Wee Rockets (37 page)

"There's a wee nurse in here who wants to take me home with her."

Joe gave him a sidelong look. "Aye, you told me."

"Did I?"

"Just there now. You okay?"

"I'm fine. Anyway, this nurse; she's as fit as fuck."

Joe nodded.

"And she lives in Poleglass. That place sounds mad. Every week she sees kids from her area coming in here to get treatment for overdoses or bad pills." He yawned again. "Said that one weekend there were three teenagers who'd all bought ecstasy off the same dealer. One of them died and the other two only just pulled through. They'd all gotten bad shit from the same batch. It's like Russian Roulette."

"What's that?"

"Jesus, Joe. Read a book or something, will you? It's like, you never know with some drugs when you're going to get something that fucks you up in the wrong way."

Danny closed his eyes for a second while Joe got his head around the concept. It felt a little like the room was swaying. How he imagined it would feel like to lie down on the deck of a boat. He opened one eye and focussed on Joe.

"I think I see what you mean, mate." Joe said.

"Yeah, Joe. Something to think about, eh?"

Danny closed his eye and let the waves gently rock him. He could hear Joe's voice, but not what he was saying. He realised that the pain in his head had faded to nothing more than a bit of pressure behind his eyes. Bliss.

Then he opened his eyes.

Joe had turned into his brother, Paul.

"How the fuck did you do that, mate?"

"What?"

"Holy shit. You even sound like him."

"Danny, are you okay?"

"Is it still Friday?"

"Aye, Friday evening."

"Oh." His brain caught up with the new situation then gave him a jolt of pain to wake him up. "Oh, right. Is Joe away on?"

"He wasn't about when we got here." Paul flicked his head towards the foot of the bed.

Danny's sleep-heavy eyes widened. "Holy Jesus. Are you here with our Paul?"

Buffy the Vampire Slayer's sexier sister nodded. "Yeah, darling."

"Wow."

"Emily, would you get him a Mars from the shop?"

"Yeah, sure."

Danny watched her until she disappeared around the corner. Then he turned to Paul. "Who the fuck is she?"

"A friend."

"Does Sinead know her?"

"Never you mind. How are you today?"

"Tired."

"You've done nothing but sleep since you got here."

"Because I'm tired."

"Well, I know what happened. I just want you to know I'm going to put it right."

"What do you know?"

"That Dermot Kelly used you as a shield and left you to take the heat for him." Paul sighed and the corners of his mouth drooped. He looked older.

"I was thinking about touting to the cops. Get him lifted." Danny waited for the standard republican lecture. It didn't come.

"I don't think they'd find him. But I know how to track him down."

"Joe told me McVeigh was going to sort it out."

"McVeigh came to me because he knew I'd want the satisfaction. And it just so happens I'm shagging Kelly's bird, so I'll be more help than he could have known."

"Fuck off!"

"Shush. You keep that to yourself."

"Can I tell Joe?"

Paul paused then scrunched up his nose. "Ach, why not?"

"Class."

"So anyway, she's agreed to help me and McVeigh get our hands on Kelly. We're going to tear the fucker apart. And if he's still alive after we're done, we're telling him he's got one day to leave the country."

"You'd do that for me?"

"You're my wee brother."

"Cheers, Paul." Danny rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. It came back wet. "I'm in a shitload of trouble, aren't I?"

Paul nodded and put a hand on Danny's chest. "Afraid so."

"What's going to happen?"

"Don't think about it right now. I want you to get better. Then you can worry about what comes next."

"Okay."

"Because as soon as you're out of that hospital bed, I'm going to slap you so hard you'll be right back in it for a week."

Danny smiled and closed his eyes.

Stephen's multi-coloured Escort shuddered to a halt on Stranmillis. Light from the Mace corner shop bathed the kerbside parking space. He winked at Emily in the rear view mirror.

"All set?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, darling."

Wee Paul fidgeted in the passenger seat. He twisted his spine to look in on the blonde honey and give her an encouraging smile. Stephen experienced a pang of jealousy. Absurd, because Wee Paul had been completely open about his business arrangement with Emily, but he could see subtle signs of friendship between them. And with things the way they were between him and Louise, the adulterer and the prostitute looked like Romeo and Juliet.

Emily fished a phone out of her handbag and called Dermot.

"It's me, Dermot. Yeah, I want you to come see me for a chat. I've missed you, but you won't get me back without some serious grovelling. Meet me in the little coffee shop above the bakery. The one run by that miserable cunt and his mother. Yeah, we'll get some privacy there. Don't keep me waiting."

She disconnected and dropped the phone back into her bag.

"Is he coming?" Stephen asked.

"Yeah."

"How can you be sure?"

"We've had tiffs before, darling. He knows what side his bread is buttered on. And he
always
comes."

"We better get this heap of shite out of sight," Wee Paul said. "Reverse it up into this street. We'll still have a view of the coffee place."

