Born Evil (12 page)

‘Meow, meow, meow.’

TIGER USED UP
one of his nine lives that day, saved only by a quick-thinking Mickey who had turned up at the flat to collect his nephew.

‘Bring the kitten away from the window, Charlie,’ he ordered.

Charlie laughed. ‘Puddy cat, puddy cat, puddy cat.’

‘I mean it, Charlie, don’t fuck with me.’

Charlie ignored his uncle. He was enjoyed terrorising the cat far too much to come away from the window.

Mickey decided a change of tactic was needed. ‘I’ve brought you loads of presents, Charlie. Put the kitten on the carpet and you can open them in the car.’

Now Charlie might be evil, but he certainly wasn’t stupid. Even at his tender age, he knew that anything his uncle bought him was well worth having.

Obediently, he stepped away from the window and dropped the terrified kitten on to the floor.

‘Meeow!’ he said, giggling.

Mickey grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the hallway. ‘I’m so sorry, Sharon,’ he said apologetically.

Sharon felt sick to her stomach at what she’d just witnessed. Fuming, she gave it to Mickey in no uncertain terms. ‘Look at the state of my kids! Don’t you ever, ever bring that horrible little bastard near me again. There is something very fucking wrong with that child and if I never see him again, it’ll be too soon.’

Mickey actually agreed with her. He felt totally embarrassed. Taking a wad of notes out of his pocket, he rolled off a hundred quid and handed it to her. ‘Take your kids out and treat ’em to something nice, eh?’

Snatching the money off him, Sharon breathed a sigh of relief as Charlie walked out of the front door.

Once in the front seat of his uncle’s Merc, the boy’s beady little eyes scanned the inside of the car. ‘Where’s my presents?’ he demanded.

Mickey started the engine and threw his nephew a look of pure hatred. What he had just witnessed had shocked him to the core. He personally loved animals and had no time for any bastard who hurt them. Deep in thought, he drove towards his mother’s house. How she and Peter were gonna cope with Charlie boy was anyone’s guess. Luckily for them, they had no pets.

‘I want my presents and I want them now!’

The sound of his nephew’s cocksure tones made Mickey see red. Deciding to teach the nasty little bastard a lesson, he took a detour. Pulling over in a secluded lay by, he turned to face the child. ‘If you ever, ever hurt another little animal like you tried to earlier, I will fucking kill you. Do you understand me, Charlie?’

Head bowed, Charlie looked at his feet. ‘Sorry. Can I have my presents now?’ he asked meekly.

‘No you fucking can’t! I’m taking them all back to the shop. And do you wanna know why I’m taking them back?’

A sulky Charlie didn’t answer.

‘Because you’re a nasty little boy who doesn’t deserve anything. Now, I’m gonna take you to stay at your nan’s house until your mum’s better, and I’m warning you … if you play her up or misbehave, you’ll have me to deal with. And I am not a person to mess with, believe me. If I hear any stories from Nanny about you being naughty, I will give you such a hiding you won’t know what’s hit you. Do you understand what I’ve just said to you?’

For once, Charlie was lost for words. Unable to meet his uncle’s frightening gaze, he sat in silence and nodded.

‘Good,’ Mickey said. Restarting the engine, he headed off towards his mother’s house.

‘Right, that’s the last of his stuff, Mum. If you’re short of anything, let me know. I’ve got Debbie’s key and I’m gonna go round the flat tomorrow with Big Steve and get all of her and Charlie’s stuff out of there. The last thing she needs when she comes out of hospital is to return to that shit-hole with all its bad memories.’

‘Where will she live?’ June asked, worried.

‘I’m gonna rent her a place, Mum, down this way somewhere. If I put a deposit down for her, the Social will cough up the rent. She’ll be happy in a nicer area, and it’ll be better for him too,’ Mickey said, nodding towards Charlie who was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping orange squash and nibbling on a biscuit.

‘Oh, you are a good boy, Mickey,’ June said, smiling. She was very proud of her strapping, handsome son and was as pleased as punch that he was taking matters into his own hands and sorting his sister out somewhere nice.

‘Why don’t you stay for a cup of tea, love? I’ll make you something to eat, if you like?’

‘No, you’re all right, Mum. Thanks anyway but I’ve had a long day and I just wanna get home. I might pop out for a pint with me mate later. Where’s Peter, by the way?’

‘He had a bad headache. He’s upstairs, lying down. It was probably the shock of me answering him back, eh, son?’ June giggled.

