The Bombs That Brought Us Together (21 page)

‘OK,’ I said.

Thud number two arrived as I was on the way up.

Whack!

A swift dink to the right eye. A sly cowardly jab. Not fair. The pain shot to the back of my throat. My teeth hurt with that punch. I crouched, covered my head and tensed my torso in preparation for a real hammering.

‘You smile now, eh,’ she said.

Tears filled my eyes, anger tears and anger shaking too. Not once did The Big Man lay his hands on me, not once.

‘Get up, you dog.’ She said something in Old Country lingo to the other two. They grabbed me and yanked me to my feet. ‘ID.’

‘I forgot to bring it with me, sorry,’ I said, not knowing if I should hold my stomach or my eye.

‘You forget?’

‘I forgot.’

Her eyes widened, her head nodded, a small grin appeared. ‘You have brain inside here?’ she said, slapping me on the side of the head with her open hand. ENOUGH!

‘Ouch.’ How could this be the spawn of Mr and Mrs Duda? These were the precise acts they hated. And now their very own daughter – Captain Duda – was dishing it out with chocolate on top.

Again I put myself into the protective ball position, convinced the rain was about to start, that I was going to be
carved a new a-hole right there on the hill. And why? Because of Erin F.

‘Stand direct up,’ Pav’s sister said.

‘I’m afraid to,’ I said from the position I was in.

Laughing and lingo chat.

‘Afraid why?’

‘To be hit again.’

‘You think we are animals? Do you?’ she screamed in my lug, making this animal jump.

‘No.’

Yes, I do actually.
Keep those thoughts hidden.

‘Well, stand direct up like human being,’ she said.

I did what she asked.

My eye throbbed.

‘Name?’ she asked.

‘Charlie Law.’

‘It’s Little Town name?’

‘I think so.’

‘Charlie is stupid name.’

I didn’t reply, unsure if it was a question or an opinion.

‘Where you go?’ Captain Duda asked.

‘I was going to my girl– … my friend’s house over there,’ I said, pointing over the hill. They all looked.

‘Where you live?’ she asked. I pointed back down the hill, towards the park.

‘Over there.’

‘You walk all way?’

‘Yes.’

‘You know this a danger place?’ she said. ‘Many troubles here?’

‘No. I mean, yes. Yes, I knew it was a dangerous place,’ I said.

‘It danger place. OK?’

‘OK.’

Captain Duda said something to the lads. They smirked.

‘You very stupid boy,’ she said before laying her hands on me for a fourth time. ‘I think nothing happen in there, Charlie Law.’ She tapped her finger against my temple. Not sore but very BIG GIANT SWEAR WORD annoying. My first experience of seething.

‘What is friend’s name?’ she asked.

Thank God I wasn’t going to see Pav. Thank God Pav wasn’t with me. Talk about awkward moments in life.

‘I ask not two times, Charlie Law,’ she said. ‘What is friend’s name?’

Was that not two times?

‘Erin F,’ I said. ‘My friend is called Erin F.’

More talking in their own lingo, followed by roars of laughter.

Old Country Bastards.

That was the first time that phrase rose from my toes and exploded in my head. That was the moment I saw these
people in the same way as many others did: that they were nothing more than Old Country Bastards. Not a nice thought. I didn’t want to be like everyone else; I wanted Charlie Law to be different. A thinker. A nice guy. A fighter of wrongs.

It’s OK to think this way. Don’t sweat it, man.

‘What?’ I said, severely agitated. ‘What are you laughing at?’

Pav’s sister, Captain Duda, stepped closer. At my face. She thrust a hand on to my mouth and held it tightly; her nails dug into my cheeks.

‘You don’t speak in that fook voice to me, OK?’

‘OK, yes.’

‘Little Town have no respect. You are pigs.’

She released the hand.

‘Where are parents?’

‘At home.’

‘They allow you to walk streets at this time?’

‘They don’t –’

‘Like the rabies dog? They allow, do they?’

‘They don’t know I’m here.’

‘Typical Little Town, no control.’

Further Old Country lingo talking; obviously deciding what to do with me. Decisions. Decisions:

Leave me be with a kindly pat on the dome and a
Sorry for the misunderstanding
?

Send me on my merry way?

Tell me to hop in and they’d make sure I got home safe and sound?

Take me into a dark cell and batter the living crap out of me?

Hand me over to those troops who enjoy a bit of torturing on the side?

What a dilemma.

