Human Conditioning (7 page)

But Grant had secrets, Aiden
was sure of it. And he couldn’t trust him fully because of it. Grant had never
confided in him. He’d only dictated to him. All his life, Grant had insisted on
telling him what he should and shouldn’t do. When he had been younger, it had
been easier to swallow. He had listened, because he’d relished in the security
of knowing that someone was there, making all the decisions for him. But he was
a young man now; he needed to build a life for himself and make his own
decisions. Yet still Grant was there, expressing his disappointment and his
unwanted opinion!

When Grant continued to glare
at him, Aiden’s front dissolved. Grant was a large man, and as much as he
frustrated the hell out of him, he was still his senior and he was still
dangerous. It would be a closer fight these days, but Grant would most
certainly overpower him through experience alone. Even so, Aiden was never one
to back down. He continued to glare at Grant for a long moment then he snarled,
“Get fucked...” before retreating to his bedroom.

When Grant stepped into the
living room, Vivien stared wide-eyed at him and Duggie was watching the
television with a smirk on his face. They had heard the whole debacle.

“Seems like my son isn’t your
special boy anymore,” Duggie smiled deprecatingly. Vivien shot him a glare but he
merely shrugged and added nonchalantly, “Welcome to my world.”

Grant couldn’t speak. He was
enraged by the way he had been spoken to, but he was hurt and embarrassed and
his eventual response came from that overriding emotion. “I can’t do this anymore,
Viv. I’m sorry.”

Vivien’s eyes widened and Duggie
glanced at him with a trace of panic in his expression. “What do you mean?”
Vivien quavered.

“I’m mean, I’m done. He’s on
his own.” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath then announced, “You’re all on
your own.” And with that, he walked out of number 22 Carlton House with the
intention of never returning.

“Grant?” Vivien stood slowly and
stepped out into the hallway where Grant was no longer. She stared at the front
door, utterly bewildered. She turned and stared at her husband, her mouth hanging
open, totally lost for words. She couldn’t work out whether Duggie had grasped what
this would mean. If Grant’s funding ceased, they were fucked.

Duggie took a gulp of his
cider. “Turn the TV up, will you, love?” he asked nonchalantly.

A tidal wave of emotion – anger,
frustration and panic – flared up inside of her suddenly and she screamed, “
Do
it your fucking self
!” then she flew up the stairs, tears streaming from
her eyes.

Ricky Finn was the fastest around for breaking into cars
but, other than this particular expertise, he was generally as thick as shit
and couldn’t drive for toffee. Getting into a car and stealing the stereo or an
abandoned wallet was one thing, but being able to take the car away, do it up
and sell it on was quite another. Aiden
could
drive, though illegally,
and knew a bloke at a local family-run garage that had already resprayed and
changed the number plates on the Nova he’d stolen a couple of months back. So
he wanted to combine Ricky’s talents with his own to construct something far
more lucrative than twenty notes for a stereo and spare change in a wallet: he
wanted to offer Ricky Finn a split in sales if he agreed to team up with him to
sell stolen cars.

Ricky and Aiden sat on top of the garages running through
the middle of Carlton estate. The ‘twin towers’ loomed over them angrily
against the grey English sky. It was just starting to drizzle. Aiden lit up a
cigarette and handed it to Ricky then lit his own.

“Come on, Rick, all you have
to do is break into the cars, and you can do that with your fucking eyes
closed! I’ll be the getaway driver. I’ll sort out the plates, paint jobs,
sales, the lot... what d’you reckon, eh?”

“It ain’t the gig, Aiden, it’s
just that I’ve kinda already been approached,” Ricky replied with that same gormlessness
that his long, angular face always contorted into when facing an obstacle.

Aiden frowned and took a swift
pull of his cigarette. “By who?”

“Jason Ryan...”

“What d’you wanna partner up
with that cunt for?” Ricky shrugged. He didn’t have any other reason than that
Jason had asked him first. Aiden sensed this. “Look,” he pressed confidently.
“If I have a word with Jason, explain that I had been meaning to talk to you
about it for a while, would you reconsider?”

