Hannah kept calling. I didn’t answer. She left messages – ‘Billie, I need to talk to you. Billie, don’t do anything stupid. Billie, please ring.’
They were ringing for an ambulance when I left. All he was trying to do was stop me, and I put him in hospital. That’s me, that’s what I am. A nutter. It’s assault now. I’m not even looking at the LOK. I’m looking at Secure.
You know what? I’m not doing time for anyone.
I do care, Billie. I’ll be there for you, Billie. Billie Billie Billie. Yeah, where are you going to be, Hannah – in the Secure Unit? Will you really? I don’t think so.
I turned the phone off.
I was on my own now. I went round to Star Burgers to see if Cookie was there.
I came round the back and pushed open the kitchen door. You should have seen his face – he never knows whether to look pleased or cross when I show up at work. I’ve been seeing him on and off since I was fourteen. He likes it how young I am. ‘Jail bait,’ he says. He’s twenty-five and he likes having a young girl, but he doesn’t like me hanging around with his mates at work because he’s scared of getting done. He shows me off to his mates at home, though. He has this friend, Jez, he hangs around with. They do everything together. Once, Cookie even tried to get me to give it a go with Jez – can you believe the nerve of that?
‘Why would I want to do that? He’s minging.’
‘Why not? It won’t hurt. He never gets a shag.’
‘No, Cookie. Bloody hell.’ He hasn’t got a clue. ‘Wouldn’t you be jealous?’
‘No.’
‘You’re an idiot. Why do you think he never gets a shag?’
‘Why?’
‘Because he’s minging!’
‘So? I’m minging. We’re all minging. None of us are exactly page three, are we, Billie?’
‘Speak for yourself.’
I didn’t go round there for ages after that. He never raised it again so I guess he got the message. I don’t know what he sees in Jez anyhow. He does everything Jez says. If Jez wants a beer, they drink beer. If Jez wants voddie, they drink voddie. If Jez wants a burger, Cookie says, ‘They’re in the freezer, mate.’ Then he goes and does it for him.
It was lunchtime, and he was that busy he didn’t have time to come out and talk. He gave me a tenner, though, and smuggled a burger out to me before he went back in.
‘I’m on lates tonight. Could see you later in the week, eh?’ he said. ‘Me and Jez, getting some beers in. Fancy it?’
That was Cookie’s idea of a good night out – beers with Jez, some weed, then half a bottle of voddie to wash it down. They really know how to drink, those two. I always get out of it dead quick, but sometimes you need to get off your face – like today, for instance. This might be my last few days of freedom.
I ate the burger and bought a magazine and a packet of ciggies with the money. I managed to nick a can of lager from the Spar along the road. I went to Statside and hid by the lock-ups, where I used to hang out with Jane and Sue. I read my mag and smoked my fags. I kept thinking about that kid I stamped on. All he was doing was trying to help his mate, and look what he got.
Later on, Jane and Sue turned up and we talked about the fight – the Battle of Betty, they were calling it. It’d made the papers. Apparently it’d even been in some of the nationals. They were dead chuffed. We went over it like you do – what I did, what they did, what the enemy did, how bad we did them over.
It was kinda fun but … not how it used to be. Fighting used to be my life. I’m not saying I don’t enjoy it any more, but it’s a lot harder, once you start thinking about the kids you stamped on for no reason. If I’m honest, though, it’s not even them I feel sorry for – it’s me. That’s pathetic, isn’t it? It was Hannah made me think like that, getting inside my head during personal-development sessions at the Brant. I went in there thinking I was the hardest thing on two legs and I came out just wanting to cry all the time. Personal development? Personal bloody tragedy. Once you realize that all you’re doing is digging a deeper and deeper hole for yourself it takes the fun out of it.
But the thing is, after that, you’re supposed to get better. You’re supposed to realize who you are and what you want and where you’re going and take control and be responsible and make something of yourself. And – I haven’t. Two years later and I’m worse off now than when I first met her. I don’t like my old mates; I can’t make new mates. I don’t like fighting any more. I don’t like anything.
She thought she was giving me something, but in the end she was just taking it away.
Sue let me kip on her floor that night, smuggled me in through her window after she went to bed. She wasn’t very happy about it. The next day, I hung around, copped another burger off Cookie. I wasn’t ready to go back and face the music. I was going down. I thought, I might as well sneak a few more days in while I have the time.
And – I had some business to sort out.
Katie. Doing all the housework and looking after Sam while that cow lies in her bed, drunk. In another year or so it’ll be Katie sitting out in the park, drinking beer and waiting to get locked up. And what was I doing about it? Stamping on some poor stupid kid’s nuts for no reason, when I ought to be sorting out that bloke Mum’s got round there, helping her booze away the child support.
That’s me all over – always doing the right things to the wrong people. I felt bad about that lad. How could I go round and tell my mum how to behave while I had that on my conscience?
I needed to put my own house in order. I might be a lot of things, but I’m not a hypocrite. I needed to tell him. I needed to say I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done it. I lost it. After that I could go round and hide out a few days at Cookie’s, get myself together. Then, when I was feeling more myself, I could go round and sort my mum out.
And after that … after that they could do what they liked to me.
I drank a couple more cans in the park, then I felt ready. I stubbed out my fag and got up. I’d start with the easy one first. See how I got on with that. Then my mum.