Kenny's mum says for me to come through. First thing I notice, there ain't no doors. Where the front room is, the back room, the kitchen – all through the passage, it's just empty doorways. She shows me in the front room, tells me Kenny won't be long. Carpet's this horrible sort of brown and orange colour. Mind you, it's like the whole fuckin world's brown and orange these days; our curtains – all of em, Nan's carpet, Auntie Ivy's shoes, Auntie Ivy herself, when she's had a day at Southend. Bloody everything. It's tidier than our gaff round here, but sort of empty. No photos on the wall like what we got over our place, no pictures, no papers, no comics all everywhere, no shit all over the floor like Becky's toys. I can't even see no telly. There's just a couple of armchairs, a wooden seat by where the door should be, and a three-bar electric fire. And that's off. Fuckin freezin in here, it is.
And there he is. Kenny's old man. Asleep in this tatty armchair in the corner, snorin like a fuckin warthog.
Kenny's mum says she'll get me a drink and some biscuits, sort of whisperin, lookin over her shoulder at the old man all the time, like she don't wanna wake him up for the fuckin world.
The old man's a weedy lookin fucker. String vest, army trousers. All of it filthy. And he's got these tattoos all up his arms and over his knuckles. Stinks of booze. Fuckin reeks of it.
I sit down on the wooden seat by the door.
Kenny's mum goes, backin out the door, not takin her eyes off him the whole fuckin time. Comes back a minute later with a beaker of juice and a couple of Custard Creams, by which time I've nearly gone and fuckin shit meself, I'm so scared.
She's nice, Kenny's mum. But the old man, it's like sittin in a cage with a sleepin fuckin lion. She asks me if I'm in Kenny's class at school, even though she knows I am.
I nod me head, mouth full of biscuits.
Fuck. The old man's wakin up. He's snufflin and yawnin and he's got his eyes half open and he's lookin straight at me.
'Who the fuck are you?' he says, right fuckin angry.
Eyes like piss-holes in the snow, he's got. He's scarin the shit right out of me, I can fuckin tell you.
Kenny's mum, she tells him, all shaky, I'm a friend of Kenny's, come round for tea. Hearin her say Kenny's name, his eyes go all black. Tells her he wants to know where Kenny is. Calls him a fat bastard. Never takes his eyes off me, though, he don't, long as he's talkin. Not for one fuckin second. Kenny's mum don't like him callin Kenny a fat bastard, and she tells him, but she's twice as fuckin scared as me.
'I said,' he says, his voice getting louder and harder, 'where is that fat fuckin bastard?'
Tears come in her eyes, and she gets up and goes. She fuckin goes. Fuck. I wet meself a bit and hope it don't show, and I drink me juice, just to have something to hide behind. I drink it down in one hit, and when I look up, the old man's gone asleep again. I take me chances, and sneak out in the hall quiet as I can.
Like I says, there ain't no doors down here, so I see right through to the kitchen. Kenny's mum's wipin her eyes and butterin some bread. I've half a mind to leg it out the front door right there and fuckin then, but she clocks me and gives me this sort of 'please fuckin stay' smile. I smile back, sort of simple, like, and look at the floor. I've really gotta have a piss proper, so I start up the stairs, hopin to fuck they don't creak.
***
It's dark up the stairs. No lights. I reckon the toilet’s the room on the right at the top, cos it's got a door, and it's where ours is at home. I do me business and come out, rememberin to wash me hands like Mum always says. The room next to the toilet's got no door, like downstairs, and it's all dark. I take a peek. Double bed, all nicely made up. There's a light comin under the door the other side of the landin. Only other door in the house, lookin at it, other than the shit-house. Gotta be Kenny's gaff. I make me way over. The stairs was all right, but the landin, the landin creaks like fuck. I know Kenny's heard me cos I can hear him movin about inside and there's a shadow movin across the bottom of the door and back again.
Kenny's mum shouts up tea's ready. Well, she don't shout, exactly, more sort of like whispers really loud, like Mum does when she's tellin me off somewhere quiet like the library or the Doctor’s or something. That sort of whisper everyone can hear, you know.
I'm waitin for Kenny. But he ain't comin out. I look over the bannisters, and his mum's waitin for us. I knock on Kenny's door, tell him tea's ready. The bed squeaks where he gets off, and he opens the door a crack. Room smells of piss and the floorboards ain't got nothing on em. Poor bastard.
I tell him again, tea's ready, but he don't say nothing, just comes out. He don't even look at me. We go downstairs and follow his mum into the back room where she's got tea on the table.
She says for me to sit down, pointin at the chair opposite where Kenny's gone and sat, and tells me to help meself to whatever I want.
