Monkey Wrench (21 page)

‘No they bloody don't,' I said.

‘You can't kid me,' Bella said. ‘That Hacker's at the pub right now sinking pints and swapping dirty jokes with California Carl.'

‘No he ain't,' I said. ‘They took him down the hospital in a frigging ambulance.'

‘There!' said Mandy to Bella. ‘I
told
you.'

‘You're so naive,' Bella said to Mandy. ‘He's no more hurt than I am.'

‘He
was,'
Mandy said. ‘Wasn't he, Eva? I saw with my own two eyes.'

‘He's got a broken leg and a torn groin,' I said. ‘He'll be out of the game for months if not for ever.'

‘
Told
you,' Mandy said.

‘You're plain daft.'

‘Not!'

‘Shut up,' said Crystal.

I said nothing. The trouble with outsiders is they can't tell fact from fancy. I wasn't going to put them straight, 'cos it's an unwritten rule with insiders that you're not to. Let them believe what they like, so long as they believe. There's lots of fact, and there's lots of fancy in wrestling, and I'm not saying more than that. If you want to know which is which, go and see for yourself. Don't expect me to do your seeing for you.

‘Anyway,' Mandy said, ‘that Hacker got what was coming to him. California Carl's a real hunk.'

And then she and Stef started talking about what a hunk he was, about all the things he probably never showed off even at his Boy Beautiful contests. Which surprised me – I'd of thought they'd be
clagged up with men's bodies, seeing as it's men's bodies they do for a living.

Kath's Billy stopped at the Full Moon at the top of Mandala Street and everyone got out. I could've done with a beer but I was choked off with them all by then – there's only so much you can take about California Carl's mustard bum. Besides, I was more hungry than thirsty, so I trekked off to the nearest burger bar.

But Crystal caught me up. She said, ‘I didn't want to say in front of the others, but Justin's got some food in for you.'

‘For me?' I said, and I stopped in surprise. ‘What for?'

‘Well, see, he wanted to,' Crystal said. She blinked her little monkey eyes like it was the most normal thing in the world. ‘Y'know, for letting him join in the self-defence. He's strapped for cash – what with being sick and the vet's bill an' all. He thought you could do with something hot after your fight.'

‘He did?'

‘'Course, he wanted to come to your fight but he still ain't got all his strength back.'

‘Oh,' I said. I was stone mystified and I couldn't think what else to say. No one ever cooked my dinner for me. Ma sometimes brought in takeaways, but she never cooked. I was never at her place much anyway, and you don't count the food you get in homes and secure units. They may be homes, but you don't get home cooking there.

We walked down Mandala Street to the Premises. Crystal didn't say much, and I kept looking at her out the corner of my eye 'cos I thought she must be up to something. But when she let us in I could smell onions frying, and my mouth started watering so I couldn't be bothered to find out.

Justin popped out of the kitchen and said, ‘Go on up and make yourselves comfortable. I won't be a tick. There's beer upstairs.'

So we went up to his room. I had to stop in the doorway. I couldn't believe my eyes. The last time I was up there, when I went to look at Queenie, there was a mattress on the floor and that was all. Now it was all pretty colours and lamps with lampshades on, and little rugs, and chairs with material thrown over them. And
there were dark red curtains and pictures hiding the stains on the walls. He'd made a proper nest of it.

Crystal wasn't surprised so I guessed she'd kitted him out with all her spare bric-a-brac. But it didn't look like her room. Her room looks like a stockroom for her stall. This looked like home, like Justin lived there permanent.

Crystal poured beer into mugs. We didn't drink it out of the cans. And there was a plate of little cheesy things. You needed about five of them to make a mouthful, but they tasted nice.

And another thing – the place smelled sweet. The rest of the Premises ponged of mouldy damp. Justin's room smelled lavendery and cedary.

‘Don't just stand there,' Crystal said. ‘Park your arse.'

So I sat in one of the chairs. What I couldn't get out of my brain-box was the picture of when me and The Enemy bust in on Justin the first time we saw him. Him squatting on a pile of rubbish downstairs, with his little gas camping stove and his sleeping bag. And Queenie panting in the corner. He didn't have a pot to piss in then. That was hardly a week ago.
Now
look at him!

