Born Evil (9 page)

Charlie’s behaviour in front of his nan hadn’t exactly helped their relationship. Mickey didn’t seem to take much notice of her son’s naughtiness, but her mum was a different kettle of fish.

‘Hello, Charlie, does Nanny get a kiss?’ her mum would ask.

‘Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks,’ Charlie would reply as he galloped around the room.

More than once, June had pulled her aside about this. ‘I swear, Debs, that’s not normal behaviour. Whether you like it or not, I’m telling you, love, there is something terribly wrong with that child!’

Luckily Mickey always came to her rescue. ‘He’s all right, Mum. He’s just a proper little boy. He’s got the Dawson spirit, that’s all.’

‘Mmm,’ replied June, with a disdainful look on her face.

‘Mummy!’

Debbie’s thoughts of her family were interrupted by her son’s frantic scream. Charlie had bounced so high he’d gone head first into his wardrobe and was now lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Shit, Debbie thought. She’d just been about to prepare dinner and do a few jobs. She knew from past experience that once Charlie demanded her attention, she got very little else done. Chucking the chicken and potatoes into the oven, she went into his room, picked him up and carried him into the lounge.

‘Are you gonna help Mummy cook Daddy’s dinner?’

‘Nooooo,’ Charlie screamed. ‘Wanna play games.’

‘Okay,’ Debbie said. The veg would have to wait until Billy got home. Luckily, it was no more than fifteen minutes later that she heard his key in the door.

‘Daddy!’ Charlie yelled as he ran to greet him.

Debbie gave Billy a peck on the cheek, and told him to amuse their son while she sorted out the dinner. Cooking had never been her thing until she’d moved in with Billy and she was still no Delia Smith. Somehow, though, she’d managed to teach herself the basics and now did a mean roast, which was Billy’s favourite.

Billy tucked into his grub with a smile on his face. As he listened to the story of his son being excluded from nursery, he almost fell out of his seat with laughter. Hearing about Charlie showing the whole class his willy, Billy roared, put his plate on the carpet, sat his son on his knee and ruffled his hair. He opened a can of cider with one hand as he tickled his pride and joy with the other.

‘You’re such a top boy, Charlie. At least you went out in style, eh, wee man?’ Charlie laughed. ‘Do you wannae know a secret? Your daddy used to flash his willy at the teacher too.’

Watching father and son giggling together on the sofa, Debbie was seriously fuming.

‘You’re meant to be telling him off, Billy, not encouraging him to be naughty. It’s not funny, you know, when he behaves like that. It’s not you who has to go through the embarrassment of it every day, is it?’

‘Willy, willy, willy,’ Charlie shouted.

As he looked at Debbie’s serious expression, Billy’s laughter grew louder. He was well pissed by now. He had been in the boozer since lunchtime and consequently thought Charlie’s antics hilarious. In fact, he couldn’t wait to tell all the lads in the pub that his boy had flashed his cock at the teacher. How funny was that?

Debbie picked up the dirty plates, stormed out into the kitchen and slammed the door behind her. No wonder her son had behaviour problems with a father who encouraged his every bit of wrongdoing. Why, oh why, hadn’t she listened to her mother and Peter and chosen a better partner to have kids with? It was at that precise moment that she knew she was gonna have to do something, and soon. The longer she stayed with Billy, the fewer chances in life her son was going to have.

Going back to her mother’s wasn’t an option; Perfect Peter would strangle Charlie in five minutes flat. Deciding that her brother was her best bet, Debbie resolved to get Christmas and New Year out the way, then get in touch with Mickey and ask him to help her. Rubbing her tired eyes, she picked up the tea-towel and dried the last of the plates. She was nervous about her future, but convinced that she was making the right decision.

Debbie wasn’t a religious girl. As she put the plates away in the cupboard, she had no idea that Him up above had already dealt her hand. Getting away from Billy wasn’t destined to be easy. Downright impossible, maybe. But easy … no fucking way!

DEBBIE WAS AWOKEN
early on Christmas morning by an excited Charlie who’d decided to jump up and down on top of her.

‘Presents, Mum, presents!’ he screamed. Nudging Billy, so that he wouldn’t miss out, Debbie got out of bed, chucked on her old pink dressing gown, and shuffled out into the kitchen to make a coffee.

Three o’clock she’d finally got to bed that morning. It had taken her till that time to wrap all of Charlie’s presents. Thirty-two they’d bought him in total and she’d had to hide the bloody things next door in Sharon’s. Her son was a nosy little sod and would have found them weeks ago if she hadn’t kept them well hidden away.

