Книга: No One Gets Out Alive
Назад: TWELVE
Дальше: FIFTEEN

DAY TWO

THIRTEEN

‘Awright, nice day at work? What flavour was them crusts you was giving out today? Don’t know how you can stand a job like that. Demeaning, ain’t it?’ Knacker grinned as if triumphant at her return to the house. He came out of the room at the end of the second floor corridor, quickly pulling the door closed behind him. The hallway lights winked out.

Stephanie had only returned to collect as much as she could carry, and to make the most difficult phone call of her life to Ryan, before heading to New Street train station to buy a single ticket to Coventry with the last of her money, so she could put the disaster that had been her new start in Birmingham out of its misery.

Ryan hadn’t picked up her calls so far, or responded to her text messages, but if he allowed her to return to his place, and if she travelled to Coventry tonight, the deposit and advance rent were gone for good, something she’d begrudgingly accepted that day like the removal of a front tooth to permanently destroy her smile. Ryan would then have to accompany her to this house at the weekend to pick up the rest of her bags, while also needing to sub her with cash.

Either that or she left the building this evening and walked around Birmingham city centre all night until the Bullring opened.

Not even six full months away from her stepmother, after fleeing what she had known as the family home since the age of eleven, but a house that now belonged to Val, and she’d already sunk to last resorts: no money, borrowed beds, an ex-boyfriend’s mercy.

‘Fack’s sake. Put them fings on again, will ya?’

Stephanie hit the switch quickly, her speed motivated by the thought of being inside a lightless passage with Knacker. She opened the door to her room and stepped inside.

‘Hang on, hang on, I need to speak wiv you.’

‘I have nothing to say to you.’

‘Suit yourself. Just wanted to show you somefing.’

Stephanie dropped her bag on the bed and turned to close the door at the precise moment Knacker appeared in the doorway to deter her. The lights went out behind him. He shook his head with irritation and slapped them on again. It struck her as odd that he would be annoyed with his own policy of timed lighting. Maybe it was his parents’ innovation.

His presence made her tense and nervous, but he made no move to enter the room. He sniffed up his long nose; the bones at the top were thickened by poorly healed breaks. ‘I know the conversation we had last night was awkward.’

Awkward? She stared at him, aghast.

‘We might have got off on the wrong foot and all that. So I’ve been having a fink today. And fought I was probably being a bit harsh last night.’ Clearly delighted he had her full attention, he immediately resumed his tedious loquaciousness. ‘I fought, have a heart, Knacker. Girl’s on her own and all that. New city. No fella. No friends . . .’

What? What do you want?’ She couldn’t bare him outlining the downsides of her life; she’d stuff hot wax in her own ears before she listened to another word.

The lights clicked out. She wished he would click out. Knacker slapped them on again. When the light returned he looked startled at having been plunged into such a heavy darkness. Then his eyes lidded, like a crafty serpent she thought, but the half-smile never left his face. Very slowly he said, ‘I was getting to that. If you’d let me finish.’

She raised her hands. ‘What? I can have my deposit, can I?’

He raised a finger as if talking to a naughty child. ‘Ah, ah, ah. Don’t put words in my mouf.’

‘Then what do you want?’

‘If you would care to follow me, I will show you.’

‘Why would I go anywhere with you?’

‘My, my, someone’s had a bad day, but don’t take it out on me, yeah, when I’m trying to do you a favour.’

Stephanie closed her eyes. Another night feeling terrified without sleep, followed by another eight hours on her feet, holding a tray of muffin fragments outside a coffee shop, gave her a sense that something inside her had finally broken and that nothing would be able to fix it. She opened her eyes and when she spoke there was no bite or strength left in her voice. ‘Favour? My deposit is the only favour I want.’

‘You’re like a broken record, you are.’ He broke into a bad falsetto to mimic her voice, in revenge she presumed. ‘Deposit. Deposit. Deposit.’ Then he grinned and showed her his peg teeth. ‘Some fings are worth putting a down payment on, yeah? Holding deposit. You don’t wanna look a gift horse in the mouf, sister. So follow me and see what you fink a this. No pressure. I ain’t trying to sell you nuffin’. I’m doing you a favour. You don’t want it, I’ll even help you carry them bags down to the street, cus that might be your only other option, yeah? Else why would you be here?’

She wanted to be a man; she wanted to punch his face. But she was a girl denied even rudeness because he was unstable.

‘Come on, come on. This way, darlin’.’ Knacker stepped away and into the corridor, beaming at her. At the new distance his eyes appeared weird, like they were too close together, and a fraction of a second too slow to move, like he’d spent a significant amount of his life frying his brains with skunk weed or glue.

The lights clicked off and returned him to the darkness.

Назад: TWELVE
Дальше: FIFTEEN