He came up then, with a big tray. He said, ‘Crys said you'd like steak.' And he gave me a plate, and a knife and fork wrapped in a red paper napkin.

There was steak, and onion rings, and little mushrooms, and fried potatoes, and peas.

‘Dig in,' said Justin. ‘You must be starving.'

And I was, so I got stuck in, and it was the most dynamite dinner I had in my life. If someone asked me, ‘How do you like your meat done, how do you like your spuds cooked?' I'd say, ‘Just like this.' But Justin hadn't asked. He'd done it like he already knew.

Every so often I'd sneak a look at Crystal, and she was noshing away too, like there was no tomorrow. And every so often I caught Justin sneaking a look at Crystal and me noshing, and he had a little curly smile on, like he was our mum or something.

‘All right?' said Justin. But I couldn't answer because I'd just wiped my plate with the last chunk of potato and stuck it in my gob.

‘Magic,' said Crystal.

‘Mmm,' said I.

‘Pudding?' said Justin.

He brought up a huge dish of sweet dark chocolate pudding, and he spooned dollops of it into bowls for Crystal and me. I still couldn't say a word 'cos my mouth was always full of pudding.

He made tea and put a tape in his tape deck. And then he said, ‘What was the wrestling like?' And Crystal started to tell him.

It was like seeing it again at the movies. Crystal told him all about it – all the people, like Gruff and Pete and Harsh, and Phil and Hacker and California, sounded like characters in a movie. Me too. I sounded like The Terminator. And I wanted to say, ‘Tell it again, Crystal. I want to hear that part again.' But my mouth was full of sweetness and I started nodding off.

Because there's nothing like it, is there? Sitting in a comfy chair, too full to move, hearing someone talk about you like you're the heroine in a movie. I could bottle that and take it in little sips every night of my life.

When I opened my eyes a little later on Crystal was curled up in her armchair and Justin was stretched out on the bed. It couldn't of been much later, 'cos the light was still on and the room was still full of music and the smell of chocolate.

I sort of thought I shouldn't be there. There was something I ought to be doing. But my eyelids dropped like fat cushions over my eyes and I nodded off again.

And then I was dreaming about something horrible. I was looking in a mirror only the face looking back at me wasn't mine. There was a thing in a black mask looking at me, so I couldn't see what it was except the eyes were blood red. I struggled to tear the mask off because I couldn't breathe. But I wasn't wearing a mask. The thing in the mirror was wearing the mask. It pulled its mask off, and underneath was this deformed face with blood red eyes. One side of its cheek was ripped open and there were hundreds of maggots crawling between sharp dog's teeth. The thing reached out and tried to drag me through to the wrong side of the mirror. I kept trying to make the sign of the cross because that always works
in Dracula movies. But the monster didn't take a blind bit of notice, and it kept dragging me. It was much stronger than me.

I woke up with a yell. At least, I thought it was me yelling. Crystal was sitting bolt upright in her chair. Justin was halfway off the bed – his eyes out on stalks.

‘AAARGH!'

It wasn't me yelling.

‘Wha?' said Crystal. It wasn't her either.

Justin had his mouth open but he never made a sound.

‘AAAARGH!'

I shot out of my chair. I was still half asleep but I flung the door open and staggered out into the hall. There was light leaking from under the next door along.

I threw it open. And saw Bella. Well, I saw her face and legs. What really caught my eye was a hairy arse bumping up and down between her legs.

‘Oy!' I said.

‘Downstairs!' Bella shouted. Her black-red lipstick seemed to be moving of its own accord. ‘Downstairs,' she said. ‘They're downstairs.' And the hairy arse never missed a beat.

‘Gerroff!' she screamed at the hairy arse. But she might've been nailed to the mattress for all the notice it took.

I couldn't get out fast enough and I fell over Crystal on my way.

‘AAARGH!'

‘Downstairs!' Crystal shrieked. And we stumbled to the top of the stairs.

Down there seemed to be full of people.

I raced down, Crystal behind me, through the hall and into the gym. My gym.