Billy had brought over half of them home from the many pubs he frequented. Apparently, at this time of year the junkies and lowlifes were out thieving on a daily basis, and toy shops were an easy target for their thieving little hands. They would then go round the local pubs selling their hooky wares for cheap and cheerful prices. The likes of Billy would offer them puff, whizz or cash in exchange.

Hearing a commotion in the front room, Debbie rushed in and was dismayed to see that Charlie had already opened half of his gifts and chucked them to one side.

‘Now stop it,’ she scolded him as he lobbed a football across the room, sending the Christmas tree flying. ‘I told you to wait for Mummy, you naughty boy. Let Daddy get out of bed before you open the rest.’

Ten minutes later, a bleary-eyed Billy sat on the sofa in his boxer shorts, feeling as rough as old boots. He’d intended on having an early one last night, so he’d be nice and fresh for his fatherly duties today, but he’d ended up doing the exact opposite and hadn’t rolled home till four o’clock this morning.

As soon as the final presents were opened, Billy thanked Debbie for the jumper and jeans she’d bought him, slung his clothes on, and announced he was popping down to Andy’s to get her presents and another big one he’d brought for Charlie last night.

He returned over an hour later and handed her a fake Cartier watch, a bottle of hooky perfume and a stolen M&S dressing gown and slippers that were both far too big. For Charlie there was a large plastic car. Billy looked as proud as a peacock as he watched his boy pedalling around, knocking into all and sundry on his way.

‘That’s a bit big for in here, Billy,’ Debbie said, horrified by the monstrous-looking thing with which her son was gleefully bashing up the flat.

Billy put his arms around her. ‘Lighten up, Debs, it’s Christmas and he loves it. Nae matter about the damage, the furniture’s old anyway. Oh, and I hope you don’t mind, but I felt so sorry for Andy sitting downstairs on his own that I invited him up for dinner. The poor bastard has nae family nearby so I said he could spend the day with us.’

‘Whatever,’ Debbie said as she marched out into the kitchen to peel the potatoes and veg.

Andy was pleasant enough but permanently stoned and spent most of his days in his own little trance. He wasn’t particularly the type of influence she wanted around her precious son. Charlie had enough problems of his own without having any more. Deciding to keep her thoughts to herself rather than start World War Three, Debbie lost herself in daydreams of her brand new life. She would have a nice house with a big garden. Charlie would behave impeccably, at home and at school. Maybe she would get him a dog, a cute little puppy for him to play with and love …

Her daydreams were interrupted by a knock at the door. She wasn’t expecting any visitors so she guessed it was either Andy arriving or one of the girls from next-door. Looking through the peephole, she could see no one.

‘Surprise!’ shouted her brother as she opened the door. Debbie’s heart turned over. Her Christmas was destined to be shit as it was, without this. Laden with two big sacks full of presents, Mickey followed his sister into the kitchen and accepted her offer of a can of lager.

‘Sorry I couldn’t get round before, sis, but I’ve been so busy. You know how it is.’

Debbie was a bundle of nerves as she dragged her brother into the living room. He usually turned up when Billy wasn’t about and she knew that there was no love lost between them.

Mickey grinned. ‘All right, Billy, how you doing?’

‘Yeah, fine,’ Billy answered politely. Inside he was seething. He hated Mickey with a passion. Just hearing that cocksure voice wound him up practically to the point of no return.

‘What have you brought me, Uncle Mickey?’ Charlie yelled, bouncing up and down with excitement as he spotted the two big sacks in the hallway.

Mickey smiled falsely at the child that he’d tried, but was unable, to like. He was however determined to carry on his role as doting uncle, for his sister’s sake if no one else’s. ‘By the looks of it, Father Christmas has brought you enough as it is,’ he said, winding the kid up. ‘Maybe I should take my presents home with me and give them to some other poor little boy who hasn’t got any?’

‘Nooooo!’ Charlie screamed at the top of his voice. ‘My presents, I want them!’

Billy sat with a fixed smile while he watched his son open the expensive presents his shit-cunt of an uncle had bought him. Charlie leapt up and down with pure delight at his latest haul.

A toy garage full of cars; a robot that walked about at the switch of a button; a cowboy outfit which looked like the real thing; and finally an electronic train set with stations, people, warning signs … the whole fucking lot! Unable to watch any more, Billy was saved by a knock at the door and Andy’s arrival. He dragged his pal into the kitchen, handed him a can of Strongbow and downed his own in record time. He was furious, really wild, and needed to calm himself down.

