Class A (11 page)

‘Go up and apologise,’ Kyle said.

‘I better not,’ James said. ‘She probably wants to be on her own.’

James noticed the look he was getting off Nicole.

‘OK then,’ James huffed, standing up. ‘I’ll go and say sorry.’

James went upstairs. Kerry and Nicole’s room was at the end of the corridor. As James got closer, he started to bottle it. Kerry had a violent temper and he didn’t want to get on the wrong end of it. For the first time ever, James was happy to hear Joshua crying. He leaned into
Ewart
and Zara’s room, making sure they weren’t in there, then walked over to the cot and picked the baby up. Joshua rested his head on James’ shoulder and changed his bawling to a gentler sucking kind of noise.

‘Come on,’ James said, rocking Joshua gently. ‘Let’s find Mummy.’

He went down to the kitchen.
Ewart
was at the table.

‘Cheers for picking him up, James,’
Ewart
said. ‘Zara’s just gone down the shop for some bread.’

‘Get his bottle warmed up,’ James said. ‘I’ll take him into the living-room. He likes watching the telly.’

Ewart smiled at James. ‘Joshua still won’t let Kyle or the girls go near him. You know why I think he likes you?’

James shrugged. ‘Why?’

‘You’ve got blond hair, the same as me and Zara.’

‘Maybe,’ James said.

He carried Joshua through and sat next to Nicole on the sofa.

‘Look who’s here,’ Nicole said, grinning and wiggling Joshua’s big toe.

Since he’d been on the mission, James had learned something about girls: if you want them to like you, don’t worry about buying gifts, or saying the right thing, or where to take them. What you need to do is grab the nearest brat and stick it on your lap. Nicole, who’d been furious at James a few minutes earlier, shuffled up close to him on the couch.

‘You know, James,’ Nicole beamed, ‘some day you’re gonna make a really good dad.’

*

The stairs leading up to the boxing club had signed photos and newspaper cuttings of boxers James had never heard of on the walls. The door at the top of the stairs creaked and James got a nose full of thirty-degree heat and old sweat. About twenty guys were working out. Dark patches on their clothes, lifting weights, punching bags. James felt awkward, imagining they were all sizing him up, estimating how many milliseconds it would take to punch him out.

A massive guy stopped a set of crunches and started mopping his bald head with a towel.

‘New fish?’ he asked, looking at James.

James nodded. ‘I um …’

The guy pointed his thumb. ‘You want the back room, with the other kids. Try not to tread on anyone.’

James had to step over gym mats and bar-bells to get through. The back room was bigger, with twenty-odd boys aged between nine and fourteen working out. Two young coaches stood in a ring up the back, mucking about and taking punches off some little kids. James recognised Junior, Del and a couple of guys he’d seen around Thornton estate and at school.

‘You Junior’s new pal?’ a voice asked from behind.

James turned. The guy sat in a plastic chair. He wore tracksuit bottoms and a stained vest. His shoulders were a mat of wiry grey hair. Even though the guy was thirty years past his prime, he still didn’t look like a man you wanted to mess with.

‘I’m Ken,’ the guy growled. ‘If you’re here for the night, it’s fifty pence.’

‘Junior said it’s cheaper if I get a monthly ticket,’ James said.

‘Fifty pence for tonight,’ Ken said. ‘I don’t want to rob you. This is too much like hard work for most kids. They don’t come through that door more than once or twice. If you’re one of the ones who sticks it, I’ll take what you’ve already paid off the monthly pass.’

James nodded and dug some coins out of his shorts.

‘Go see your friend Junior and try to follow what he does,’ Ken said. ‘You’re here to train. That means you don’t stand around talking. You don’t mess around and you don’t make jokes. Any kid starts a fight without my say-so and I’ll give the nod to someone who’ll make them sorry. You got that?’

James nodded. ‘Don’t I get coaching or something?’

Ken laughed. ‘I sit here with my eyes open. Give it a week or so. Follow what the others do. When I think you’re ready, I’ll get one of the trainees to start you off with a little sparring.’