Tucked in behind a 3 Series BMW on St Ives Gardens, they watched the café for Dermot's arrival. The narrow one way street accommodated two rows of parked yuppie and student cars. Even Stephen's rusty heap would be hard to spot in the line up. Emily hummed softly in the back. Not an unpleasant sound, but a little upbeat in the circumstances.

"There he is," Wee Paul said. "Who's he with though?"

"I don't fucking believe it," Emily said.

Stephen squinted. His grip tightened on the steering wheel.

"Oh, shit," Wee Paul said. "That's Louise isn't it?"

Stephen grunted.
What the fuck is she playing at?
His chest swelled, pushing against his seatbelt, as hot blood pumped through his veins. He wanted Dermot's head on a plate.

Emily sighed. "Oh, Dermot. You are a berk."

"You don't sound that bothered," Paul said.

"I'm not. I feel sorry for the idiot. Obviously he thinks he can make me jealous by bringing his ex-wife along. But I don't give a fuck about him. No more than I could care for a pimp. He's always been my errand boy and that's it. I threw him the odd fuck as a little treat, but now he's gotten all puppy love on me. He must have damaged his brain in that car crash."

"Well, let's finish the job then," Stephen said. "Come on, Paul."

"I'll come with you, boys."

"No," Paul said. "You stay out of the way. We don't want you getting hurt when it all kicks off. That's what we agreed, remember?"

"And we agreed that when we thought we were coming to see Dermot on his own. Which one of you two is going to punch that girl's lights out if she decides to go Amazonian warrior on you?"

"Nobody is going to punch her lights out," Stephen said.

"She might have a point, Stephen. You said yourself she was pissed at you. And I've seen her fight. She's fucking vicious."

"Right, fine. Let's just get in there and fix this wanker."

Emily led the way. A little bell above the door tinkled as they entered the bakery. A sour-faced woman with Brillo Pad hair and tiny eyes swimming behind large round glasses stalked out from the back.

"Can I help you?"

"Room upstairs for three?" Emily asked.

"Plenty. I'll be up to take your order in a few minutes."

"Take your time, love," Wee Paul said.

The aul doll pursed her lips and nodded curtly. "See you up there."

They tramped up the narrow staircase. Dermot and Louise's voices drifted down to Stephen's ears, but with the roar of blood in his head he couldn't make out the words. Something light, judging by Louise's giggles. Emily rounded the balustrade and the conversation came to a dead halt.

"Don't stop on my account, Dermot."

"Emily, you've met Louise."

"Hello, darling."

Stephen topped the stairs as Louise raised a timid hand to wave at Emily. She blinked furiously, as if trying to wash away an illusion. "Stephen? What are you doing here?"

"I'm going to have that chat with your
ex
, babe. You might want to take a walk with Emily."

"Why, what are you going to do? I never took you for a petty thug. Don't let me down."

"Sorry, darling," Emily said, "but you are coming for a walk with me. Whether you want to or not. These boys have a lot to talk about."

"Fuck off, slut."

"Now don't be a bitch, darling. There's no reason why we can't be nice to each other."

The two women, neither of which Stephen would want to fuck with, gave each other the hairy eyeball.

Dermot broke the silence with a gravelly forced cough. "Emily, did you bring these two here to harm me?"

"Why yes I did, Dermot. It's been a long time coming. And when I got all the facts about your disaster last Tuesday night, how could I not? That little boy could have died."

"We're meant to stick by each other. Watch each other's backs."

"Stick by each other? Is that why you brought Louise with you?"

"I was pissed off. I just wanted to fuck with your head. But it's not as if I called Rent-a-Goon to sort you out over a disagreement. Call them off, love. We can do this sensibly."

"I don't think they could be called off, even if I wanted to. You've given them both a vendetta now, darling."

"When I'm finished with them, I'm going to cut your pretty face up."

"You're a hard man, aren't you?" Stephen said. "Using kids to do your dirty work and threatening women. Well, let's see you get through me then. But it might be a bit more of a challenge this time. You'll not get to sneak up behind me."

Dermot stood up, tipping his chair back, and turned his palms out by his hips. "Come on then, big lad."

Louise jumped to her feet and intercepted Stephen as he strode forward to knock lumps out of the scummy bastard. She put her hands on his chest and made eye contact. "Stephen, don't do this. Please."

"How could you go back to this cunt?" Stephen asked. "Did you forget all the shit you went through when he ditched you and Joe?"

"I'm having coffee with him, not sucking his dick. I came to see him to talk about our son. And I wanted to ask him about this armed robbery you were..."

Louise disappeared from his view and a white light flashed. He went down, landing on his side. The sneaky bastard had blindsided him. And whatever he'd hit him with had been heavy. Stephen's hand came away from his temple slick with blood. He'd been split open. Grabbing at a chair and a table, he fought to get to his feet. Knives, forks and a wine bottle with a candle stuffed into the neck clattered to the floor as he pulled at the tablecloth. Most likely he'd been clobbered with a matching candleholder.