Opening the kitchen window, he nodded at Andy to shut the door, requested one of his joints and leaned out of the window for a smoke, hoping to mellow his temper. He felt undermined once again, like he was the weak man in his own fucking house. He’d brought his son so many presents, but nothing could compete with the top-of-the-range stuff that Mickey fucking Big Potatoes had turned up with.

Billy flicked the last of the joint out of the window and took a deep breath before walking back into the living room. Debbie was calling him and he didn’t want to mug himself off, that would really give old Mickey boy something to get his teeth into. ‘What’s up?’ he asked.

‘Look,’ she said, handing him a wrapped up box. ‘Mickey’s bought you a present.’

‘Thanks,’ Billy said, ungratefully.

‘Well, open it then. Look at what he got me,’ Debbie said, her eyes shining.

Billy glanced at the expensive gold cross hanging around her neck from a thick gold chain.

‘Aye, that’s nice,’ he muttered as he tried to get the wrapping off his own present. Billy took one look at the gold hoop earrings inside and quickly shut the box. He knew without a doubt that Mickey was taking the complete and utter piss out of him, and was unable to control himself. ‘Earrings? Bird’s fucking earrings! Do I look like some kind of shit-stabber or what?’

Mickey gave him a cocky smirk. ‘Well, I knew you wore them,’ he said with assumed innocence, pointing at the two sleepers in Billy’s right ear, one of which had a cross hanging from it.

‘Not like these I fucking don’t!’ Throwing the box on the floor in temper, Billy grabbed Andy by the arm. ‘We’re off to the pub,’ he said as he stormed out the door.

Debbie was really annoyed with her brother. ‘Why did you have to buy him them, Mick? He’s not stupid, you know. He can see you’re taking the piss out of him. You’re bang out of order,’ she insisted.

‘What am I meant to have done wrong?’ he said, holding up his hands and still acting the innocent. ‘I knew he wore earrings. The ones he had looked old, so I bought him a new pair. I don’t understand what his problem is.’

Debbie sat on the sofa with her head in her hands. She didn’t need this shit, not today of all days. It was all right for her Mickey, he’d fuck off soon and have a decent Christmas elsewhere. It was her that was stuck here and would have to bear the brunt of Billy’s temper.

‘Cheer up, sis. What’s the matter?’ Mickey slung one arm around her shoulders. ‘You’re not frightened of the cunt, are ya? He ain’t ever clumped you, has he? ’Cause I swear, if he ever lays a hand on you, I’ll fucking kill him.’

‘Stop it, Charlie!’ Debbie screamed as her son rammed his new car into her legs for the second time. She felt ill with worry but had no choice other than to lie. ‘Of course he’s never hit me. It’s just that … oh, I dunno, Mick, sometimes I’m not sure if I’m that happy with Billy.’

‘Liar, liar, liar.’ Charlie leapt out of his car and viciously kicked his mother in the leg. ‘Daddy kicks you … I saw him. He kicks you like this,’ he said proudly.

Debbie grabbed her son, smacked him and put him in his bedroom. She couldn’t speak openly in front of Charlie. He had a strong bond with Billy, was a clever little sod, and would probably repeat her conversation word for word. Turning the telly up to drown out her son’s screams, she sat down again next to her brother, who looked concerned.

‘Tell me about this kicking thing then, sis?’

‘I swear, Mick, he doesn’t kick me. Take no notice of Charlie. He has an overactive imagination. I am thinking of leaving Billy, though. Charlie’s behaviour is going from bad to worse and Billy doesn’t support me with disciplining him. He laughs when he swears and encourages him to be naughty. He thought it was hilarious when Charlie got himself excluded from nursery school. I’ve got to get Charlie away from him or he’s gonna grow up into a monster.’

Mickey squeezed his sister’s hand. ‘Look, Debs, Billy’s a mug, a complete wanker, and you can do so much better. You don’t wanna be living in a shit-hole flat like this, and the area’s diabolical. Leave right now … come back to my flat with me. I’ll sort a place out for you and Charlie, somewhere decent in a respectable area.’

‘Thanks, Mick,’ she said gratefully. ‘But I can’t leave today. I couldn’t do that to Billy. Let me get New Year out of the way and then I’ll ring you. Billy’s got a lot of problems, stuff you don’t know about. I need to sit down with him and sort things out properly.’