“I...”

“How much did he offer?”

“Twenty percent...”

Aiden nodded then grinned, all
bravado and charm personified; the true salesman. He approached everything he
wanted with the same cunning. He had a manner about him that lured people into
a false sense of security, a false sense of trust for the good-looking man-boy
asking them for a favour. He had convinced Lily Summers to go out with him in
the exact same way. She had refused initially, but it hadn’t taken long before
his charm obliterated her sense of reason and he convinced her that she
couldn’t live without him. It was time to do the very same to Ricky Finn. “If I
get Jason to back off... I’ll give you twenty-two percent
and
I’ll
guarantee
three sales a month. Bet Jason couldn’t pull that off...”

“I don’t want no trouble from
him though, Aiden...”

Aiden showed off his pearly
whites once more. “Ricky, this is
me,
mate. Jason won’t bother you when
I’m here to back you up!”

Ricky nodded. Having lived
just a block away from the Fosters all his life, he was well aware of Aiden’s
reputation for being a lairy bastard. Aiden had been brawling in boxing rings
and on the streets from a young age, so Ricky knew that Aiden was capable of
having his back if Jason did decide to kick off. “Yeah, alright, Aiden...”

Aiden patted Ricky on the back
and jumped down off the garage roof. “I’ll be in touch,” he called over his
shoulder as he swaggered away with a triumphant smirk on his chops.

Kate Foster had been listening to her mother and father
having intercourse downstairs for half an hour before she was able to go and
put something on for her tea. Kate rarely ate what her mother made. Vivien had
just two recipes under her belt, and she hated both.

Kate was fourteen years old. She
was tall, dark-haired and attractive, like her brother, and she was slender
with a substantial chest and long legs.

Having made herself fish
fingers and chips, she sat, still in her school uniform, eating alone when
Aiden came back to the flat. Duggie had already left for his usual visit to the
pub and Vivien had gone to the local off-licence.

“What are you so happy about?”
Kate asked when her big brother, who she adored, strolled in with a wide grin
on his handsome face.

“Things are looking up, sis!”

He whipped a chip from her
plate and she managed to slap his hand. “Make your own tea!” she smiled fondly,
and stuffed a piece of fish finger into her mouth. “Mum’s well stressed. She’s
gone to buy cigarettes!”

Aiden shrugged and took out a
plate from the cupboard. He began piling bubble and squeak
onto it. He
wasn’t fussed with his mother’s cooking either, but unlike Kate, he was too
lazy to make something for himself. He lowered himself onto a chair next to his
sister and began demolishing his food. 

Kate watched him with the
usual warm affection she had for her brother. Aiden had always looked after her
and she was grateful for every day that he was still around. She had the
feeling that he wouldn’t be around for much longer and she dreaded the thought
of having to live with her mother and father alone.

If they weren’t fucking, their
parents were at each other’s throats for one reason or another – usually money.
Between them, they earned a pittance, and with Grant vowing never to give them
another cent, they were struggling more than ever, but it didn’t stop Duggie
going down the bookies and pissing what little money they did have up the wall.
Kate was astonished that they still had food in the freezer.

The older she grew, the more
she hated her father, and the more he seemed to express his derision for her
and his entire family. When she had been much younger, she had received the
occasional slap from him – over the backside, across her legs or her head – but
things had got much worse. Nowadays, Duggie didn’t hesitate to swing his fists
at her. There had been occasions when she hadn’t been able to take PE at school
because it would have revealed the bruising inflicted upon her by her father’s frequent
acts rage.

Aiden saw to it that such
violence wasn’t inflicted on her whilst he was around, but Duggie was the
ultimate manipulator and always seized the opportunity of giving her and her
mother a good hiding when he had them alone. Her mother frequently exchanged
abuse for sex. The more she appeased Duggie in the bedroom department, the less
grief he gave the family all round. She was sincerely grateful to her mother on
that count. On any other count, however, her mother could be just as useless as
her father.

