,’ Jane whispered with a giggle. Leaning closer she added: ‘As your friend is sure to find out if he carries on.’

       
Paul looked at her quizzically. She laughed, then cupped her hand around his ear to whisper something. Almost choking, he shot a look at Eddie and wondered if he should warn him. Then he decided not to.
Let the lecherous sod find out the hard way
, he thought.

       
When Eddie went off to dance with his conquest, Paul didn’t mind because he was having a good time with Jane and Vanda. It was almost an hour before they spotted an empty table. Paul sent them to grab it while he bought a round.

       
‘So,’ Jane said when they were seated. ‘You’re a copper, are you?’

       
‘Yeah, that’s right. This is my second year.’

       
‘Ah, a baby,’ Vanda said. ‘Thought you were too polite to have been at it long.’

       
‘Where are you stationed?’ Jane asked.

       
‘Moss Side,’ he told her.

       
‘Oh, we get a lot of your lads in,’ she said. ‘They’re regulars down at Cas, aren’t they, Van?’

       
‘Yeah.’ Vanda nodded. ‘Never a night goes by without one of your lot bringing someone in in handcuffs. It makes it very difficult to treat them, you know.’

       
‘Mmmm,’ Jane added thoughtfully. ‘And they’re always so beat up. Makes you wonder what goes on in the back of the police vans!’

       
‘It’s not us!’ Paul protested. ‘Honest!’

       
Jane laughed. ‘Don’t worry, we’re just teasing.’

       
‘If you want my opinion,’ Vanda said, ‘I reckon some of them could do with a good kicking. Like that one you had in last night, cheeky sod!’

       
‘I know!’ Jane squealed. ‘I couldn’t believe it!’

       
‘I’d have chopped his bloody hands off,’ Vanda said.

       
‘What’s this?’ Paul asked, intrigued.

       
‘Oh, just this bloke who came into Casualty last night,’ Vanda said. ‘I’ll let Jane tell you.’

       
Jane’s eyes sparkled as she told the story, and Paul couldn’t help but smile.

       
‘. . . And the next thing I knew,’ she said, coming to the end, ‘he had his hand up my bloody skirt! Well, I just couldn’t believe it!’

       
Paul was grinning now. ‘What did you do?’

       
‘I bloody well lamped him one!’ she said, bristling with self-righteous indignation. ‘And if it hadn’t been for the doctor walking in, I’d have ripped his fucking head off! Oops!’ She threw a hand across her mouth. ‘Pardon my French!’

       
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Paul laughed. ‘Good to know you’re human.’

       
‘Gee, thanks!’ she said, mock-offended. ‘And just what did you think I was? Robot? Animal?’

       
‘Oh, God! I’m sorry!’ he spluttered. ‘I didn’t mean that!’

       
Jane laughed good-naturedly. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

       
‘So was he with one of ours, then?’ Paul asked, covering his embarrassment behind his glass.

       
Jane took a drink and slammed her glass down. ‘No, but he bloody should have been! Handcuffs were invented for creeps like him – people who can’t keep their hands to themselves. I’m so glad I’m on earlies now. The creeps don’t like the daylight.’

       
‘What was he in for again?’ Vanda asked. ‘Didn’t you say he’d been shot?’

       
Paul’s ears pricked up, a tingle of anticipation bristling the hairs on his neck. ‘Pardon? Did you say shot?’

       
‘Well, no,’ Jane said. ‘Not exactly. He’d smashed his head open, which needed quite a lot of stitching, and he’d cut his arm.’ She motioned with her hand across her bicep. ‘It wasn’t too bad, as it turned out, but when I first looked at it, I don’t know why, I just thought it looked like a bullet wound.’

       
‘What made you think that?’ Paul pressed.

       
She shrugged. ‘Because it was a perfect line, I suppose. Like something had gone across it really fast and burned it.’

       
‘So what was it?’ Paul asked.

       
‘He slipped climbing the fence at Alex Park,’ she told him, rolling her eyes. ‘You know the railings there? The big metal spiked ones? Well, he slipped on them and caught his arm on one of the spikes, and when he fell, he smashed his head.’

       
‘Oh, I see,’ Paul felt deflated. ‘Still . . . while we’re on the subject of shooting injuries, you didn’t happen to get any in last night, did you?’

       
Jane shook her head. ‘Not that I know of. Sorry.’

       
Eddie came over to the table then, his beaming face red and sweaty. He picked up the pint Paul had bought him and took a long swallow before slamming it back down.

       
‘Having a good time with Asia?’ Jane asked innocently.

       
‘Wonderful!’ he announced. He patted Paul on the shoulder then, winking as he said, ‘Don’t mind if I abandon you, do you?’

       
‘Not in the slightest,’ Paul smirked, wincing as Jane and Vanda kicked him under the table. ‘I’ll see myself home. Have fun!’

       
‘Oh, I aim to!’ said Eddie.

 

14

It was ten-thirty. Only a few hours since they’d left the hospital for their celebration party, but the events of the night before, added to the mixture of drugs they’d indulged in since arriving back at the flat, were beginning to take their toll.

       
Mal had got them all so coked up in the first hour back that Sam had eventually begged for something to bring him down. Now they were all zonked on the temazepam Lee and Elaine had managed to score from the junkie with the dogs on the floor above.

       
Ged was sleeping – naturally, having neither wanted the coke nor needed the temazepam.

       
Elaine – quiet, at last – was huddled on the couch with Lee, who had a possessive arm around her as they watched yet another of the videos he’d persuaded Sam to drive over to his flat for.

