Guns Of Brixton (23 page)

    'Course
not.'

    'And
they're expecting me for my tea soon.'

    'They?'
asked Mark, although he was well aware who they were.

    'Mum
and Dad. Well, he's my stepdad really, but I never really knew my real dad. And
my brother.'

    'What
happened to your real dad?' asked Mark casually although he knew he was
stepping on thin ice.

    'He
died,' said Linda. And by her tone he knew that she knew exactly what had
happened to him.

    'Mine
too,' said Mark, not digging any deeper.

    'I'm
sorry.'

    'I
didn't know him either,' said Mark. 'I live with my uncle and his wife now.'

    'Your
aunt.'

    'No.
See, he's not really my uncle. I just call him that. He was a friend of my
father's. They took me in.'

    'And
your mum. Is she dead too?'

    'No.
But she might as well be for all I see of her. She got into some bad ways.
Drinking too much. Running with bad men. She's married now, but I couldn't live
with them.' 'Why not?'

    'He's
a bit too fisty for my liking.' 'He hit you?'

    'Me
and Mum. I had to get out.' 'That's terrible.'

    'I
survived. But I worry about Mum. But she won't leave the bloke. He's had a few
warnings, but… well, you know.' 'What kind of warnings?'

    'From
my uncle. But Mum's soft… Anyway, I don't want to talk about it.'

    'My
stepdad's great,' she said. Then hesitated. 'Sorry.'

    'Don't
be. It's not your fault my mum's a bloody fool. You're lucky.'

    'Yes
we are,' she agreed. 'He loves me and Sean.'

    'That's
your brother?'

    'Yes.
He's older than me. Nearer your age.'

    'Almost
a pensioner,' said Mark.

    'Silly.'

    'What
does he do?' Mark asked. 'He's at college.' 'A smart boy.'

    She
nodded. 'So what do you do?'

    'I
work for my uncle.'

    'Has
he got his own business?'

    'You
might say that.'

    'What
kind of business?'

    'Leisure.'

    'And
what do you do?'

    'This
and that.'

    'You're
a bit secretive.'

    'No. It's
just that I'm more interested in you.'

    She
blushed again. 'I'm not that interesting.'

    
'
I
think you are.'

    'Tell
me something,' she said after a moment.

    'What?'

    'Why
did you come over to me last week?'

    Mark
thought for a moment. 'I told you that already.'

    'Tell
me again.'

    'Because
I thought you were beautiful.'

    She
shook her head. 'There are lots of beautiful girls in the world. Much more
beautiful than I am. Why me?'

    'That's
it. I wanted to talk to you.'

    She seemed
satisfied by that. 'OK. Listen, I've got to go soon. The books call.'

    'Can
I see you again?'

    'It's
difficult.'

    'I
know. I'm too old for you and you've got your exams. When are they? Next
month?'

    She
nodded.

    'But
I would like to see you.'

    'And
I'd like to see you too.'

    'Give
me your phone number.'

    'No,
I can't. It would be just too much of a problem. With Mum, you know. I know it
sounds daft, but I've never had a boyfriend. Not a proper one. I'm sorry.'

    'Well,
I can't wait for it to rain so that you'll take pity on me again. Summer's
coming.' She laughed at that.

    'I'll
give you my car phone number then,' said Mark. 'I'm out most of the time so
it's easier than leaving messages at home.'

    She
seemed impressed that he had a car, let alone with a phone in. Those were the
days before every hooligan had a mobile and they were still a bit of a novelty.
'I have to be around and about for work,' he explained as he jotted it down on
a piece of paper from her bag.

    'OK,'
she said and tucked it away in one of the pockets.

    'You
will call me, won't you?'

    'If I
can.'

    'Please,
Linda.'

    'All
right, I'll call, but I can't say when.'

    'Good.'

    'Now
I really must go.'

    'Do
you want me to give you a lift?'

    'I
can walk, it's not far.'

    'I'd
like to.'

    'All
right,' she said with a bit of reluctance. 'But you'll have to let me out round
the corner. If my dad sees me getting out of a strange car, it'll be the
Spanish Inquisition.' They finished their drinks and walked out into the
Croydon sunshine and Mark took Linda's hand as they went back to the car park
under the shopping precinct. She didn't object, and her warm fingers felt good
intertwined with his. She admired the brand new car he was driving and he felt
that everything was going his way. He put the problem of telling her how her
father had gunned his down in a dirty gutter to the back of his mind. As he
drove out of the garage he almost turned in the direction of her house before
he remembered that he wasn't supposed to know where she lived, and asked
directions.

    She
told him, and it just took a few minutes to get to the suburban streets on the
outskirts of Croydon where she asked him to pull in about a quarter mile from
her address. 'Call me soon,' he said.