When Aiden was done with his
dinner, he asked, seriously, referring to Duggie, “Has he been rowing with you
today?” It was a daily ritual to ask and, today, the fact that both parents had
dispersed and gone their separate ways (and their mother had gone for
cigarettes) was a clear sign that something had kicked off.

Kate shook her head as she
chewed on her last mouthful. “No, it was Mum and Duggie. Then I had to endure
the other thing...” She rolled her eyes.

Aiden’s eyes narrowed. “She’s
a fucking pushover, that woman! She’d let him shag her in the street to keep
him quiet...” Kate didn’t answer. “So, he didn’t give you aggro?” Aiden pressed.

“No, I haven’t even spoken to
him.”

He nodded in satisfaction and
pushing his now empty plate away, he lit a cigarette. “I’m off out again. You
got homework to do tonight?”

“No.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You
sure about that?”

Kate sighed. “It’s only maths.
I’ll get the answers off of Jen tomorrow.”

A slither of a smile rose on
Aiden’s lips. “Right, I’m off,” he said.

“Where am I saying you are, if
they ask?”

“Tell them to mind their own
fucking business...”

“I’d rather not...”

He held his cigarette between
his lips as he zipped up his Adidas jacket. “In fact,” he mumbled. “Tell Duggie
I’ve gone to see Gina Watson...”

“Really? Gina Watson?” she
replied with a wrinkled nose.

“Don’t
you
start!” he scowled
with amusement as he made his way out of the room. When he got to the front
door, he called, “I’ll check your homework when I get back!”

The front door slammed shut
and, on a sigh, Kate stood and dropped her plate into the sink.

Later that evening, Kate
dressed herself in a short tie-dyed dress and black knee-high boots. She made
finishing touches to her make-up then sneaked down the stairs. Passing the
living room door, she caught a glimpse of her father slumped in his armchair,
staring at the television with a can in his hand. From the sound of it, her
mother was in the kitchen, as usual.

Opening and closing the front
door as quietly as she could, she stepped outside and trotted quickly across
the walkway and down the stone stairwell to the street below. Making a right
turn, she headed for the garages, where she hoped to bump into Adam Draper.

************

Aiden rapped on the front door of the Watsons’ flat. The
door opened after a few seconds and Gina Watson stood before him in a dressing
gown. Her hair was scraped up into a tight ponytail and she was wearing little
make-up. “You’re late,” she snapped, turning and strolling down the hallway,
leaving Aiden to close the front door behind him.

Following her into the
kitchen, he leant against the door frame and watched her flick on the kettle
and take a can of beer out of the fridge. She handed him the beer without
making eye contact and proceeded to make herself a cup of tea.

“You look rough,” Aiden
announced, cracking open his can, Gina’s foul mood having immediately stoked
his temper.

Gina didn’t bother to retort.
She
felt
rough and didn’t appreciate being reminded of that fact. Her
father had left for the pub hours ago, but the reminder of his fury was still burning
between her thighs. Her father had been abusing her sexually and physically for
eleven years and tonight had been no exception. Now, the last thing she wanted
was a rendezvous with Aiden and the only way to ensure it didn’t happen was to
make him so mad that he would leave of his own accord.

“What’s the matter?” Aiden
sighed with impatience.

“Can we do this another time?”

He stared at her, his thick
eyebrows furrowing and his jaw clenching with annoyance. “You are joking,
right?”

“No, I ain’t... just piss off,
will you?” she sighed, dropping her mug down on the counter and making noisy
work of getting the teabags out of the cupboard. “You can’t just switch me on
and off when you want to, Aiden, and right now I just wanna be left alone...”

Aiden was beside her in two
long strides. “No, it ain’t alright,” he replied quietly, his quick temper held
by a thread. “I’ve made a special effort to come here to see you tonight.”

She laughed. “Oh, please! You
came to get your fill then you’ll fuck off. What’s happened, Aiden, one of your
other birds cancelled on you?”

The kettle boiled and she
poured the hot water into her mug. He watched her, quietly seething. He had the
urge to grab the kettle from her and throw its contents over her pretty face,
but instead he decided on one of his usual forms of attack: reverse psychology.
“Have you been with someone else tonight?”