A Cockney's Journey (12 page)

    She sat on the bed, and gave me a kiss and a big hug.
    “Come downstairs when you’re ready. I’ll cook a nice breakfast for you.”
    “OK, thanks, Auntie.”
    She left the bedroom and headed to the kitchen. I sat there for a while, my mind shocked and disturbed at the ever-increasing nightmares. I lethargically climbed out of bed, glancing at my watch. It was ten past eight. While getting dressed, I remembered I had to meet Tony and Brian at ten in the sand pit. A warm feeling came over me; the thought of being with my friends filled me with joy. The smell of sizzling bacon engulfed the bedroom on opening the door. I made my way down to the kitchen, absolutely starving.
    “Sit down, Edward. I’ve got news of your mother. I’ve just finished speaking to her on the phone. She knows you’re here and you should go home at some point today.”
    “Where is she?”
    “They stayed at some sort of family shelter home last night. Apparently they’re going home a little later today. Come on, here’s your breakfast.” She handed me a plate with eggs, bacon, sausage and tomatoes on it. After eating my grub and washing it down with orange juice, I thanked her for the kindness and generosity she bestowed on me.
    “If you need me at anytime, don’t hesitate to come round Edward,” She kissed me on the cheek and waved me on my way.
I arrived at the sand pit just before ten. There was no sign of Tony or Brian anywhere. The weather was perishing, even though the sun was shining. The crisp, cold air made me wonder why the sun bothered to come out at all. I sat on the wall, staring at my watch, waiting for someone to show up. This has happened so many times during my life; being let down has now become the norm. Unfortunately, these occurrences have turned me against relying on absolutely anyone!! It was ten-forty and the cold had now got to grips with my body. Sitting, shivering was not my idea of fun. After another half hour I got up and left the sand pit, disappointed with my absent friends.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Christmas came and went with nothing out of the ordinary happening. Shortly after my fifteenth birthday I left school. None of the teachers or staff were particularly concerned about my non-attendance.
    The New Year brought many changes. I kept my Saturday job in the market until the end of the summer. I also had a full-time job working in a toy factory down the Old Kent Road. I obviously lied about my age to get the job, which really wasn’t a problem, considering the company employed illegal immigrants. The reason I knew that was that on paydays I got a pay packet, while certain staff got cash from the boss’s own pocket. They also didn’t have to clock in. As I said, a hell of a lot happened this year, so I think I’ll start from February.
    I was perched up in bed, reading the latest edition of
Shoot
. It was late and not a sound came from within the house, except the odd squeaking and expanding of the floorboards. My bedroom was freezing cold; my breathing delivered warm air into the coldness, creating pockets of steam. I put my magazine down, feeling heavy-eyed. I snuggled up under the bedclothes, reaching out to turn the bedside lamp off. I was tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable and eventually, after what seemed like hours, I finally dropped off to sleep. Suddenly I jerked awake. Something jumped on the bed. It felt heavy, like a large animal. I could hear heavy panting followed by vicious-sounding growls. I stayed buried beneath the bedclothes; tremors of nervous excitement and fear tingled through my body. The animal was getting heavier, the weight pinned my legs to the bed. What happened next sent a chill down my spine. Memories came flooding back as the howling grew to a menacing sinister scream. The animal advanced slowly over my body towards my buried head. I cringed with fear, waiting for its next move. Suddenly I heard a heavy thump on the floor. The pressure on me ceased, and the animal was now scampering around my room, yelping as if there was something else in the room it knew. Then, without warning came this deathly silence. I waited under the bedclothes, straining my ears. Nothing. After a while, I convinced myself that the coast was clear. I reluctantly pulled back the bedclothes and peered into the darkness. Sitting bolt upright, I found my eyes focused on the wardrobe in the corner of the room. As I gazed at it, to my horror the door opened, standing there in an unearthly light was Tyzak, his black gown billowing around him. His eyes glared at me with insane madness and his horrible evil laugh sounded like the death shrieks of a thousand ghouls.
    “You fool,” he bellowed. “You will never escape me.”
    I found myself gazing deep into his glare. His eyes were fierce, like red-hot glowing coals in a fire. Tyzak nonchalantly moved towards the foot of the bed, sneering. He crossed his arms and stood there like a monk dressed in robes, his head slightly bowed. My heart was pounding at a rate of knots. I gasped for air as the fear gripped my body. Suddenly, on the other side of my bedroom door came a voice, half speaking and half shouting from the landing. There were vigorous thumps on the door; the handle was being violently shaken whilst turning. Tyzak glanced towards the door, releasing me from his gaze. I leapt up, leaning over to switch the lamp on. The light consumed the darkness. Tyzak had vanished!! I jumped out of bed towards the door and opened it, as if expecting someone was on the other side, but nobody was there.
    There was absolutely no human explanation for what had occurred that evening; the experience I had undergone was extremely horrific. Rose was right, Tyzak could manifest himself at will. It was a very alarmed and puzzled boy who finally fell asleep in the early hours of the morning. I woke midway through Friday morning, still feeling tired. Sitting up in bed, I reflected on the night’s events. Still shocked and bewildered, I gently eased myself out of bed.