    'I'll
try.'

    'Please,'
he said again, and he really meant it. He hadn't had such a happy afternoon
since before Bobby Thomas had come into his mother's life and she'd taken him shopping
up west for nothing in particular. Just a wander, as she'd called it. A look
around the shops, and an ice cream for Mark on the way home.

    'I
will,' she said and kissed him quickly on the cheek before jumping out of the
car and slamming the door behind her.

    He
watched as she trotted down the street in her high heels, her bottom swinging
provocatively in her tight jeans, and he knew that one day they would be
together.

    She
did call, but not for several weeks, and Mark had almost given up on her.
'Blimey,' he said, when he answered the phone and she'd identified herself. 'I
thought you'd left the country.'

    'I'm
going to soon,' she replied. 'Two weeks in Spain with Mum, Dad and Sean.'

    'Don't
get arrested,' he said. 'You know what Brits abroad are like.'

    'I
won't. I'm going to be a good girl.'

    'You're
always a good girl as far as I can see.'

    'Yeah,
well.' There was a wistful tone in her voice.

    'So,
to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?'

    'I've
been thinking about you.'

    'Have
you?'

    'You
stopped coming round.' 'You made it pretty obvious you didn't want me to.' 'I
never said that.' 'Not in so many words maybe.' 'You know what it was like…'
'No, I don't actually. You never let me get that close.' 'I'm sorry,' she said.
'It was exams, and Mum and Dad. Bren said I was barmy, and could she have your
number.' 'She never phoned.'

    'Because
I wouldn't give it to her. You'd've had her knickers off on the first date.'

    'Would
that have worried you?'

    'Course
it would.'

    'I
never would've guessed.'

    'Well,
it would.'

    'So
are the exams over?'

    'S'right.'

    'How
did you do?'

    'Pretty
well I think, but the results won't be through for ages.'

    'So
you're free now?'

    'More
or less. Until we go away.' 'Can I take you out then?'

    'It's
still difficult…'

    'But
can I?'

    'Suppose
so.'

    'Don't
sound so keen.'

    'I
am, honest.'

    'So,
let me take you for a meal one evening.'

    'I've
never been for a meal with a boy.'

    'There
was the Wimpy.'

    'That's
different.'

    Mark
laughed.

    'Don't
laugh at me.'

    'I'm
not. Tonight?'

    'No.
Saturday. There's a party for the girls. End of exams. I could go then, they'll
cover for me.'

    'Secret
Squirrel.'

    'No,
secret Brenda.'

    'She's
all right, that Brenda.'

    'I
knew you fancied her.'

    'I
fancy you.'

    'And
I fancy you.' So there it was. She'd finally admitted it, and Mark felt like
king of the world.

    They
went for their meal that Saturday. Linda looked even better than Mark
remembered, and years older than her age. When he took her home, before eleven,
like she'd promised her family, they kissed in the front of the BMW. But Mark
didn't force anything.

    They
dated all that summer, with the exception of the two weeks Linda spent on
holiday. She wrote him eleven postcards, which he kept for years.

    Finally,
on a warm September evening, Linda surrendered her virginity in the back of the
car. Mark was as tender as any nineteen year old could be, and afterwards she
cried, and he didn't know if she was happy or sad, and she never told him. She
smoked her first cigarette that night too, sharing a Silk Cut with Mark on the
drive home. 'Do you want to see me again?' she asked when they stopped at the
usual place, just round the corner from her house.

    'Of
course I do. Why wouldn't I?'

    'You've
got what you wanted, some boys don't. After. You know. So I've been told.'

    'I'm
not some boys.'

    'So
you do?'

    'Try
and keep me away.'

    'Because
we'll have to do it all the time now.'

    'No.'
• 'Why then?'

    'Because
I love you, Linda.' His mouth was dry and his hands trembled on the wheel as he
said the words.

    'Do
you?'

    'Since
the first day I saw you.'

    'In
the park.'

    'Yes,'
he lied. Although it had been before, at her house that morning, but he'd never
told her.

    'You
mean it?'

    'I've
never meant anything more.'

    She started
to cry again. Mark wasn't used to so much emotion, and he held her close. It
was all he could think to do. 'I love you too,' she whispered.

    He
could hardly believe his ears. 'Do you?'

    'Since
the first day I saw you.'

    'In
the park.'

    'Yes,'
she replied. 'In the park.'

    They
stayed close for what seemed like hours. Mark was as happy as he could ever
remember. There was just one problem. One day, and he didn't know when, he
would have to tell Linda that her father had murdered his. And he didn't know
how he was going to do it.