floor. He could’ve easily bounded up the flight of stairs but he chose to walk slowly, taking in the filth, the graffiti walls, the used syringes and general rubbish strewn along the corridors.
He could feel the anger increasing with every flight of stairs he walked up. The fury ran through his body but he wasn’t entirely sure if he was more upset about Harley or the money he’d dished out. He knew it was a terrible thing to think. It should’ve been all about his daughter but the fact that he kept thinking about the money worried him.
He hated the thought he might be a bad father. He’d been given everything in the world; love, money, and apart from the situation with Maggie, he’d had the freedom to enjoy his life as he wished.
He’d always been surrounded by his mum, his doting father or the hookers from the clubs who’d babysat him. All of them giving him truckloads of love. He’d presumed he’d be the same with his own child – and at first he had.
It’d been a shock when Maggie had told him she was pregnant and he’d needed to go on one of his ‘legendaries’ to get his head round it. When the news had properly sunk in he’d been happy. Not one part of him had wanted her to get rid of it. But then to his shame, when things got tough and complicated, he’d stuck his head in the proverbial. Whilst his wife was banged up he’d palmed his daughter off to Gina Daniels and got on with his life. It was, even by his standards, totally unforgivable.
Gina shuffled to the front door, her hair in yellow Velcro rollers and her feet in brown slippers stained with grease. Her mouth was stuffed full of chocolate and some of it spat out as she swore at the hammering on the door.
‘Bleedin’ hell, I ain’t no frigging racehorse, what’s the rush?’
Gina pulled open the front door. She was about to continue spouting off when she came face to face with Johnny Taylor standing there, his face looking like a bulldog chewing a wasp.
‘Johnny!’
‘Get out me way Gina, I want to see Harley and I want to know what the fuck’s going on.’
‘I … I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Well ain’t that convenient? You didn’t think I’d eventually come round to see how you and Nicky were robbing me blind did you?’
Gina Daniels pursed her lips with indignation. She was argumentative whether she was wrong or right but especially when she was wrong.
‘Jon Jon, I ain’t robbing no one. If anybody’s being robbed it’s me.’
‘How do you figure that one out?’
‘I’m being sucked dry by your daughter. Every minute of the day she wants some part of me. Some days I worry I’ll wake up and I’ll just be a pile of bones, she’s taken that much of me.’
Johnny wasn’t interested in hearing it. He pushed past Gina roughly, walking into the front room, seeing the piled up takeaway trays, the overflowing ashtrays, the crumpled Lotto slips and in the corner, curled up on the mismatched burgundy chair, was his beautiful daughter, Harley.
The shame washed over him once more as he watched her sleep and instead of waking her, he grabbed hold of Gina by the arm who was chattering behind him like a machine gun.
‘Kindness of me bleedin’ heart and all I’ve got from it … Ow! What’s that for, Johnny? Get orf me bleedin’ arm.’
‘Shut the frig up with your chatter before me head gets wrecked. You and I both know how much money I gave you and Nicky. Coming in here makes me think I’ve walked in on a scene from Slumdog bleeding Millionaire. It’s disgusting.’
‘Charming I’m sure.’
Johnny pushed Gina against the wall with his forearm, so tempted but resisting the urge to hit her; not wanting to raise a hand to a woman even though the woman was Gina Daniels.
‘Do not take the piss. You need to tell me what’s been going on.’
Johnny stared with fury at Gina, who decided perhaps now might be a good time to start talking.
Nicky was twitching. He’d just taken a hit of the pipe and now he needed a bit of smack to help him come down properly from his high, rather than him clucking away in mid-air. Since Gina had spoken to him he’d been worried, so he’d done what he did best when things got too much or things got too painful; he got high.
He couldn’t get Gary off his back easily, but the one person he could try to appease was Gina. He knew he needed to stop her talking but so far that was as far as his plan had got.
Gina’s front door was ajar and Nicky pushed it open and quietly closed it behind him. He could hear the television on and as he walked into the front room he smiled at the sight of his niece asleep, her corkscrew blonde curls tousled all over her face.
Hearing voices coming from the bedroom, Nicky was about to walk in when he froze, recognising them. It was Johnny Taylor and worse still, Gina, opening her big trap; telling Johnny everything. Everything apart from how much she was in on it all.
‘… I couldn’t believe you’d only give a hundred a week to look after your daughter but Nicky swore blind that’s all you gave. Me being me didn’t want to turf the poor mite out onto the street. Poor creature ain’t got anyone else. That’s my trouble, I got too big a heart for my own good. My mother always said that. She said, Gina, people will take advantage of your good nature. I’m shocked, Johnny, I really am. I never thought Nicky would steal from his own, especially when the poor mite’s mum was in prison, and with all the secrets surrounding her. That alone would be worth more than a ton wouldn’t you say?’
Johnny glared at Gina. She was a sly cow and he didn’t believe a word she said about not being any part of it. But at least he knew some of the picture.
‘Don’t push it darlin’, I ain’t a muppet. The way I see it you owe me, ’cos I don’t buy that you weren’t in on it. I’ll deal with Nicky later, but I want to tell you how it’s going to work from now on.’
Nicky backed away. It couldn’t have got any worse if he tried. It didn’t take a maths degree to know there wouldn’t be any money coming his way now. The only thing which was coming was more trouble. This time in the shape of Johnny. Nicky owed everyone big time, he knew that. What he also knew was that even though he owed money his priorities would still lie in his habit – his habit would come first, whether he or anyone else liked it.
Maggie opened the curtains in Nicky’s room and sighed, wondering what Harley was doing, wondering if she was okay. She was looking forward to seeing her later on. Her thoughts never strayed for long from her daughter; from her smile, from her laughter, from her whole being. Harley was everything to Maggie.
Maggie looked around the room. It wasn’t so much of a mess as a disaster. The brown wooden flooring was hardly visible under the mounds of dirty clothes, all stained from vomit and spotted with blood. The furniture tops were covered in empty cans of Pepsi and beer.
Maggie noticed some of them had been cut in half with a hole pierced into them; a sign her brother had been smoking crack. There was a stale smell hanging in the air, partly from the lack of fresh air, partly from tobacco but mainly from whatever drugs her brother had been smoking. She looked up to the ceiling and saw it was stained brown from the nicotine.
Maggie attempted to open the window but it was jammed shut from the dried paint. She doubted it’d been opened since her father had brought round a couple of his mates to repaint the house a few years ago.
Giving up with the window, Maggie looked at the bed. Lying with the cover over his head was Nicky, his black-soled feet visible.
‘Nicky, we need to talk.’
Nicky didn’t