In Cold Blood: A Brother’s Sworn Vengeance. Julie Shaw

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СКАЧАТЬ further, then checked her teeth – which were white as white; the thing she was most proud of – and headed back downstairs into the hall.

      She slammed the door as she left, just to make a point. She felt angry. Defiant. Rebellious. Though she knew it was probably a waste of time as her parents probably wouldn’t even notice she had gone. After walking around the streets for an hour, she realised that she had been right. Nobody was about. Nobody she wanted to see, anyway. She thought about calling at her sister’s as a last resort. Though she didn’t particularly want to. She couldn’t stand Lyndsey – even though she loved her nieces and nephew – and knew all about her drugs and her thieving. She decided that she might as well go anyway – see if they were off school. Plus she was getting cold. It might be nice to go indoors for a while.

      She started to walk the familiar route when she thought she heard someone call her name. She looked around but couldn’t see anyone.

      ‘Titch!’ the voice called again. It was a man’s voice. ‘It’s me, love.’

      She looked across the road, finding it impossible to place it. It had seemed to come from there but there was no one on the street. Then something seemed to move at the edge of her vision and she looked up and realised she was across the road from Mucky Melvin’s. He was waving at her out of his upstairs window.

      Mucky Melvin was really old and really smelly; one of the people her mum and dad always told her to keep away from. She wasn’t quite sure why – though the estate kids always speculated about it, if any of them ever asked a grown-up, they got the usual answer: ‘Because I said so.’ She knew he was disgusting though, because the council had to keep coming up to his house to fumigate it and get rid of all the rats. Hundreds of them, apparently. He lived like a tramp. He barely left his house, but when he did venture out, all the kids used to torment him and call him names. Noncey Melvin, they used to taunt him, and Smelly Melly. She didn’t know what a nonce was, but she knew it was something bad. It was why they threw eggs at his house all the time too and, as Josie crossed the road, she could see the tell-tale streaks down the walls and the windows – only some of which still had panes of glass in.

      ‘Alright, Melvin,’ she said, stepping onto the opposite pavement. ‘What’s up?’

      He was leaning out, one hand on the handle of the window, his shoulder-length hair, which was greying, hanging in stringy curtains either side of his filthy face. He was wearing the same thick brown cardigan he usually did – the cardigan someone had once pointed out was the same colour as his few remaining teeth. ‘If I throw you some money down,’ he asked her, ‘will you get me some fags from the Paki shop?’ He pulled his features into what might have been a smile. ‘You can get yourself some sweets.’

      Josie thought about it. She knew very well that she was meant to keep away from Melvin. Her mum was always telling her she had to ignore him. Given today, this was what made her mind up.

      ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Chuck us it down then. How much can I have for sweets?’

      Melvin grinned. ‘You can have a tanner, but don’t be spending it on separates. I’ll let you have one of my cigs when you come back.’

      Result! Sweets and fags! Maybe this wasn’t going to be such a bad day after all. Cheered up, for the moment anyway, Josie skipped back from her errand at the Paki shop, carrying the cigs – a packet of Woodbines – and the promised sweets. She’d chosen a quarter of Yorkshire mixture because of how long they lasted. A delicious mix of glassy sweets that you could suck for hours. She took her time though, to savour the first, which was pear shaped. So instead of walking the way she’d gone to the shop, she used the back-garden route. It made sense anyway – just in case her mam or dad were watching out for her.

      She knocked at Mucky Melvin’s back door and shouted through the hole in the smashed glass at the side, shuddering automatically as she took in her surroundings. She’d never been round here before and felt a little sick and scared. What about the rats? They’d all be in here somewhere, wouldn’t they? There were certainly plenty of places for them to hide; the grass was massively overgrown, only flattened in small patches, where it had been used as a dumping ground for God knew what. There was currently an old, filthy armchair, what looked like a metal kitchen sink, and at least 20 overflowing bin bags strewn around. A playground, she decided, for all those filthy scary rats. She turned and banged harder on the rotting back door.

      ‘Melvin, it’s Titch,’ she called. ‘I’m back!’

      Instead of coming to the door, Melvin opened another upstairs window.

      ‘Good lass,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to fetch ’em up for me though, Titch, I’ve hurt my back. Just come up – door’s open!’

      Josie watched as he closed the window and disappeared. She sighed. This hadn’t been part of the plan and she stood on the doorstep undecided. Bleeding hell, his house stank, and now she had to go inside it. The other kids would take the mick if they even knew she had done his shopping, let alone actually gone in his house. Pulling a face, in advance of the stink that she knew would hit her nostrils, she took a deep breath as she turned the handle and stepped inside. And it was worse than she’d imagined. She felt immediately nauseous, seeing it and smelling it. What a bleeding pigsty it was. There was filth everywhere. Wallpaper was peeling from the walls, and someone had written all over them in red paint. Words like ‘nonce’, ‘Mucky Mel’ and ‘dirty bastard’ were scrawled over the entire downstairs room.

      ‘Hurry up, Titch!’ Melvin called down. ‘I’m dying for a fag. Don’t take all fucking day!’

      Josie had to swallow her nerves as she made her way up the stairs. The filthy, threadbare carpet stuck to the soles of her shoes, but she took her time, careful not to have to grab the handrail. She was beginning to feel a prickle of fear, and despite having her coat and scarf on she shivered as she realised that she could see her breath. God, this house was even colder than hers was. She wanted to hold her nose, so offensive was the putrid smell, but she was afraid that Melvin might catch her doing it.

      Reaching the landing, she realised she didn’t know where to go. There was one door to the left and two to the right, all of them closed. ‘Where are you, Melvin?’ she called.

      The response was immediate and she almost jumped up in the air, dropping her bounty, as a door shot open just to her left.

      ‘Boo!’ Melvin said, chuckling at her startled expression. ‘Come on in, kiddo. I have to sit back down. My back’s buggered.’

      Melvin’s laugh was disgusting, Josie decided, as she followed him back in. Like he had a throat full of phlegm that he needed to spit out. His feet were bare, and he had on some filthy, striped pyjama bottoms over which the dirty brown cardigan hung open. His face was wrinkled and, close up, she could see how much his greasy hair was matted. It was easy to see why the other kids teased him so much. He was mucky. Filthy, dirty, mucky. Like he hadn’t had a wash in a year. Josie didn’t want to go anywhere near him and flinched from his touch as she handed him his fags and her hand brushed his long, yellow-brown fingernails.

      ‘Hey,’ she said as he took them. She was anxious to be gone now. ‘Don’t forget you promised me a couple.’

      She waited impatiently, blinking to try and adjust her eyes to the dim room. It was the same room you could see from the street and as she glanced towards the window she saw that, instead of nets and curtains like most people had, there was what looked to be an old blanket blocking out the daylight. It appeared to be held in place by nails and had been cut up the centre so it could be moved apart, like proper curtains.

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