Having Fun
Christ, he was bored, he thought as he wandered around the small apartment. What a dump. Days filled with booze, coke and sex had blown him away at first, but honestly, the attraction was wearing thin and he was fucking knackered.
Freedom and lack of responsibility were all very well, but the novelty of sticking two fingers up to everyone had soon worn off. Paddy was used to work, discipline and order. For God’s sake, he had hardly had a day off since he was fifteen and he needed to get back to work. Not only that, he wryly admitted to himself, he missed his home comforts. It seemed the excitement of dirty sex on tap couldn’t make up for a clean shirt and a full English.
He caught sight of himself in the grubby mirror. Jesus, he looked rough. For a man who prided himself on his appearance, he was in some fucking state. It was time to go back to the real world, well, his real world.
He was pretty sure that no-one knew exactly where he’d been shacked up or with whom, and he intended to keep it that way. Chantelle was a brahma and if things were different, well? Who knows! But they were what they were, and if she played ball she’d be well taken care of. As long as he could make her understand there was no going back, her days at the club were over. Hopefully she would take this on the chin, but he couldn’t have a constant reminder of his indiscretion, or take the chance she would let something slip.
“Breakfast,” called Chantelle as she opened the door and placed two McDonald’s bags on the cluttered table.
“Not for me darlin’, I can’t stomach that shit under normal circumstances, but with a hangover like this . . . Fuck, no.”
“Drink the coffee and I’ll sort you a pick-me-up,” laughed his companion, all the while taking in the fact that he was dressed and his possessions had gone from the table, his keys and wallet.
“No pick-me-up, I’ve got to straighten out,” Paddy shuddered at the thought.
“Are you off somewhere?” she asked, frowning at the man in front of her.
“I’ve got to get back to work, sweetheart. I’ve stayed away too long. Not that being here hasn’t been off the scale, babes, but I have to go. Got things to do, people to see.”
“Yeah, of course. We both knew it wasn’t for real, just a holiday romance,” she laughed.
“Chantelle, come and see me at the club tomorrow morning and I’ll see you alright. I’ll sort you out, make things good.”
“Look, Paddy, you don’t have to do anything, and I know I can’t go back to work there. Some arsehole would put two and two together and make ten and then we’d all be in the shit. Don’t worry about me, I’m a big girl and I can get work anywhere.”
“Come in at ten and I’ll you fix up.”
As the door banged closed, she fell apart. Chantelle would never go cap in hand to anyone, especially not to Paddy Coyle.
Running downstairs and out into the bright sunshine, Paddy could hardly believe his eyes. The area was like a bomb site. What the fuck was he thinking of? And where the hell was his car? He dreaded to think what state it would be in, as he surveyed the number of burnt-out vehicles strewn about the green.
Fortunately, across the other side of the road, standing like a beacon and intact, stood his brand new Range Rover, surrounded by a small group of neighbourhood kids.
“We watched out for your car, Mr Coyle,” spoke a lad of about twelve.
“We took good care of it, sir,” piped up another gallus young chap.
“Yeah, we made sure no-one nicked it or keyed it. We done it in shifts.”
“Thanks, boys, and if I’m ever back down this way I’ll be sure to leave it in your safe-keeping.” Taking two twenty pound notes from his wallet, he handed them to the oldest lad. “Go get yourselves a McDonald’s or something.”
He jumped into the car, gunned it and sped off. There was no chance he’d have to fork out for his car again because he’d never be anywhere near this place again. Ever.
“Jesus Christ, Paddy! Where the fuck have you been? And look at the fucking state of you.” Michael was disgusted at the condition of his older brother; older being the operative word. Paddy looked like he’d aged ten years since he last saw him.
“Never you mind where I’ve been, I’m back now and that’s all anyone needs to know.”
“We all know who you’ve been with, but why? Bridget’s going fucking ape-shit, threatening all sorts.” His brother was furious at his disappearance but relieved to have him back.
“Don’t you worry about Bridget. She’ll be fine. And if she ain’t, fuck it, I’ll be off again.”
“Don’t say that, Paddy, it’s been blue murder. Fuckers chancing their luck, and Sean’s been on the trot almost as long as you have. I need you here.”
“Okay, okay, calm down. I’m off home to get changed and I’ll be back in a couple of hours, you can fill me in then. What about the McClelland pup? Is he still on the scene?”
“Yes, as far as I know.”
“Well, he’s first to get his arse kicked.”
Paddy made for home to face the music.