I must see Rose at some point this weekend,
I thought. I sat on my bed, gleefully remembering there was no school today. The heating packed up during Wednesday afternoon. All the pupils were reliably informed that the school would be shut until the system was fixed, much to everyone’s delight! I moved across the room to my wardrobe and hesitantly opened the door. I took a few steps back with my arm outstretched as if waiting for something to jump out. The door flung open exposing my clothes and I sighed with relief. I got dressed quickly, putting on my warmest jumper. Shutting the bedroom door behind me, I made my way down to the kitchen, knowing there was no one home. Everyone was either at work or school. I opened the fridge door and peered in. Not a great deal to choose from, so I pulled out a lump of cheese and made myself a sarnie. I sat down with a glass of orange, eating my cheese sarnie. After I finished, I let myself out of the back door, making sure it was locked properly. I headed towards the sand pit where I knew Martin, Brian and Danny were hanging out. All three of them, plus quite a few of my mates, went to the same school. As I approached the pit, I could hear loud shouting, the scuffling of feet and a football thumping off the wall. Tony was sitting on the wall watching, looking completely bored.
    “Goal,” shouted Brian. “That’s three nil.”
    “You’re having a laugh,” Martin yelled. “That was a bloody foul, weren’t it, Tony?” he said pleadingly.
    “Looked alright from here, Martin,” he said with authority.
    I jumped on the wall next to Tony, wondering if I’d get a game.
    “Good news about the school, Ed!” Tony grinned.
    “Cor, you’re not wrong. I heard it’s gonna take at least a week. Blinding, eh?”
    “You working tomorrow?”
    “Yeah, why?”
    “A few of us are going to have a pop at the drinks factory tomorrow night. Apparently it’s piss-easy getting in over the fence. The yard is full of crates of lemonade, Coke and Fanta. You up for it, Ed, or what?”
    “Depends what time I get away from work. If I’m not knackered, I’ll come.”
    A strange feeling of unease possessed me just like before… my thoughts wildly churning in my mind as I remembered the last time Tony had a brainwave!
    “Come on, Ed! You can play on our side. We’ve only got four men to their five,” Brian insisted. I slid off the wall and ran on the pitch.
    “Nice to see ya, Eddie boy,” Martin said, holding out his hand which I gladly shook.
    “Likewise, Martin, How you been?”
    “Fine, mate! You?
    “So-so, you know how it is.”
    “Yeah, tell me about it.”
    “OK, that’ll do you two. You can waffle after the game,” Danny said impatiently as he waved the game back into play. Tommy lumped the ball in the air, I rose above Martin, heading the ball down to Brian’s feet. He dragged the ball, laying it off for Danny, who chipped the ball into the box. I brought the ball down with my chest, turning and spanking the ball on the volley. Tommy had no chance. The ball thumped against the brick wall, just inside the painted goal post. I turned, jumping in the air and waving my right arm triumphantly.
    “Four fucking nil!” Martin screamed at Tommy. “You’re bloody useless in goal, you doughnut!”
    “I told you I was a shit goalie,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “You should have listened to me when I told you.”
    Martin kicked the ball at Tommy in anger. Unfortunately, it caught him right in the nuts. He dropped to the floor screaming, holding his plums. His eyes were watering like a fountain as he wriggled in pain on the floor.
    “What did you do that for?” Tommy asked in a loud shrieking tone.
    “I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just lashed out at the ball in frustration, Tom.” Martin said, all apologetically.
    Tony fell off the wall in hysterics. I’d never seen him laugh so much. I looked at Brian. He had a big grin on his face, trying not to laugh out loud. Me? I just stood there in amazement, looking at this idiot rolling about the floor like he had been shot several times. Sometimes it was really embarrassing having Tom as a hanger-on. After twenty minutes, Tom declared himself fit to resume.
    We played football all afternoon; swapping each other round and forming different teams. By the time it was two o’clock, there were fifteen of us chopping and changing. We had such a laugh; pretending to play FA Cup finals and World Cup matches. Around three-thirty, the light started to diminish and with this came a horrendous drop in temperature. We all decided to call it a day and, saying our farewells, we went our separate ways.
    As I walked home, absolutely frozen, I tried to flick my lighter on to warm my hands but I couldn’t function my fingers. I started rubbing my hands together; blowing heavily into numb, cupped hands. It was useless; they were frozen, so I stuffed my hands into each jean pocket, rubbing vigorously trying to bring them back to life. I started thinking about meeting Tony, Brian and Danny after work tomorrow. I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. However, I decided to cross that bridge later.
    I woke to the sound of my alarm clock. It was a cold, dark February morning. I switched the bedside lamp on and glanced at the clock: five-thirty.
The things you have to do for some pocket money,
I sighed. I could easily have dropped back into a heavy slumber.