Except it didn't look like my gym no more.

The hanging light bulb was shaded with a dark red scarf so everything looked dusky pink.

And the mats were all stacked up so they seemed like beds.

It was Mandy yelling.

There were three blokes.

Mandy and three blokes.

They were doing something. I couldn't see. It wasn't nice. It was making Mandy scream.

In my gym.

‘Yaaaa!' I roared. And I went in with fists and boots.

I punched. I kicked.

‘Oof!' I heard. And, ‘Ow-ow!'

I grabbed a handful of hair and smashed a head into a wall. And then Crystal came flying in with a big frying pan, and I heard, ‘Boing-boing-boing,' so I guessed she was walloping away too.

I wished I had something to boing with. But I didn't, so I laid about me with feet and elbows. I hit everything that moved.

A stack of mats toppled, and suddenly we was all on the floor except Crystal who was beating seven bells out of the back of someone's skull.

I leaped to my feet. There was a bloke lying on his back on the floor. He was struggling up. He made a grab for my ankles.

So I jumped on him.

I jumped on his knob.

Both feet. Full weight.

If you think Mandy screamed loud, you should of heard this bloke! He bellowed like a bull dying.

I didn't care. He was one less to worry about.

And then Crystal came sailing past and landed on her back in the corner. The frying pan only just missed me.

I ducked, and the bloke who threw Crystal staggered into me.

I came up and caught his chin with the back of my head. The blow shook my teeth loose, but he went over backwards like a falling tree.

I had to get them out.

Out.

I went after the one who fell over backwards. I caught him by the foot, and his shoe came off in my hand. So I got his arm and heaved him up. I twisted his arm up his back till I heard the elbow crack and ran him out the door.

That left one.

And that was when Justin came in with a socking great kitchen knife.

‘Gimme!' I yelled, and I snatched the knife off him.

I found the last one squashed under a mat with Mandy pinned under him.

I jabbed him in the thigh to tell him I had the weapon. I took him by the hair and yanked his head up. I stuck the knife under his nose.

‘Get up,' I said. And I shaved his nostril.

He got up. I stuck the knife into the pouch under his eye.

‘Don't!' he said.

I recognised him then. In spite of the dim red light I recognised the stoat-faced pillock who'd gone, ‘Oy, Bucket Nut,' at me from the shadows two nights ago.

I pricked him under the eye.

‘Back off,' I said.

‘My eyes!' he said. His breath was gob-turd.

‘Out,' I said. ‘Back out.'

His nose was dribbling blood where I shaved it. The blood looked black in the red light.

Back he went. Slowly. Ever so careful. He didn't want to jog the knife.

It would've been all right.

I know it would've been all right. Except for fuckin' Mandy.

She came from behind me. She'd got to her feet. She'd found her handbag somewhere.

‘AAAARGH!' she went. And she clattered him on the side of his head with her handbag.

His head hit the knife. It wasn't me. Honest.

I wasn't going to cut him 'less he made me. For
true
.

His head hit the knife. The knife sliced clean through his cheek.

First there was this thin black line from his eye to his jaw. Then the slit opened up and I could see his teeth. Just like in my dream. And then the blood began to pour.

His hand went up. His eyes went glassy. And then he fainted dead away.

He crumpled down.

And that left us with three bodies on the floor.

There was Stoat. There was the one with the squelched knob. And there was little Monkey Wrench, all of a heap. Three.

But I counted wrong. There was four.

There was Stef. I hadn't even seen Stef, but I'd probably trod on her.

Me and Mandy and Justin stood there with our gobs hanging open, looking at the pile of human parts on the floor. What a total, mega wreck.

And I'd forgotten Bella and hairy-arse upstairs.

Do you know who hairy-arse was? Can you guess? Well,
can
you?

Hairy-arse was Pete Carver.
Pete fucking Carver!

I couldn't believe it. I really couldn't. No.

What a mind-blowing, bloody, shite-hole of a shambles!

Pete Carver walked in, still buckling his belt and hitching up his trousers.

‘Farkin'ell, Eva,' he said. ‘What you been teaching in your self-defence school? Farkin' butchery?'