       
Mal and Sam were playing cards on the coffee table, with the entire contents of Suzie’s copper jar spread before them as betting money.

       
Suzie herself was curled up on Mal’s chair – fed up to the back teeth that Elaine was still here and seemed to have no intention of ever going home again. Suzie was also more than a little pissed off that she hadn’t been offered any of the coke. Not that she would have taken it if she had been – it was the principle of the thing. Elaine was not only offered the stuff but actively encouraged to have some. It wasn’t fair.

       
She was just wondering if anyone would notice if she slipped off to bed when Sam threw his cards down with a loud slap.

       
‘Well, that’s me!’ he declared. ‘I’m whacked. I’m off home.’

       
‘Aw, not yet!’ Mal said. Gathering the cards together, he shuffled them and started to redeal.

       
‘I’ve got to,’ Sam insisted, struggling to his feet. ‘Have you seen the time? Louise has been on her own with the kids since last night. She must be going spare.’

       
‘She’ll be all right,’ Mal said. ‘Just give her another ring.’

       
‘No, I can’t.’ Sam was adamant. ‘Wendy’s gonna flip as it is.’

       
‘Fuck Wendy!’ Mal snapped, annoyed that he wasn’t getting his own way.

       
‘Oh, yes, please!’ Lee piped up, wincing as Elaine dug him in the ribs with her elbow.

       
Sam patted his pockets for his keys, then tapped Ged on the shoulder. ‘I’m off, Ged. Do you want a lift?’

       
Ged stretched and bounced to his feet. ‘Yeah. Thanks, mate.’

       
‘Not got your car?’ Lee asked.

       
‘Nah.’ Ged shook his head. ‘It’s not taxed or MOT’d so I don’t drive it unless I have to.’

       
‘It’s a heap of shit anyway,’ Lee went on with a smirk. ‘My Mark II creams it!’

       
‘The Mark I’s got a better engine,’ Ged retorted smoothly.

       
‘Can we go?’ Sam asked impatiently. ‘I’m knackered.’

       
‘Yeah, sorry,’ Ged said, frowning at himself for getting into Lee’s game of one-up.

       
‘Think I’ll go to bed as well,’ Suzie said, getting up stiffly.

       
‘Night, sweetheart,’ Ged said, smiling as he followed Sam to the door.

       
‘Yeah, night, Suzie,’ Sam called, waving back at her. ‘Night everyone.’

       
‘Night-night, John-Boy and Jim-Bob!’ Elaine yelled after them. ‘Night, Grandma!’ she added, looking pointedly at Suzie.

       
Ignoring her, Suzie went to bed.

 

Ged and Sam began to come alive in the cold night air as they lumbered down the stairwell a minute later. As they rounded the corner and stepped into the tunnel, a man turned in from the road end. They carried on walking, paying him no heed as he came towards them. He was big, but Ged was bigger, and Sam was glad to his heart to have him there. He was still paranoid about bumping into the City Road Posse, but with Ged to back him up he knew he’d stand a chance of escaping unhurt – unless they pulled a gun.

       
Max passed the two men, then turned back and called out to them. ‘Yo!’

       
Turning, Ged jerked his chin up suspiciously. ‘Yeah?’

       
‘You live here?’ Max asked.

       
‘No, just visiting,’ Ged said. ‘Why? What’s up?’

       
‘I’m looking for someone called Melly,’ Max told him. ‘Millie, or Melly. Something like that. Know him?’

       
Ged and Sam looked at each other and shrugged. ‘Nah, sorry, mate.’

       
‘Right, thanks.’

       
Max turned and headed for the stretch of grass as Ged and Sam carried on walking down the tunnel.

       
‘Hang about,’ Sam said as they came to the road end. ‘There is a bloke called Millie. Smack dealer – lives on William Kent.’

       
‘Oh, yeah,’ Ged said. ‘Milton something-or-other. Little fella?’

       
‘That’s the one. Should we tell him?’ Sam nodded towards Max who was standing on the grass, looking up at the flats.

       
Ged considered it, then shook his head. ‘Nah. I want to get home. Come on.’

       
They got into the car and Sam reversed out. Driving past the tunnel they both looked to see if the man had gone. He was still there. Sam stopped the car and wound his window down.

       
‘What are you doing?’ Ged asked.

       
Sam wrinkled his nose sheepishly. ‘Let’s put him out of his misery, eh?’

       
Ged laughed. ‘You’re a right soft git, sometimes. Go on, then.’

       
‘Yo, mate!’ Sam called.

       
Max turned and peered at them down the tunnel. Sam waved him over.

       
‘This bloke you’re looking for,’ he said when Max reached them.

       
‘Yeah?’ Max leaned down with his hands on his knees. ‘You know him?’

       
‘I know someone called Millie,’ Sam said. ‘Lives on the third floor of that block over there.’ He pointed back through the tunnel.

       
‘What number?’

       
‘Sorry, I don’t know that,’ Sam said. ‘But someone over there will. It’s on the third floor, anyway. Just ask when you get there.’

       
‘Respect!’ Max put his fist into the car, touching it to both of theirs. ‘I owe you one!’

       
‘No problem.’ Sam grinned and, waving, pulled away. ‘Nice guy,’ he commented.

       
Ged shook his head with a smile. ‘Mr Bleeding Heart!’

 

Fuelled by a sudden rush of adrenalin, Max hurried across the grass towards William Kent Crescent. At least Stevo had given him the right name – just the wrong block. All he had to do was find out which flat it was, and this whole mess would be sorted.

BOOK: The Front
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