Come on Eddie boy get up! No money, no fun,
I reminded myself. I leapt out of bed, shivering.
My God, it’s freezing in this bloody room. I’m surprised I haven’t caught pneumonia yet.
Quickly getting dressed, I drew open the curtains, peering out into the street. The street lamps were still burning, casting ghostly shadows all over the shining-white frosty roads and pavements. I made my way down to the front door, quietly leaving the house. Having Mickey Mouse breakfasts in this house was a thing of the past. Egg, bacon and tomatoes were the order of the day and every Saturday in the market café, I would enjoy my cooked grub. I quickly walked up Lyndhurst Way towards the market. I noticed that parked up on the other side of the road was Bob’s milk float. He appeared from the front garden of number twenty-six, carrying empty milk bottles.
    “Morning, Eddie, bit parky this morning, isn’t it, lad?” he informed me, as if I was totally oblivious to the poxy weather.
    “Yeah, it’s atrocious. Mind you, it could be worse,” I said conversationally.
    “You’re probably right there, Ed. I’ve finished in this street. Fancy a lift up to the market?”
    “Yeah, Cheers, Bob,” I said, tiptoeing across, trying not to slip on the icy road. I jumped into the milk float, thinking what a nice bloke Bob was; a totally inoffensive guy and always smiling.
    “Save your plates for the day ahead,” Bob said, while pulling away from the kerb and heading up Lyndhurst Way.
    
Blimey! I could walk faster than this contraption.
    We slowly moved towards our destination. And I mean slowly!
    “Who you got today?” Bob asked.
    “Away to Swindon, Should stuff them,” I said confidently. “What about your lot, Bob?”
    “Carlisle at home. We haven’t won in fifteen games, so I don’t hold out much hope,” he said frowning.
    Now, for some unknown reason, Bob supported Bradford Park Avenue, the worst football team in the country. They would soon be relegated into oblivion. Why Bob followed them, I haven’t a clue; they were thrashed every week. Not like my super-hoops. QPR were lying second in Division Two, Nailed-on certs for promotion. The conversation on football dried up rapidly as we approached the market gates.
    “Thanks a lot, Bob, that was really kind of you, mate.”
    “No problem, son, don’t work too hard, will ya?” he said jokingly.
    “Not a chance, Bob,” I said, running into the market.
    “Morning, Toby,” I said as I strolled past the butcher’s.
    “And a good morning to you, young man,” he called, tipping his hat in my direction. I ran round the back of Laurie’s. My cap and coat were hanging on a nail. I quickly put my coat on and stuffed the cap on my nut.
    “Morning, Laurie,” I said, all cheerfully while walking through to the shop front.
    “Nice and early again, Ed. You do amaze me for a youngster.”
    “Why’s that, Laurie?”
    “Well, kids today don’t like getting out of bed. Mind you, you’re definitely an exception; you’ve never been late at all,” he smiled.
    After our short conversation, I started to arrange the fruit display, lining up cucumbers like torpedoes, filling up the tomato trays and emptying bags of King Edwards. After I finished, Laurie asked me to sweep the shop through, which I duly obliged.
    “Soon as Candy gets here, Ed, we’ll have breakfast.”
    “Yeah, that’s fine, Laurie.”
    I hoped she would hurry up. I was starving.
    Candy eventually turned up and Laurie and I went for breakfast down the market café. I enjoyed a hearty meal consisting of eggs, bacon, tomatoes and beans with two rounds of toast, followed by a large glass of Coke. I was stuffed and extremely satisfied with my breakfast.
    “That’ll keep us going for the rest of the day,” Laurie said happily, stroking his stomach with both hands in a circular fashion. We left the café and made our way back to the shop with a takeaway tea for Candy.
    During the morning, I was stacking crates of bananas in the rear of the shop when I noticed Laurie and Candy staring at me, watching my every move.
    “You didn’t think we would forget, Ed?” Candy mentioned, with a big grin on her face. Laurie was standing next to her smiling and holding a bag. I gazed blankly at both of them, wondering what the hell they were chatting about. My puzzled look startled them.
    “Well?” Candy said.
    “Well what?” I said, all confused.
    “Pass me that calendar, Candy,” Laurie asked, holding out his hand. He flipped the pages. “I wrote it down on here somewhere,” he reckoned. “Here we are, I knew I’d written it down, Look.” he shoved the calendar in front of Candy’s face.
    “That’s right, fifteenth of February,” she chimed. “Happy birthday, Eddie!”
    I was gobsmacked; fucking hell, I’d forgotten my own birthday!
    “Here you are Ed, Just a small token of our thanks,” he handed me a bag and inside was a card with a lovely written inscription. I then pulled out a present wrapped in blue paper, slowly unwrapping the paper until my eyes nearly popped at the sight of a blue and white hooped QPR top.
    I was flabbergasted, completely shell-shocked! I stood staring at the shirt in amazement.
    “Do you like it?” Laurie said smiling. “You can thank Candy. It was her suggestion to get you that. I was going to get something completely different.”