I take it Ste had summat to do with this?
I shrugged vaguely and Danny stood, walked outside. We didn’t talk for the rest of the night. The next day he left the house early and didn’t come back until it was well past dark.
I wanted to cheer him up and so I went shopping to a big discount place on the edge of Leeds. I don’t know why I thought doing that would make him happy; we’d never been into labels, not the way most of the kids round our way were. But that day I bought all sorts. Trainers and jackets and bags and caps. A great big padded coat for Danny with a huge hood that hid most of his face, and one for me, white with fur trimming the color of honey. As the numbers flashed up on the till, I half expected that I’d need to turn round and do a runner with the loot, but instead I pulled out the roll of cash from my pocket, counted off the notes like it was no big deal. When I got back that night I laid out all the presents on the sofa ceremoniously, grinning at Danny as he looked at each one.
Cheers, he said flatly, and I grinned even harder, pretended not to see the revulsion in his eyes.
That night, after I’d cooked our tea, I made vodka cocktails with a packet mix that tasted like melted sweets. I wanted us to talk like we used to, wanted to unearth all of Danny’s forgotten dreams. London, the royal gardens, our new life in Brixton. Jungle-covered mountains, cloud forests, propeller planes. Canoeing through tangled rivers, adventuring through the unknown. Sumatra and Indonesia and Borneo and the Philippines. All the places we would go, the things we would do.
It’ll happen, Dan, you’ll see.
Yeah, he said, the plate of food lying untouched in front of him, the cocktail curdling on the table. Yeah, all right, Neef.
Danny never asked me to stop selling and so I pretended like everything was fine. But there was a tension between us that was tight and new.
I’d been at it for a couple of months when he finally confronted me. The sun was out at last after months of cold and I was in a good mood, sitting on the floor in the bedroom straightening my hair, singing along to the radio blasting out.
D’you get a kick out of it then?
Jesus, you made me jump, I laughed, standing up to turn the volume down. Danny was leaning against the doorframe, the curl of his mouth turning me cold. What’s up with you?
Nowt. I just asked you a question, s’all.
I ignored him, knelt back onto the floor.
D’you like it? he said, taking a step into the room so that his shadow fell across me. The thrill of it? Workin with Ste?
What sort of a question’s that?
A pretty fair one, I’d say. You seem in a chipper mood since you started. And it got me thinkin. Must be that that’s makin you so happy.
I’m doin it fer us, Dan.
He snorted. You keep tellin yerself that, Neef.
When I got downstairs Danny was on his way out. Where you goin? I snapped, our argument still bitter on my tongue.
He crouched to tie his shoelace. Off to see me dad.
I stared at him, winded. I didn’t know you were talkin to him.
Now and again.
Why didn’t you tell me?
You never asked.
The anger surged in my chest and I bit down on the inside of my cheek, tasted copper. When will you be back?
He shrugged. Later on.
I craved a drink or a smoke or something—something—rubbing at my eyes with the heels of my hands. More than a year and a half had passed since I’d last seen my mam.
Does he ever say owt about Chrissy?
Jesus, Neef, Danny barked. When are you gonna get it through yer thick head? No one gives a shit about her anymore.