put his plate on the carpet, sat his son on his knee and ruffled his hair. He opened a can of cider with one hand as he tickled his pride and joy with the other.
‘You’re such a top boy, Charlie. At least you went out in style, eh, wee man?’ Charlie laughed. ‘Do you wannae know a secret? Your daddy used to flash his willy at the teacher too.’
Watching father and son giggling together on the sofa, Debbie was seriously fuming.
‘You’re meant to be telling him off, Billy, not encouraging him to be naughty. It’s not funny, you know, when he behaves like that. It’s not you who has to go through the embarrassment of it every day, is it?’
‘Willy, willy, willy,’ Charlie shouted.
As he looked at Debbie’s serious expression, Billy’s laughter grew louder. He was well pissed by now. He had been in the boozer since lunchtime and consequently thought Charlie’s antics hilarious. In fact, he couldn’t wait to tell all the lads in the pub that his boy had flashed his cock at the teacher. How funny was that?
Debbie picked up the dirty plates, stormed out into the kitchen and slammed the door behind her. No wonder her son had behaviour problems with a father who encouraged his every bit of wrongdoing. Why, oh why, hadn’t she listened to her mother and Peter and chosen a better partner to have kids with? It was at that precise moment that she knew she was gonna have to do something, and soon. The longer she stayed with Billy, the fewer chances in life her son was going to have.
Going back to her mother’s wasn’t an option; Perfect Peter would strangle Charlie in five minutes flat. Deciding that her brother was her best bet, Debbie resolved to get Christmas and New Year out the way, then get in touch with Mickey and ask him to help her. Rubbing her tired eyes, she picked up the tea-towel and dried the last of the plates. She was nervous about her future, but convinced that she was making the right decision.
Debbie wasn’t a religious girl. As she put the plates away in the cupboard, she had no idea that Him up above had already dealt her hand. Getting away from Billy wasn’t destined to be easy. Downright impossible, maybe. But easy … no fucking way!
DEBBIE WAS AWOKEN early on Christmas morning by an excited Charlie who’d decided to jump up and down on top of her.
‘Presents, Mum, presents!’ he screamed. Nudging Billy, so that he wouldn’t miss out, Debbie got out of bed, chucked on her old pink dressing gown, and shuffled out into the kitchen to make a coffee.
Three o’clock she’d finally got to bed that morning. It had taken her till that time to wrap all of Charlie’s presents. Thirty-two they’d bought him in total and she’d had to hide the bloody things next door in Sharon’s. Her son was a nosy little sod and would have found them weeks ago if she hadn’t kept them well hidden away.
Billy had brought over half of them home from the many pubs he frequented. Apparently, at this time of year the junkies and lowlifes were out thieving on a daily basis, and toy shops were an easy target for their thieving little hands. They would then go round the local pubs selling their hooky wares for cheap and cheerful prices. The likes of Billy would offer them puff, whizz or cash in exchange.
Hearing a commotion in the front room, Debbie rushed in and was dismayed to see that Charlie had already opened half of his gifts and chucked them to one side.
‘Now stop it,’ she scolded him as he lobbed a football across the room, sending the Christmas tree flying. ‘I told you to wait for Mummy, you naughty boy. Let Daddy get out of bed before you open the rest.’
Ten minutes later, a bleary-eyed Billy sat on the sofa in his boxer shorts, feeling as rough as old boots. He’d intended on having an early one last night, so he’d be nice and fresh for his fatherly duties today, but he’d ended up doing the exact opposite and hadn’t rolled home till four o’clock this morning.
As soon as the final presents were opened, Billy thanked Debbie for the jumper and jeans she’d bought him, slung his clothes on, and announced he was popping down to Andy’s to get her presents and another big one he’d brought for Charlie last night.
He returned over an hour later and handed her a fake Cartier watch, a bottle of hooky perfume and a stolen M&S dressing gown and slippers that were both far too big. For Charlie there was a large plastic car. Billy looked as proud as a peacock as he watched his boy pedalling around, knocking into all and sundry on his way.
‘That’s a bit big for in here, Billy,’ Debbie said, horrified by the monstrous-looking thing with which her son was gleefully bashing up the flat.
Billy put his arms around her. ‘Lighten up, Debs, it’s Christmas and he loves it. Nae matter about the damage, the furniture’s old anyway. Oh, and I hope you don’t mind, but I felt so sorry for Andy sitting downstairs on his own that I invited him up for dinner. The poor bastard has nae family nearby so I said he could spend the day with us.’
‘Whatever,’ Debbie said as she marched out into the kitchen to peel the potatoes and veg.
Andy was pleasant enough but permanently stoned and spent most of his days in his own little trance. He wasn’t particularly the type of influence she wanted around her precious son. Charlie had enough problems of his own without having any more. Deciding to keep her thoughts to herself rather than start World War Three, Debbie lost herself in daydreams of her brand new life. She would have a nice house with a big garden. Charlie would behave impeccably, at home and at school. Maybe she would get him a dog, a cute little puppy for him to play with and love …
Her daydreams were interrupted by a knock at the door. She wasn’t expecting any visitors so she guessed it was either Andy arriving or one of the girls from next-door. Looking through the peephole, she could see no one.
‘Surprise!’ shouted her brother as she opened the door. Debbie’s heart turned over. Her Christmas was destined to be shit as it was, without this. Laden with two big sacks full of presents, Mickey followed his sister into the kitchen and accepted her offer of a can of lager.
‘Sorry I couldn’t get round before, sis, but I’ve been so busy. You know how it is.’
Debbie was a bundle of nerves as she dragged her brother into the living room. He usually turned up when Billy wasn’t about and she knew that there was no love lost between them.
Mickey grinned. ‘All right, Billy, how you doing?’
‘Yeah, fine,’ Billy answered politely. Inside he was seething. He hated Mickey with a passion. Just hearing that cocksure voice wound him up practically to the point of no return.
‘What have you brought me, Uncle Mickey?’ Charlie yelled, bouncing up and down with excitement as he spotted the two big sacks in the hallway.
Mickey smiled falsely at the child that he’d tried, but was unable, to like. He was however determined to carry on his role as doting uncle, for his sister’s sake if no one else’s. ‘By the looks of it, Father Christmas has brought you enough as it is,’ he said, winding the kid up. ‘Maybe I should take my presents home with me and give them to some other poor little boy who hasn’t got any?’
‘Nooooo!’ Charlie screamed at the top of his voice. ‘My presents, I want them!’
Billy sat with a fixed smile while he watched his son open the expensive presents his shit-cunt of an uncle had bought him. Charlie leapt up and down with pure delight at his latest haul.
A toy garage full of cars; a robot that walked about at the switch of a button; a cowboy outfit which looked like the real thing; and finally an electronic train set with stations, people, warning signs … the whole fucking lot! Unable to watch any more, Billy was saved by a knock at the door and Andy’s arrival. He dragged his pal into the kitchen, handed him a can of Strongbow and downed his own in record time. He was furious, really wild, and needed to calm himself down.
Opening the kitchen window,