‘Can I go?’ I asked.

‘Yes. You go. But I will watch for you, Charlie Law. If I see again I will not be so nice,’ she said.

Thanks.

‘Can I go this way?’ I pointed in the direction of where I was going. To Erin F’s. I even made my way to go.

‘No,’ the Throat Crusher said, putting his hand up to obstruct me.

‘No?’

‘You go that way,’ Pav’s sister said, pointing to where I’d come from. ‘You fook off to home. Now!’

‘But …’ Her hand cupped my new shirt’s collar and shoved me back down the hill. She was as strong as an ox; must be something in the Duda water. I took three steps before I stumbled and fell. Sniggering from the troops. I always considered myself to be a pretty patient teenager but this was some massive test.

‘You get Little Town ass to home,’ Captain Duda shouted.

I was going to ask for a ride to my block, but before I could
get
Sorry to bother you but I couldn’t possibly
… out of my mouth, they had jumped into the truck and were motoring off down the hill. I watched them drive up the main street, past the deserted shops, hang a right at The Big Tree and disappear into the night. Ready to pull some other poor sod up for doing nothing. Ready to play the world’s bully.

I walked with pace, hands in pockets, head bowed, making no eye contact with anyone, which was easy as there wasn’t a sinner around. The air smelt toxic. As did my temperament. I could feel my eye swell.

MENTAL MEMO
: WHATEVER YOU DO, DON’T TELL PAV YOU HAD AN ENCOUNTER WITH HIS SISTER.

When I got home Mum went ballistic. About staying out, my eye, my shirt, how worried sick she and Dad were. Although, to me, Dad didn’t seem to be worried or sick.

‘All boys need a black eye now and again; it’s a rite of passage, Maggie,’ Dad said from behind his paper.

‘Who did it? Tell me who did it?’ Mum shouted in my face. ‘Was it one of them?’ When she said
them
her head nodded towards our front door, aimed directly at Pav’s.

‘I told you, I slipped in the shed and banged it against the table.’ I couldn’t exactly tell her that the Dudas’ secret daughter landed a cracker on me, could I? That would be suicide for our friendship.

‘Slipped in the shed, my eye!’ Mum turned to Dad. ‘What do you think, Bert?’

Dad ruffled his paper.

‘He must think we’re a couple of eejits, Maggie, that’s what I’d say.’

‘I don’t,’ I said.

‘You’d better not or you’ll get another black eye to match,’ Mum said.

Dad’s paper shuddered. I didn’t know if he was laughing at the content within it or what Mum had said. Sometimes Dad just laughed at Mum for no reason.

Mum went on about how money doesn’t grow on trees and that I wouldn’t be getting any new things for a very long time because I had no respect for money or clothes.

‘Go, get up them stairs out of my sight.’ Mum puffed at her inhaler as I dutifully got out of her sight.

I didn’t think fourteen-year-olds got sent to bed. Guess I was wrong. At least I could keep the light on, unlike when I was younger. I could still read and write. Worry about Erin F.

Lying on my bed, I thought about Pav and found myself getting angry with him. Blaming him for my swollen eye and the dullness in my stomach. I didn’t want to see his Old Country face.
Thank god Max and Bones done him like a kipper
. I thought about The Big Man’s pending visit and the steel in the shed. I thought about the troops and Captain Duda. How could she and Pav be related? How?

And I thought about Erin F. Oh, Erin F, what will I say
to you at school? How will I explain my swollen eye? My broken heart? My dented ego? It was all for her. All the pain and anger, it was all for her. And even though my heart was broken, I knew it would still go on thumping. She deserved it.

I didn’t go to school on the Tuesday; Mum allowed me time to recuperate. I laid it on thick for her. I spent most of the day in the shed, reading. Doing nothing.

Late afternoon The Big Man came to see me. He walked straight in. No knock. No hello. No
Can I come in, please
? No manners. Barging in bold as brass.

He took time out to look around. Normally when I saw him, nervousness kicked in. Not so much this time; he was flying solo, no big thick-necked henchmen to flank him or run his errands. I don’t think the shed could’ve taken three massive bruisers in any case.

He sat down, puffed his cheeks out as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders and grinned warmly. His voice was softer. When he spoke, some nice things came
out of his mouth. For the first time I felt calm in his company, not like we were mates calm, but I didn’t feel that I was going to be buried six feet under in a shallow grave or have a skanky old rag shoved in my gub and set alight. I felt safe.