James wandered over to Junior.

‘Enjoy the lecture?’ Junior asked, grinning.

Junior, Del and a couple of other guys trained in a group. Everything was a competition: how many push-ups or crunches, how fast you could skip, how many times you could punch the hanging ball in thirty seconds. CHERUB training had made James fit. He could hold his own at everything except skipping, which he’d only ever tried in PE lessons years earlier. Everyone except James got a turn in the ring, either sparring with each other or getting coached by Kelvin and Marcus, the two brutal-looking seventeen-year-olds the club employed as apprentice coaches.

When they were all half-dead, the group piled into the locker room, showered off the sweat and put on fresh clothes. On their way out, Ken blocked James’ way with his leg.

‘You coming back?’ Ken asked.

‘I’d like to,’ James nodded, still out of breath. ‘If that’s OK.’

‘You’ve done some kind of martial arts training, haven’t you?’

‘Yeah, Karate and judo. How could you tell?’

‘You’re in good shape and you can punch,’ Ken said, ‘but a boxer needs fast feet as well. You want to be able to skip a hundred and fifty times a minute. Take this home and practise half an hour a day.’

James took hold of a frayed skipping rope. He stuck it in his carrier bag, on top of his damp kit.

Junior slapped him on the back as they went down the staircase.

‘He must think you’ve got talent, James. I kept coming here for three weeks before he said a word and my dad practically owns the joint.’

James couldn’t help smiling, though it was hardly surprising he showed promise after all the combat training he’d done at CHERUB.

‘You coming down the youth club with me and Del?’ Junior asked. ‘It’s packed out with girls, Friday night.’

The youth club was on the ground floor, under the gym. It was supposed to be a disco, but the music wasn’t very loud and nobody was dancing. James sat with Junior and Del on some slashed-up seats in a dark corner. There were plenty of boys and plenty of girls, but everyone sat in single-sex groups.

‘So,’ Junior said, ‘which babes are us three studs gonna snap up tonight?’

Del looked at his watch. ‘Not me. I’m off to work once I’ve drunk this.’

Del always had money and James thought it probably came from delivering drugs. He straightened up in his seat, sensing an opportunity to get information, but trying not to make it obvious he was prying.

‘Work?’ he asked. ‘At this time of night?’

Junior burst out laughing. ‘Ah … The voice of innocence.’

‘I work for KMG,’ Del said.

‘KM what?’ James said.

‘Keith Moore’s Gang,’ Del explained. ‘I deliver coke for Junior’s daddy.’

‘Who wants Coke at this time on a Friday?’

‘Not Coca-Cola, you
wazzock
,’ Junior said. ‘Cocaine.’

James acted like he was surprised. ‘Cocaine? Isn’t that seriously illegal? You told me your dad was in import export.’

‘He is,’ Junior said. ‘Imports drugs, exports cash.’

‘Hell,’ James grinned. ‘No wonder he’s loaded.’

Del went into his backpack. He pulled out a small polythene bag filled with white powder.

‘Cocaine,’ he explained.

James grinned as he took the packet and inspected it.

‘Don’t let everyone see it, you moron,’ Del gasped, knocking James’ hand out of the air.

‘Sorry,’ James said. ‘So how much is this?’

‘One gram in every bag. They give me ten grams at a time, then they ring me on my mobile and tell me where and when to deliver it.’

‘How much do you make?’

‘Fifteen per cent,’ Del said. ‘This is sixty a gram, so I get nine quid. If I work Friday and Saturday evenings, I can easily make a hundred quid. Sometimes though, like at Christmas, you get people loading up for office parties and stuff. I had this one guy who lived two streets away from me. He was buying ten grams at a time. Ninety quid for a ten-minute bike ride. It was beautiful.’

‘Do you blow all the money?’

Del shook his head. ‘I used to, but you end up wasting it all on junk. Now I only spend twenty pounds a week. I stick the rest in my savings account and when I’m eighteen, I’m gonna buy a ticket and go off backpacking.’

