The Killing (13 page)

‘How’d you get that scar on your chest?’ Hannah asked, stopping her index finger a few centimetres shy of Dave’s blemish, as though his body was a beautiful ornament that she dared not touch.

‘I got a blood clot on my chest wall a few months back,’ Dave explained. ‘They had to put a tube in and suck it out.’

Hannah recoiled, ‘Yuk.’

‘Ruined my chances of a career in modelling,’ Dave joked.

‘I better put this shopping in the fridge before it goes off,’ James said.

‘Good idea,’ Dave nodded. ‘Why don’t you make us all a cup of tea while you’re at it?’

If Hannah hadn’t been there, Dave would have got a mouthful for being cheeky, but James headed into the kitchen and filled the kettle. As he stacked the food away, he looked over the fridge door and spotted Hannah in the doorway.

‘I can’t really stay,’ Hannah said. ‘I’ve got some homework I want to finish off before tonight.’

‘What are you up to?’ James grinned. ‘Hot date?’

Hannah shook her head. ‘There’s a big reservoir over the back of the estate. Loads of the local kids go up there when the weather’s nice. It’s just hanging out really, but you can come if you want. We’ll grab some booze and I’ll introduce you to a few faces.’

James nodded. ‘Yeah, for sure. So, I don’t need to dress up or nothing?’

‘Well you could lose the Arsenal shirt,’ Hannah said, putting two fingers into her mouth and gagging. ‘It could seriously damage my reputation if I’m seen hanging out with a
gooner
.’

The boys were eating
microwaved
lasagne in front of a TV with a crummy indoor aerial, when Dave spotted Sonya
Tarasov
walking past the window. He tripped over James’ feet as he dived out of the room, down the hallway and out of the front door. He jogged up behind Sonya and tapped her on the shoulder.

‘Hey Melanie,’ Dave said enthusiastically.

Sonya turned around. She was mousy and slightly overweight, with a circular face.

‘I’m not Melanie,’ Sonya said irritably.

Dave put his hands over his face and acted embarrassed. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he gasped. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just … You’re the absolute spitting image of a girl I used to go out with.’

James crept out into the hallway with his lasagne and listened while he ate. As soon as Sonya realised she hadn’t just been accosted by some weirdo and caught a glance of Dave’s handsome mug, she broke into a big smile.

‘That’s OK,’ Sonya giggled. ‘I’ve done the same thing myself.’

‘I should have known it was too good to be true,’ Dave said. ‘You know, I’ve just arrived and I don’t know
 
anyone
.’

‘You just moved here?’

Dave nodded, pointing his thumb back towards the front door. ‘Me and my little brother moved into number sixteen.’

Sonya smiled, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

‘So does much go down around here on a Saturday night?’

Sonya pointed through the gap between the buildings. ‘There’s the King Of Russia over there, but that’s usually an older crowd. If you walk past there and go across to the opposite end of the estate, you’ll come to the Queen of Russia. That’s more my kind of crowd and there’s a live band most Saturdays. I actually work behind the bar sometimes when it gets packed out.’

‘Cool,’ Dave nodded. ‘If I pop in later, maybe you’ll let me buy you a drink?’

Sonya bit the end of her thumb and grinned. ‘Sure, maybe I’ll even buy you one back.’

‘I’m Dave, by the way,’ he said, reaching out to shake hands.

‘Sonya,’ she replied.

Dave took her hand and grasped it gently. ‘It was good meeting you, Sonya. I’d better get back, I’m making dinner for my little brother.’

Dave strolled into the flat and closed the front door with an exuberant backwards kick.

James’ jaw hung open. ‘I can’t believe you did that,’ he gasped.

‘What?’ Dave asked innocently.

‘You
 
totally
 
got off with her. You’d never even met her before.’

‘It’s not so hard,’ Dave said. ‘I used to be scared when I was your age, but birds aren’t swamp creatures from the planet
Zog
you know. Just go up and start a conversation with them. You either get somewhere or you don’t.’

‘Still,’ James said, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘Just walking up to a stranger and getting off with them is
 
so
 
slick.’

‘Of course,’ Dave grinned smugly, as he picked his lasagne off the coffee table, ‘it does help if women find you totally irresistible.’

He swallowed a mouthful of food and did a gigantic belch.

‘Did you have to make me sound like a five-year-old?’ James asked as he settled back on the sofa beside Dave.

Dave looked mystified. ‘You what?’

‘
I’m making dinner for my little brother
,’ James quoted. ‘I wouldn’t mind, but I’m the one who took it out of the cardboard and pierced the film.’

*

Hannah had a couple of girlfriends with her when she rang for James. He recognised Liza
Tarasov’s
podgy features from police surveillance photographs Millie
Kentner
had shown him. The other girl was called Jane.

‘Jane used to live in your flat,’ Hannah explained, as James pulled shut the front door and set off along the balcony with the girls. ‘She moved down to a ground-floor flat on another block, ’cos her
nan
can’t handle the stairs any more.’

It was a ten-minute uphill stroll to the reservoir. The area around the man-made lake was a mixture of lawns and shrubs. Joggers and dog walkers used the paths and little kids played football or Frisbee on the grass while their parents kept watch. But the three girls led James away from civilisation into an overgrown area beside a quiet road. The only charming feature amidst the empty beer cans and car tyres was a fast-flowing brook that fed into the reservoir, but even that was partially dammed with rusted kitchen appliances.

James had read up on the history of Palm Hill. He knew a £3-million youth and community centre had been built after the riots, along with teen-friendly zones on the estate where kids could hang out without their racket disturbing residents. But over the course of his missions, James had noticed that kids his age tended to reject any place they were meant to go, in favour of some unsavoury spot where they could get up to all the stuff their parents had nightmares about.