‘Happened your eye?’ he said.

‘Fell.’

‘Best be careful.’

‘I will.’

‘Here,’ he said, throwing a small brown bag at me. ‘For your mum.’

‘Thanks.’ I didn’t need to peek inside. I could feel the inhaler.

‘Place looks good, Charlie,’ The Big Man said.

‘Thanks.’

‘I mean, for an old shitty shed, that is.’

‘It’s good to have it comfortable. I spend lots of time here,’ I said.

‘I bet you do, son. I bet you do.’

‘I do.’

‘I don’t blame you with all this shit happening around us.’ He nodded to the outside world. ‘Might join you.’

‘But you’ve got loads of places to go, Big Man,’ I said. ‘The mine, the other block, no?’

‘The net’s closing in, Charlie. Those Old Country bastards know me now; they know my face and they’re doing their damnedest to get me.’

‘Really?’

‘Anything and everything they’re trying.’

‘Sorry to hear that,’ I said. I wasn’t sorry at all. A part of me was wishing that the Old Country net would tangle The Big Man up and protect us all.

‘If you want to know the truth, I think there is a rat in the camp,’ he said.

‘A rat?’

‘A rat, a filthy grass.’

WAS I PART OF HIS CAMP?

‘Erm …’ My tongue was stuck.

‘Some motormouth has been blabbing to those bastards. They’ve been to the mine, to the block. They won’t leave me alone. They want my arse on a spit.’

DON’T COME HERE THEN.

Hello, nerves.

Hi, raging heartbeat.

Howdy, sweaty palms.

How are you, shaky legs?

‘I didn’t rat, Big Man, honest I didn’t.’

‘Are you sure?’ The Big Man went back to the voice I knew and loathed.

‘Yes. I wouldn’t do that,’ I said, knowing that if pushed I would do exactly that.

‘You know what’ll happen if I find out it was you, don’t you?’

Good afternoon, full body tremble.

‘I do, but it wasn’t …’

The Big Man paused, screwed his eyes at me. Sort of smiled. ‘Don’t worry, Charlie. I know it wasn’t you, son. I can trust you, can’t I?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re one of us. One of the real Little Towners.’

‘I am.’

I wasn’t really.

‘And you’ve got this.’ The Big Man tapped his temple with his finger. ‘Which is vital; much more important than these.’ He flexed his left bicep and pointed to it with the same finger that had been on his temple.

‘So who do you think has been ratting?’ I asked.

‘Norman,’ he blurted.

‘Norman?’

‘The little prick hasn’t been seen for days; he hasn’t been to see me. I know they’ve got him and they’re squeezing the juice out of him as we speak. It all makes sense.’

‘But he was only here on Saturday.’

‘All it takes is a few days, Charlie. A few hours, in fact, before a tongue starts to wag,’ The Big Man said. ‘It’s more than his tongue that will be wagging if I get my hands on him.’

‘Are you sure it’s Norman?’ I said. I’d known Norman all my life. We’d been in infant school together. I knew without any doubt that he’d be squealing if an Old Country patrol had picked him up. Anyone with any sense in them would, wouldn’t they? I feared for him.

‘He’s thick enough. He’s nowhere to be seen. My warehouse has been raided. Some of the lads have been nabbed off the street. Of course it was Norman. Who else would it have been?’

‘Did he tell you about Max and Bones?’ I said.

‘Who?’

‘Two guys who beat up Pav.’

‘That scrawny Old Country mate of yours?’

‘Yes.’

‘Who battered him?’

‘Two guys at school. Max and Bones they’re called.’ I could see in The Big Man’s eyes that he knew exactly what I was talking about. ‘Norman told me that they’d been sorted. Why would he have done that if he was a rat?’

‘Because he doesn’t have a brain, that’s why.’

‘Did
you
sort Max and Bones?’ I asked. The Big Man looked at me. Stared. I wasn’t frightened.

‘I don’t keep tabs on everyone I sort out, Charlie.’

‘Did you do it because Pav’s my mate?’

‘Anyone who lays a finger on those in my circle has to pay the consequences. Let’s leave it at that, eh?’

The Big Man’s eyes didn’t move from mine.

‘No more questions, Charlie. The more you
don’t
know the safer you are. You don’t want to end up like Norman now, do you?’

‘No.’

‘Keep that open and that shut then,’ he said, meaning my mind and my mouth in that order. ‘Got it?’

‘Got it.’