James looked at Junior. ‘So how come you’re always broke?’

Del burst out laughing. ‘This baby’s not allowed to go anywhere near drugs.’

Junior explained miserably. ‘My dad’s paranoid that he’ll get arrested. If I get caught with drugs, it gives the police an excuse to question Dad and search our house.’

‘That’s a shame,’ James said.

‘Tell me about it,’ Junior said bitterly. ‘My dad’s a millionaire and half my mates are making a packet selling coke. What have I got? Holes in my jeans and supermarket-brand football boots.’

‘Can’t you do it on the sly?’ James asked.

‘Won’t happen,’ Junior said. ‘The word is out. Anyone who gets me or
Ringo
involved in the drug business will be in serious trouble if my dad cops them.’

‘So you’re stuffed,’ James laughed. ‘You reckon there’s any chance I can get in on this delivery lark?’

Del shrugged. ‘I’ll go upstairs and have a word with Kelvin if you like. I don’t know if he needs anyone right now, but I can try and get him to set you up with a few bags of coke and your own phone.’

‘I’ve already got a mobile,’ James said.

Del shook his head. ‘You have to use the phone they give you, so the police can’t trace it.’

‘But there’s definitely a chance?’

‘I haven’t got a clue,’ Del said. ‘All I can do is put a word in.’

‘Thanks,’ James said.

Del stood up. ‘Anyway, I’ve got a nine o’clock delivery, so I better dive home and pick up my bike. I’ll see you two hard-up losers at school on Monday.’

James smiled. ‘Yeah, see you.’

‘I’ll be thinking about you sweating away on your bike in a couple of hours,’ Junior said. ‘When I’ve got my hand up some girl’s shirt.’

‘In your dreams, Junior,’ Del shouted as he walked towards the exit.

James shook his head, grinning in false disbelief. ‘I can’t believe your dad is a drug dealer.’

‘Who cares?’ Junior said. ‘Do you want to try and get off with someone?’

They both glanced around.

‘Look at that bird sitting by the Coke machine,’ Junior gasped. ‘I’ve not seen her here before.’

James turned around. He’d guessed it was Nicole before he even saw her.

‘She’s reserved for me,’ he said. ‘That’s my stepsister.’

‘You can’t get off with your sister, you pervert.’

‘
Step
sister,’ James said. ‘We’re not blood relatives. Why don’t you go for the one sitting next to her? She looks like a right dog.’

‘That’s my twin, you cheeky git,’ Junior said. ‘And you better not call April a dog again, unless you want a slap.’

April had her hair done differently from the surveillance photos. James hadn’t recognised her.

‘I tell you who else is good looking,’ Junior said. ‘Pity she’s already with someone.’

‘Who?’ James asked.

‘At the table behind our sisters. That Chinese-looking girl, with long black hair. She’s well tasty.’

James peered over. All he could see was the back of the girl’s head. Then she turned and he saw her in profile.

‘That’s my other stepsister,’ James gasped. ‘That’s Kerry. Who’s that she’s with?’

‘
Dinesh
Singh. He lives up my road. His dad runs a firm that makes those microwave meals for supermarkets. So, you want to go over?’ Junior asked. ‘I’ll go for Nicole and you can have a run at April. She’s not too picky, to be honest with you, so even you might stand a chance.’

‘Jesus,’ James said, feeling like his head was going to burst with jealousy. ‘
Dinesh
just put his arm around her.’

‘What’s the problem? Do you fancy all your sisters, or something?’

‘It’s just, Kerry’s really young.’

‘How old is she?’ Junior asked.

‘Twelve.’

Junior burst out laughing. ‘We’re twelve.’

‘Yeah,’ James said. ‘But we’re in Year Eight, she’s only a Year Seven.’

‘If you ask me,’ Junior said, ‘it’s none of your business what your stepsister is up to. But if it makes you feel better,
Dinesh
is a weed. Just go over there and slap him one.’

‘I’ve a good mind to,’ James said.

This was a total lie. Kerry would break him into fifty million pieces if he even thought about it.