There's jam sarnies, crisps – plain, not Twisters or Wotsits or nothing fancy like that – a plate of Custard Creams and chocolate Bourbons all mixed together, and a jug of lemonade. Kenny's mum pours some of the lemonade out for us. Kenny's already pilin up his plate.
I'm in the middle of leanin over for a Bourbon when Kenny's old man weasels in. Everything stops. He sits down next to me, opposite Kenny's mum. She asks him if he wants a drink and holds up the bottle of lemonade. I'm shittin meself all over.
He picks up the plate of jam sarnies and looks at her like she's gone off her nut.
'What the fuck are these?' he says, holdin the plate under her nose. 'Jam sandwiches? Jam fuckin sandwiches?' He don't stop. 'You call this fuckin tea?' he says. Then he Frisbees the whole thing against the wall. Jam sarnies and bits of plate all over the gaff.
Then he turns on Kenny. Leans over the table. Right in close. Tells Kenny to clear it up.
Kenny just sits there, head down, lookin at his plate. Come on Kenny, I'm thinkin. Come on. Just do what the fucker says. But he don't. Just carries on sittin there. The old man, he ain't havin none of that. He leans right over this time, grabs the back of Kenny's hair and pulls his head right back till Kenny's lookin at the ceiling.
'I said, pick em up, you fat, lazy, fuckin cunt,' he says.
Then he gobs in Kenny's face and pushes his head back so hard he comes off the chair. Next thing, Kenny's on the floor pickin up jam sarnies and bits of plate. But he ain't doin it quick. He's doin it like he's got all the time in the fuckin world.
It's all gone up a level now. The old man's really fuckin losin it.
'That's it, little porky, on your fat fuckin belly,' he says. 'You fat fuckin piece of shit.'
There's tears comin down Kenny's mum's face now. But she's just sittin there an all. Like Kenny did. I think about helpin Kenny out, but I'm shittin meself, and I can't take me eyes off the old man cos I dunno where he's goin next. Then Kenny's mum says something. Big fuckin mistake, that is. Tells the old man to pack it in. Hardly more than a whisper, like it's all she's got left.
'You what?' he says. 'You say something? You fuckin say something?'
Then he bangs her right in the face. Proper punch an all, like he's hittin a geezer. And I piss meself proper this time. Kenny's old girl falls back against the wall, holdin her face, blood pissin through her fingers. Then the old man plonks himself down in his seat, puts his head in his hands, and starts sobbin like a fuckin baby. Kenny's still crawlin round the floor pickin up jam sarnies and bits of plate, and me, I can't move cos I been froze to me seat the whole fuckin time.
***
And that was tea at Kenny's. I didn't tell Mum nothing. Said I pissed meself on the way home from school. She says not to worry, and gives me a kiss on the head. That's when I started bawlin me eyes out.
Come night-time, I'm lyin in me bed. Can't sleep. Been tryin to close me eyes for ages, but soon as I do, I see Kenny's old man cryin his heart out and Kenny shufflin about the floor pickin up jam sarnies, and all over there's the sound of his old girl screamin.
***
Mum and Dad's downstairs. Mum's laughin. Probably something on the telly or Dad's told her one of his stupid jokes, something he'd picked up in the factory or out the boozer. Becky's movin about in her cot like she can't sleep neither. She's breathin heavy, sort of two at a time, like she's cryin. But she's not. It's just how she gets sometimes.
Can't get Kenny out me head still, thinkin about him across the road, tryin to get to sleep. And I'm thinkin what I'd do if I was him. I know I wouldn't fuckin be puttin up with it, that's for fuckin starters. I'd be workin out how to have it away on me toes first thing, like that Dick Whittinton geezer. I'd do the old man in before I went, an all. Get a gun or something. Blow the bastard's head off.
The stairs start creakin. Door opens. Mum comes in to check on Becky, and I squeeze me eyes tight shut. I can hear Mum whisperin to Becky and singin soft, probably strokin her hair and her cheek, an that. She's right gentle, Mum. Then I can hear her footsteps comin over to me. I close me eyes even tighter. Don't wanna talk about what's in me head, you know, doin away with Kenny's old man. Mum feels me forehead, and gives me a kiss there. Then she gets a tissue and she's wipin me eyes and she's wipin the tears off me face. She cups her hand round me cheek, and I know she's lookin right into me. Gives me another kiss on the forehead and I know I'm cryin now cos I can hear it in me throat. But I won't open me eyes, not even for Mum. I'm willin for her to go. And when she does, when the bedroom door shuts tight and the lights go out, I want her back all over again, just so she can stop the screamin in me head.
***
As for Kenny, next day at school, all week, I got an empty fuckin chair sittin next to me.