Coronation Day. Kay Brellend

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ a circle, sucking desperately on a cigarette. ‘We told him ’n’ all, didn’t we, Vic?’ Vic nodded a vigorous response. ‘Took no notice of us. He must’ve gone up to start on that fucking gutter without even asking anybody to foot it for him …’ Billy tailed off, with a despairing shake of his head.

      Christopher touched his father’s scalp and felt hot stickiness on his fingertips. Having gently moved aside some of his hair he exposed blood pooling beneath his skull. An anguished groan tore at his throat. ‘I told him not to go right up it! Told him not to!’ he raged in a suffocated voice. He jumped to his feet and paced to and fro. ‘Vic, go and see what the fuck Ted’s up to. Where’s the ambulance? Go and see what he’s up to …’

      The sound of a distant bell calmed him slightly and he dropped back to his knees to soothe his father who’d started to cough and shake.

      ‘S’alright … listen … ambulance is coming …’ he whispered, grasping his father’s icy hand and giving it a tight squeeze. ‘You cold?’ Whipping off his jacket he gently put it round Stephen’s huddled form. The other two men immediately struggled out of their coats and offered them up.

      ‘Can I help at all? Shall I fetch a blanket to cover him? Do you need cloths or water?’ Kieran Murphy had just dashed across the road to offer assistance, having spotted the commotion in the street from his window. His wife appeared in the doorway of their house, holding Rosie in her arms while Kathleen clung to her legs, thumb in mouth.

      Vic threw him a dirty look and muttered beneath his breath, but Chris glanced over a shoulder and gave an appreciative nod. ‘His hands feel frozen. Blanket might keep him a bit warmer … thanks,’ he croaked.

      Kieran disappeared back inside the property and returned with a large blanket in a matter of minutes. He helped Chris spread it out and tuck it around Stephen before quietly retreating to stand with Noreen. Ted came racing back round the corner and stood gasping and holding the stitch in his side. ‘Didn’t know whether to stop at the chemist and get some stuff like bandages and paraffin gauze …’ His voice tailed off as he read his colleagues’ expressions. They all knew that bandages and paraffin gauze weren’t likely to be of much use.

      ‘Jayzus … now what’s gone on here?’ Declan O’Connor had just arrived in the street to check on his workforce. He’d noticed at once the little group gawping at the drama and had sprung from his van to run over. His crew had congregated along the road and were watching from a distance. None of them had come down to offer help.

      Christopher sprang up. ‘What’s gone on? What’s fuckin’ gone on? I’ll tell you what’s gone on, you bastard. Me dad’s come off a fuckin’ ladder and you know why? Because you bunch of thievin’ cunts stole the new one he should’ve been using.’ He gripped one-handed at the Irishman’s throat and squeezed hard while Vic and Bill tugged at his arms and torso trying to prise them apart. Ted crouched beside Stephen holding out his arms, trying to shield the invalid and prevent him becoming aware of the fracas.

      ‘It was untied from the top of his van and stolen, so don’t make out you didn’t know,’ Christopher spat though his grinding teeth, as finally his men dragged him back. ‘So he used this one and it’s only fit fer fuckin’ firewood.’ He shook off imprisoning hands and strode to the ladder. He saw at once where a few of the wormy worn treads had given way at the top and kicked out at it in violent frustration. ‘You’d best keep that lot away.’ Christopher pointed a shaking finger at the approaching navvies. ‘’Cos if yer don’t there’s gonna be murders here today …’

      O’Connor looked for a moment as though he might retaliate; his fingers were massaging his scratched throat, and his snarl had hoisted one side of his mouth up close to his nose. But instead he strode towards his men, arms outstretched, to pen them and prevent them coming any closer. A moment later the pikeys were retreating towards their own territory, throwing glances over their shoulders. They stood by the door of the house they were working on, and watched as an ambulance screeched around the corner and speeded up to the casualty.

      ‘Want me to go and let the guvnor know what’s gone on?’ Vic asked in a hushed tone. He gave Christopher’s arm a shake to gain his attention.

      Christopher had been crouching by the medical team examining his father, but now he slowly and wearily stood up.

      ‘Go and let Mr Wild know what’s happened, shall I?’ Vic repeated in a whisper.

      Christopher’s uncle was always known either as the guvnor, or Mr Wild. None of Wild Brothers’ employees was under any illusions as to who ran the show, or where familiarity ended.

      ‘Yeah,’ Christopher said hoarsely. ‘He’ll be at the warehouse off Holloway Road.’

      Vic nodded.

      ‘Would you tell him to let Pearl know?’ Christopher knew his father’s girlfriend would be distraught to hear the news but she’d be even more upset if she were the last to find out. He dug in a pocket and brought out his van key and handed it over. In seconds Vic was reversing at speed out into Lennox Road.

      ‘Woss gone on?’ a woman’s gravelly voice called.

      Christopher turned to see old Beattie Evans, who still lived in the street, hobbling towards him leaning heavily on a stick.

      ‘Me dad’s had an accident,’ he answered croakily. ‘Would you let me aunt know he’s gone to hospital when she gets back from the market?’

      Beattie nodded, mouth agape. ‘Bleedin’ hell,’ she muttered. ‘Stevie don’t look good.’ She glanced about at the stricken faces. The shortarse looked as though he was about to collapse, or throw up. And she could see why: he’d got his eyes fixed on the blood escaping from beneath Stevie’s head and trickling towards the gutter.

      Beattie had lived in The Bunk long enough not to be badly affected by the sight of a bit of claret. In Campbell Road’s heyday she’d watched men caving each other’s skulls in with iron bars. In fact, she’d seen Matilda Keiver, in her prime, put a poker over a bloke’s head when he wouldn’t pay his rent. But those days were gone and everybody had gone soft in her opinion. She knew that hot sweet tea often did the trick on such occasions. ‘Get anybody a cuppa, can I?’ she offered gamely.

      ‘Coming in the ambulance?’

      Christopher pivoted about to see one of the crew addressing him. They had his father on a stretcher in the back and were ready to go. He nodded and clambered in quickly. A moment later he’d sprung out again to talk to Ted and Billy.

      ‘Get everything under lock and key before you leave.’ He sent a stare of violent hatred along the road. ‘I wouldn’t put it past those pikeys to try and turn this to their advantage.’

      ‘I bought new ladders just a few months ago. I know I fucking did. I bought a couple of step ladders and a high reach, and I know you had ’em, ’cos I delivered them to you myself when you was working on that extension in Tooley Street.’

      ‘Yeah, I know.’

      ‘So why was he up a fucking worm-eaten old ladder messing about with gutters?’ Robert Wild turned a look of angry disbelief on his nephew. ‘If you needed more ladders why didn’t somebody just say so?’

      Robert and Christopher were standing together in the waiting room of the hospital, and attempting to keep their voices low during a fraught exchange. At intervals both men were darting glances at the double doors that led to the wards, praying that the doctor СКАЧАТЬ