There were about thirty kids aged between twelve and fifteen, mostly sitting in fours and fives. The atmosphere was mellow. A few of the younger lads made a racket as they whizzed around on bikes, but most kids sat in the long grass gossiping, as the sun dipped behind the houses beyond the field.

James’ mission priority was to chum up with Liza and Max
Tarasov
, but Hannah was a major distraction. She’d made a big deal out of telling James that she didn’t have a boyfriend, and they were having a really good conversation about everything from Premiership football to ways of getting out of homework.

Liza disappeared with a group of girls. That left James and Hannah sharing a can of Heineken she’d bummed off an older boy who blatantly fancied her, and Jane was feeling left out. Eventually, Jane got fed up and said she had to go home early to check on her
nan
.

A few kids stopped by to speak with Hannah and introduce themselves to James. When Max
Tarasov
reached over to give James a high five, it was 8 p.m. and he knew he couldn’t afford to miss a chance to pal up with his main target, even though it might endanger his chances of
snogging
Hannah.

‘You’re my balcony buddy, James,’ Max said. ‘It’s good to have another Arsenal fan in the neighbourhood.’

James grinned down at his shirt. ‘Seems like we’re an endangered species in this part of town.’

‘You
 
know
 
it,’ Max grinned. ‘West Ham and Chelsea scum is all you get.’

James was chuffed. CHERUB had set the situation up so that he had the best possible chance of getting on with Max, but sharing a football team made everything easier.

‘Me and a couple of other dudes are heading down to the off-licence to get more beer in,’ Max said. ‘You
wanna
tag along?’

‘I’ve got cash,’ James said, ‘but I don’t exactly look eighteen.’

‘We know a place. The owner would sell nerve-gas to a six-year-old if he thought there was a couple of quid in it.’

James grinned. ‘Does he have that in stock too?’

‘You can always ask.’

James got up. He glanced down at Hannah and caught resentment in her eyes. ‘I’m only going off to get some beers. You don’t mind, do you?’

‘Why would I mind?’ Hannah shrugged.

But she was all thin-lipped and stiff-shouldered. James reckoned she minded quite a lot.

‘I’ll get you a
prezzie
from the
offie
,’ James said, trying desperately to reconcile the requirements of his mission with the fit girl sitting in the grass. ‘Chocolate bar, crisps, whatever you want.’

This won Hannah around. ‘Get us a Coke, a half-litre one not a can, and a small bottle of vodka to mix it with.’

James realised that was going to cost him the best part of a
tenner
, but it was food money from Zara lining his pockets, so he let it slide.

Two slightly older boys led the way downhill to the off-licence. James and Max walked a few paces behind.

‘You’re a customer, James,’ Max said. ‘Getting off with Hannah first night out.’

James tried to sound as cool as Dave had a couple of hours earlier. ‘It’s confidence, man,’ he shrugged. ‘Birds aren’t aliens from the planet
Zog
. You’ve just
gotta
talk to them.’

‘Yeah …’ Max slurred. James realised his new friend had downed way more than the single can of lager he’d shared with Hannah.

‘But Hannah’s been weird since that whole thing with her cousin last year,’ Max continued.

‘What was that?’ James asked.

‘Hannah’s cousin, Will. He was eighteen. Total hash-head, burnout, hippie, freak. He fell off the roof at the back of our block. Everyone reckons he was so stoned he didn’t know where he was.’

James hadn’t seen anything about this in his mission briefing, but there would have been no reason to because it had nothing to do with the
Tarasovs
.

‘Was Hannah close to him?’ James asked.

‘Not especially,’ Max shrugged. ‘But Hannah and Jane were standing five metres away from where he landed.’

‘No
 
way
,’ James gasped.

‘Yes way,’ Max grinned. ‘Front-row seats to watch your own cousin turn himself into spaghetti Bolognese. Seeing something like that has
 
got
 
to mess up your head.’

It was a twelve-minute walk to the off-licence, but the owner was as good as advertised, letting James buy Hannah’s vodka and a six-pack of beer without missing a beat. He didn’t even have to ask the two older guys, who were both fifteen, to go up to the till.

It was nearly dark when they got out, so they took a slightly longer route back to the field, using the road instead of the unlit paths around the reservoir. James twirled the bag containing the cans of beer as he walked. Max didn’t say much, but James preferred that to the type of kid who never stops yapping.

They had to clamber over a shoulder-height wall to get back into the field. There seemed to be fewer kids about and the atmosphere felt tight.

‘Bloody hell,’ Max said bitterly. ‘What are
 
they
 
doing up here?’

James spotted the new arrivals: four beefy lads aged sixteen or seventeen. They wore jeans and boots and the two girls who were with them looked rough.

‘Are they from round here?’ James asked.

Max nodded. ‘They’re from the Grosvenor Estate, over on the other side of the reservoir. You don’t usually see ’em up here.’

James spotted Hannah standing about fifty metres away. She’d rejoined Liza and a couple of other girls and they all stood in a huddle. James split from the older lads and jogged towards them, with Max in tow.

‘Hey,’ James said. ‘Everything OK?’

Hannah looked edgy. ‘We were just waiting for you two to get back before we split. You know what that lot are like. They’re bound to start something.’

‘Shall we go to the youth centre?’ Liza asked.

A skinny girl called Georgia tutted. ‘That place is so lame. Ten-year-olds yelling their heads off and chasing around with ping-pong bats. Let’s just hang out on the estate.’

‘Yeah,’ Max nodded. ‘Grosvenor kids won’t come near our estate.’

‘How come?’ James asked.

Max giggled. ‘ ’Cos they’d get battered.’