The Graft (45 page)

He glanced at Willy. He had HIV. Slowly but surely he was dying and he had not even lived yet. Just like Tyrell’s Sonny Boy, Willy’s life was over before it had even begun.

The underbelly of society frightened Tyrell, as it did most people. And if you didn’t know about it you didn’t have to deal with it. He wondered now how he would react with the rest of world after all this was wrapped up and put away.

He couldn’t answer that question yet so, settling in the armchair, he started to look at the notes Willy had made. It was strange but he didn’t mind the boys being there. In fact, they were so quiet and respectful he forgot they were after a while and lost himself in the terrible story written down so neatly by Willy.

 
Angela couldn’t sleep. It was nothing to do with the bed or the fact that she felt strange in her daughter’s house.

It was because of Nick.

The room she was in was lovely, all muted colours and pretty prints, but she felt her heart racing with terror because her own son had done something terrible and she knew what it was.

The dinner had been gorgeous, and she had sat and watched the family happily interacting. Carl had a fantastic sense of humour, and little Ria, she was a darling. They all were in their own way. But it was Dixon who had surprised her most. He had poured her a glass of wine after dinner, cleared the table with his wife and loaded the dishwasher, all the time chatting with the kids and being
interested
in them and their lives.

When her other grandsons were home from school, Nick and Tammy hardly saw them. It was as if their lives were too busy for there to be space for children or anyone else come to that. Yet none of them really did anything. Poor Tammy filled her days up with the gym and her lunches because she couldn’t stand being in her own home.

A home most women would kill to possess.

And then there was Angela’s Hester. Well, she was a truly happy woman. Later, when the kids had gone to bed, Angela had caught her and Dixon having a quick cuddle in the kitchen. How different this house was from her son’s, and how different from her own house when they were growing up.

Yet it was Nick who still had her heart. Even now, she realised. Hester was a good girl, none better, but from the moment Angela had given birth to her son, he had ruled her heart and mind. Even after what she had found out, she was still worrying about him, and knew in her heart of hearts that she would always worry more about him than anyone else, even herself.

 
Frankie saw Nick at the door and grinned.

‘Can’t keep away, can you?’

‘No, I can’t, where can we go?’

‘In the bedroom, I was just going in meself.’

Nick walked into the room and noticed it was tidy for once.

‘You got a cleaner now then?’

Frankie grinned.

‘Have I fuck. It’s been a slow day, that’s all. Now, what can I do you for?’

It was said with sly innuendo but Nick wasn’t listening, he was already cutting a few lines on the dressing table. He knew he should not be here, that he was taking a big chance once again, but he couldn’t help it. Frankie was like a drug to him and they both knew it.

Especially Frankie who saw this man as a meal ticket that, if treated properly, could feed them all for years.

‘Come on, get your kecks off, I’m in a hurry.’

’Ain’t you always?’

Nick didn’t laugh, he was too busy snorting.

 
Kerr was talking to Tyrell now and answering his questions about the notes Willy had made. Willy got them all a drink and Tyrell was once more amazed when both boys said they wanted hot chocolate. He had expected a row with them for his Bacardi.

Willy had made him a Bacardi and Coke, nice and strong, and Tyrell sipped it slowly. The alcohol was needed by this time. They had put Kiss on now, and the music was soothing in the background. Tyrell glanced at the TV screen and watched 50 Cent ‘Pimp’ strutting his stuff. Give him Bob Marley or Eddie Grant any day.

‘So Justin could easily be in this rat house then?’

Kerr nodded.

‘He could be, but like I say, man, no one’s seen him since . . .’

His voice trailed off.

Tyrell said gently, ‘Kerr, just tell me what you know. Don’t be afraid, OK? I will not blame you no matter what I hear, I promise on Sonny’s grave.’

Kerr looked at Willy, who nodded sagely.

‘Did Sonny go to the rat house with Justin?’

Kerr nodded again.

‘He started to go there a lot more often in the last weeks before he died.’

Tyrell dropped his head down on to his chest; this was so painful to listen to.

‘Have you ever been there?’

Kerr nodded, ashamed and embarrassed to admit the fact.

‘But they didn’t like me, see? They could see I hated it there so they stopped taking me. The big man said I was useless and laughed at me.’

It was said deadly seriously and Tyrell took a deep breath before saying, ‘ ’Course you didn’t like it, mate. No one would.’

Willy and Kerr looked at one another strangely and Tyrell, picking up the signals from them, said: ‘What’s going on?’

‘Tell him, Kerr.’

The big boy waved his arms as if warding off evil.

‘You have to tell him, Willy, you promised me.’

He took a deep breath before saying, ‘You sure you want the truth, Tyrell?’

He nodded, wondering what they were going to tell him next.

Willy wiped his nose with the back of his hand before saying loudly, ‘Sonny went to the rat house a lot because the man who took him there liked him and Sonny liked the man.’

Tyrell was looking quizzically at the boy as he took in what he was saying.

‘You what? What are you trying to tell me?’

Willy licked his lips nervously before he continued.

‘The man he was seeing . . . we don’t know his name, but Sonny was going out with him like . . . Kerr said they were together a lot. Sonny told him all about it. Said he was going to get a flat to live in and money to keep himself like.’

Tyrell was still staring at the two boys in astonishment.

‘What are you on about? Are you telling me my Sonny was with an old bloke
through choice
?’

Willy nodded.

‘Yeah, he met him when he was still new to it all. They like them new, the older men. And from what Kerr said they got on really well and Sonny was mental on him, said he was in love and that this man loved him and had promised to take care of him always.’