‘Right, I’d best be off now. I’ll pick you up early tomorrow afternoon, Mum, and we’ll go and visit Debs together.’

June hugged him. ‘Thanks, love. I rang the hospital about half an hour ago. She’s stable, but still out for the count. They’re moving her as soon as she comes round, putting her in a side ward.’

‘See ya then, Mum. ’Bye, Charlie,’ Mickey said, edging towards the front door.

Charlie sat in silence. He hated his uncle and wished he would die.

‘He’s ever so quiet, Mickey,’ June said, nodding towards her grandson in the kitchen.

‘He’ll be all right, Mum. He’s just had a lot to deal with, and he must be missing our Debs.’

June smiled. He was such a kind boy, her Mickey, so thoughtful. ‘Yeah, you’re right. I’ll make a fuss of him tonight, make him feel at home.’

After waving Mickey goodbye, she went into the kitchen and sat at the table opposite Charlie. ‘Your Uncle Mickey brought your toys over from the flat. Do you want to play a game with Nanny?’

Sullenly, Charlie shook his head.

Racking her brains as to how to cheer the child up, June tried to tempt him with food, asked him if he wanted to watch telly, even offered to show him his room and read him a nice bedtime story. Charlie declined every suggestion.

‘Why don’t you tell Nanny what you want to do then, love?’ she said, running out of ideas.

‘Don’t wanna do nuffink,’ came the stroppy reply.

Mickey rang Big Steve on his way home. On learning that Steve was enjoying a quiet beverage in the nearby Needle Gun, he eagerly joined his friend. He’d had the day from hell and was in desperate need of a pick-me-up. Not in the mood to get involved with the little firm Steve was boozing with, Mickey ushered him over to a table in the corner where they could talk undisturbed.

As he listened to his pal’s version of the day’s events, Steve shook his head in amazement. ‘Fucking hell! Is Debbie gonna be all right?’ he asked, genuinely concerned. Steve had only met Mickey’s sister once, but was worried all the same.

Mickey took a gulp of his much-needed pint. ‘Physically, the doc says she’ll be okay, but she’s been through such an ordeal that mentally it’ll take her a lot longer to recover. Hopefully, she’ll be fine in the end. She’s a strong character, our Debs. If anyone can get over something like this, she can.’

‘What you gonna do about McDaid?’

Mickey gave him a knowing look. ‘What do you think? I can’t do nothing yet though, unless he gets put in the Scrubs. Other than that, I’ll have to wait till they let him out … and when they do, I’ll have the cunt’s guts for garters. Make no mistake about that, Stevie boy.’

Steve stood up to get another round. ‘I’ll be right by your side, Mick. I’d love to give him a dig meself. Anyone who does that to a woman, especially the mother of his kid, deserves everything they’ve got coming to ’em. As for dangling his own son out the window, that’s beyond fucking belief!’

Steve ordered another couple of pints and some chasers then sat back down and listened to the drama of Charlie and the kitten. ‘Jesus Christ. Do you reckon he’ll be all right at your mum’s, Mick?’

Mickey let out a worried sigh. ‘It ain’t just the cat thing, Steve. The kid ain’t normal, mate. He’s like that fucking Damien out of that
Omen
film. He’s evil – takes after his father. Honestly, I ain’t lying, I’ve seen it all along. I mean, the only reason I used to splash out, buying him loads of presents, was to help our Debs. Inwardly, I’ve never liked the kid. He’s not a child you can take to, there’s something not right about him. He’s a spiteful little bastard. Nastiness runs through his veins. Honestly, Steve, I feel awful saying bad things about him. He’s my own nephew, for fuck’s sake, the first nipper in the family, but he’s horrible – and I mean
really
horrible.’

Steve nodded sympathetically. He could see his best mate had had a shit time of it, so came out with the only suggestion he could think of. ‘Let’s get out of here, eh, Mick? Come back to mine. I’ve gotta bottle of JD sitting at home. Let’s crack it open. You’ll feel better if you drown your sorrows.’

Mickey didn’t need asking twice. ‘Let’s go.’

Peter opened his eyes gingerly. Relieved that his migraine had now cleared, he headed downstairs to make amends with his wife. It had come as a complete shock when June had shouted and sworn at him. Once he’d got rid of their guests, he’d sat down and thought the whole situation through. He loved his wife immensely and the thought of life without her didn’t bear thinking about. That’s why, although he’d been fuming at first, he’d decided to swallow his pride and forgive her.