Tyrell heard the words but was convinced he was having aural hallucinations. This had to be wrong, there was no way his son was like that. They had to have got it all wrong. It was bad enough finding out his boy had flogged his arse, but to find out he actually
liked
it?

Was willing to accept money. To be kept.

He looked at Kerr. The boy didn’t have it in him to make up something like that, Tyrell’s sensible side was telling him that much. If this was true, though, he had never known the boy he called his son. Could never really have known him.

He just thought he did.

‘Tyrell?’

He looked up at Willy, and then his eyes were stinging with tears and for all the world it felt like he was going to die of grief all over again.

‘Kerr says he saw the man with Sonny a few times. He didn’t see him close up or nothing, but he knew they weren’t hiding it. At least, Sonny wasn’t.’

Willy watched all the changing expressions on Tyrell’s face and then without being asked started to build him a joint.

 
Tammy had had what was for her a good night. Now, though, she was home and the house felt completely empty. It was strange but all the time Angela had been there and a thorn in her side, she had never felt like she did now, coming home to this enormous place and being completely alone.

How had Angela stood it?

She had spent half her time here on her Jacksy, and it must have been horrible.

As Tammy walked into the kitchen the sheer size of it was enough to make her nervous. She walked over to the cellar door and pushed the bolt across. It was nearly 2.30, early for her but she had cabbed it home because no one who was anyone was out. Her mates had been excited about the day before and had made all the right noises. They all bored her rigid in the end.

She made her way upstairs after part-setting the alarm so it was on downstairs. She hoped Nick would not set it off as usual when he finally strolled home. In the bedroom she stripped off her clothes and left them on a chair, then she dumped all her jewellery on the dressing table including her wedding and eternity rings. Putting on a silk kimono-type dressing gown, she poured herself another iced vodka and put the TV on. She climbed into the big comfortable bed and opened the bedside cabinet to get out a bottle of Night Nurse. There was nothing like it to send you to sleep when you had coked yourself out. Tammy had trouble getting the lid off and her language was ripe as she wondered aloud how old people managed to get the stuff out of the bottle in the first place. She swigged the bitter green fluid straight from the bottle, hating the acrid taste as it coated her mouth like oil, then finally she lay back to watch TV.

As usual she lost herself in
Will and Grace
and
The Golden Girls
. She didn’t know what she would do without her Sky Plus. She taped all the soaps but it was these comedies she loved most. She was just drifting off when she felt Nick climb into bed beside her.

She turned to face him, feeling the familiar size of him in the bed. As she cuddled into him she froze, then sitting bolt upright screamed out, ‘Who you been with?’

Nick was lying there looking at her as if she was mad. She could see he was out of his head and that for some reason made her madder than ever.

‘I can smell you, Nick. You’ve been with one of your fucking whores!’

She was out of the bed now and he knew this could turn into an all-nighter if he wasn’t careful. But she was right, he could smell himself now. It was so strong, why had he not noticed it before?

Tammy was crying as she shouted at him.

‘Who is she? Do I know her? Is she one of me mates?’

‘Don’t be so paranoid, Tammy. I swear to God there is no other woman in my life, on my mother’s life.’

‘What’s wrong with me, Nick, why can’t you make love to me any more?’

She was always so dramatic. He wondered what film she had taken that phrase from. He jumped from the bed and went to the en-suite bathroom. Turning the shower on, he said nastily, ‘I have been in these clothes since this morning and what you think is the smell of another woman is actually from where I was lifting gear to store with Billy Clarke. It’s sweat, love, that’s all, and when I have had this shower I am going back to that bed to sleep, all right? One more word out of you, Tammy, and I am going to punch you one.’

‘You fucking lying wanker!’

She was in the bathroom now, wide awake despite the Night Nurse, running on pure adrenaline.

‘Where you been? I want to know once and for all, Nick.’

He stepped from the shower. He had soaped himself quickly and now, feeling cleaner and less guilty, walked back into the bedroom and poured them both a drink.

‘If I tell you where I was, you have to swear you won’t tell your mates, right?’

She nodded, but he could see the cynical expression on her face.

‘Come on then, let’s hear it. It must be bad if you need another drink to tell me about it.’

‘I done Mackie tonight, with a claw hammer.’

His words stopped her in her tracks as he knew they would.

‘You what?’

‘Remember when Stevie came round here a while back?’

She nodded, frightened now of what he was going to say.

’And you know Mackie’s married to Stevie’s sister?’

She nodded once more.

‘Well, Gary Proctor tried to nonce their boy - that’s what Stevie wanted to see me about. We sorted it, but instead of keeping schtum about his boy being raped, Mackie was telling all and sundry. So tonight I shut the fucker up once and for all because we done Gary, see? That was why he died.’

Nothing Tammy had thought to hear could have had more of an effect on her than her husband’s shocking story. And she knew it was true. Nick was telling her the truth for once.

‘Gary raped a boy?’

Her voice was shaking with shock and revulsion.

Nick nodded tiredly.

’As good as. Didn’t know who he was, see? The boy didn’t say about Stevie being his uncle because, bless him, he wanted to get a DJ’s job on his own merits, not because his uncle was a certified bank robber. So now you know why I smell like I do. It’s sweat and a bonfire. I done Mackie with a claw hammer and there was blood spattered all over me clobber so I burned it at the yard. I threw him through his bedroom window, Tammy. He’s probably crippled. At least, I hope he is anyway.’

Nick grinned then.

‘I don’t know what kind of birds you hang about with, Tammy, but if they smell like this then I pity them.’