Being lumbered with her grandson was the last thing he needed. He couldn’t think of anything worse. Peter hated kids at the best of times. He’d only fathered the one himself and split up from her mother shortly after. He lacked practice and patience with them, but was determined to give it his best shot this time. Hopefully, June’s grandson would be a cute little chap, well-behaved and polite. Peter trudged down the stairs and walked into the kitchen to meet his house guest.

June had never been so pleased in her life to see her husband. The last hour had been awful for her, with Charlie playing up something rotten. He’d chucked the turkey sandwich she’d made him on to the floor, sworn at her and refused to go to bed.

‘Fuck Nanny, fuck Nanny, fuck Nanny,’ he shouted.

‘Oh, thank God you’re here. This is your Granddad Peter, Charlie. Be a good boy and say hello to him.’

‘Nooooo,’ Charlie screamed. ‘I want my daddy.’

Peter knelt down next to the distressed child. ‘Hello, Charlie. I’m Granddad Peter, and I’m going to be looking after you with your nana.’

Charlie screwed up his little face ‘Go away, I hate you! Bastard, bastard, bastard.’

As Peter looked at June, he struggled to contain his horror. ‘Charlie seems tired to me. I think it’s bedtime for the child, don’t you, dear?’

A flustered June explained that for the last hour she’d been trying to coax Charlie to bed. ‘He won’t budge,’ she said.

‘Oh, well, we’ll see about that, won’t we? Come on, Charlie, it’s nearly ten o’clock, well past your bedtime.’

Seeing that the child had no intention of moving, Peter leaned over to pick him up. If carrying him up the stairs was the only option, then so be it.

‘Nooooo, don’t wanna,’ Charlie screamed, wriggling like a snake as he was lifted from his chair. Peter had a hell of a job trying to carry the thrashing child up the stairs.

‘Cunt, cunt, cunt. Hate you, hate you, hate you.’

Peter was appalled by such language which belonged on the football terraces and not in his home. How did a child of that age even know such words? Disgusted, he put Charlie into bed fully clothed.

‘Get some sleep now, child, and we’ll talk in the morning. You are a guest in my house and will learn to do as you are told.’

‘Bollocks!’

Being a man of some influence locally, Peter was used to being listened to, agreed with, and obeyed. As Charlie’s spittle sprayed his face, he realised that tonight was a first for him.

Charlie smiled as he watched his Granddad Peter leave the room. ‘Silly Granddad, silly Granddad, silly Granddad,’ he chirped. Happy once more, he laughed himself to sleep.

CHARLIE’S BEHAVIOUR WENT
from bad to worse over the next few days and June was at her wits’ end. Peter had had a gutful after twenty-four hours, and had taken to working late at the office and popping to the pub afterwards rather than face seeing the child.

‘I’ll be home at nine from now on, dear,’ he told June. ‘By the time I return, I expect your grandchild to be tucked up in bed and out of my bloody sight.’

June did her best to charm and entertain the boy, but nothing seemed to please him. He was sullen, ignorant, uncouth and extremely ungrateful. June couldn’t wait to offload him and get her life back to normal. With New Year on the horizon, she and Peter had originally arranged to go away with some friends from the golf club, staying at a posh country manor. Obviously, they’d now had to cancel and had invited a couple of Peter’s local councillor friends over to the house instead.

‘I’ve told all our guests to arrive at eight o’clock, June. Please make sure your grandson is snuggled up in bed by that time, dear.’

‘Of course.’ She had been surprised he’d invited friends over at all, with Charlie on the premises, but had decided to keep her thoughts to herself. The child was so unpredictable, you could never judge what he was going to do or say next. She just hoped that the evening would go without a hitch, for Peter’s sake.

June spent the morning of New Year’s Eve practising her culinary skills. She loved entertaining and always pushed the boat out in the food department, forever trying out mouthwatering new recipes.

Mickey was picking her up this afternoon and they were taking Charlie up to the hospital to see his mum for the first time since she’d been admitted. Debbie had regained consciousness the day after Boxing Day and had been moved into a little side ward. She had been asking to see her son for the last few days, but because she’d been so poorly, June had decided against taking the brat up there before now. However, yesterday Debbie’s condition had apparently turned a corner and the nurse had told June that seeing her son would now do her the world of good.

‘Come on, Charlie, be a good boy. Put your coat on for Nanny. Your Uncle Mickey will be here in a minute to take us to see Mummy.’