Adele looked up at the building and checked the address on the scrap of paper clasped in her hand. Yes, she had definitely got the right place. She looked up once more, disturbed by the sight in front of her.
It was an old house whose bricks were mossy and discoloured. Some of them were cracked or had holes in them and most of those on the corners of the building were chipped. The roof was in a similar state of disrepair with slates missing, exposing huge lengths of beam in parts.
The house was an end terrace. The rest of the houses on the row were similar in design but better maintained. Its windows were boarded and Adele tiptoed around the side of the building in search of a way in. She took care to avoid the animal faeces that littered the weed-strewn path.
At the back she found a gate and pushed it tentatively. It creaked on rusty hinges and gave way to a yard, which was in a similar state to the front of the house. With a pounding heart she stepped inside and negotiated her way around the abandoned bike frame, broken bits of wood and other unidentifiable items on her way to the back door. It was slightly ajar.
Not wishing to take any chances, Adele pushed the door gently and called Peter’s name before stepping inside.
‘In here!’ he shouted.
She stepped inside an abandoned kitchen, the stench overpowering her straightaway. Mustiness and a pungent, offensive odour filled the dusty air. Adele heaved, her mouth filling with saliva. She swallowed down the urge to vomit and glanced around the room. It was dark and her eyes took a few seconds to adjust. She reached out to touch the wall and recoiled as her fingers grazed the slime that covered it in parts.
Several dated cupboards lined the walls, their battered doors either missing or hanging precariously. The room was full of rubble; plaster that had fallen down from the ceiling, and bits of brick. The walls appeared to be painted but the colour was nondescript and patchy in places where mildew clung to the ravaged plaster and exposed bricks. Everything had a dismal pallor; daubed in various shades of grey like an old black and white movie.
Adele moved on, treading carefully until she eventually entered another room where there was also little light. She assumed it was the lounge. Here the stench was stronger, suffused with urine, animal faeces and decay. Again she swallowed down the urge to vomit. She heard the wind whistling through the eaves and the constant drip of rainwater. The damp penetrated her bones and the stench clung to her clothing.
Adele’s eyes flitted to the far side of the room where she could hear the sound of chattering and laughter. She stepped forward. There was Peter, amongst a group of boys of a similar age all sitting on rickety old chairs and crates, sipping from cans of beer.
This room was also full of rubble: chunks of cement and bricks, empty cans and bottles, some chip shop cartons and a discarded apple core. She eyed the worn-out mattress in the corner of the room, which was sunken in the middle and littered with several used condoms.
‘Peter?’ she asked as her eyes focused on her brother.
The boys stopped talking and stared in her direction.
‘All right?’ asked Peter casually, as though this way of living was normal.
‘Yes; are you?’ she said. Then, feeling discomfort in the presence of the other boys, she began to waffle. ‘David’s sister told me you were here. I’ve brought you some food in case you were hungry. Are you all right?’
One of the boys sprang out of his chair and grabbed the bag she was carrying. ‘Give it here!’ he said before routing inside the bag and passing the food around the group.
Peter didn’t respond.
David, on hearing his name mentioned, got out of his seat and stepped towards her. Adele hadn’t noticed him at first and she could feel her back stiffen as he approached.
‘Here!’ he said, passing her a can of beer. ‘You might as well have some.’
Not wishing to offend him, she took the proffered can and tugged at the ring pull. Despite the stench inside the room, she took a tentative sip. The beer felt acrid on her tongue. She gulped it down, washing away the taste of dust. Although she surmised that the offer of beer was a form of acceptance, she still felt wary of David.
‘Come and sit down,’ said Peter, pulling up a battered chair next to him.
As she stepped towards them, a mangy cat brushed past her legs, startling her. She let out a yell, which amused the boys. Adele felt embarrassed as well as uncomfortable. She sat down beside Peter and rubbed at her leg, which was itching from contact with the cat. She guessed that the animal was probably the source of some of the stench.
‘Are you all right, Peter?’ she asked again.
‘Course, I am. I’m with my mates, aren’t I?’
She guessed that his bravado was intended to impress his friends rather than reassure her so she persevered. ‘I’ve been worried about you. My dad still won’t let you come back and I was worried how you’d manage.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I don’t need that stupid prick!’
Adele stayed silent. It was difficult to talk to him with his friends present. The conversation drifted, with a few of the boys complaining about their parents in support of Peter. Adele sat patiently, nervously gulping her beer. She got through the can quicker than she intended, her discomfort causing her to take large sips. David passed her another can.
‘Eh, I didn’t tell you about my dream last night,’ Peter announced to the group. ‘I had a stepdad in the dream and he was a right bastard.’ This drew the attention of the other boys, and Peter continued. ‘Yeah, he kept picking on me, so guess what I did?’
The others paused, waiting for him to deliver his punchline.
‘I killed the bastard. Fuckin’ slashed him to pieces. And it felt brilliant! A slash of the knife for every time he’d hit me. The blood was gushing out of him and he was fuckin’ screaming for me to stop but I just kept letting him have it.’
‘Stop it!’ cried Adele, the vivid description sending a cold shiver throughout her body. ‘That’s horrible, Peter.’
‘I can’t help what I dream, can I? Anyway, he fuckin’ deserved it, and it felt great.’
Some of the boys nodded and murmured their agreement. Adele wasn’t sure whether Peter was referring to the stepfather in his dream or to their own father but either way it was disturbing. Would Peter really do something like that or was he just showing off in front of his friends?
After a lengthy pause, he added, ‘I hate my dad, y’know, Adele.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I know he’s been bad to you, Peter, but that doesn’t make something like that right.’
‘For God’s sake, get a grip, will you? It was only a dream! I didn’t say I wanted to do it.’
Again, Adele stayed silent, her discomfort still evident. She waited until some minutes had passed then announced she was going. She hoped Peter would walk out with her; it might give her chance to talk to him alone. But he didn’t. Instead, David offered to see her out.
Adele was surprised at David’s change in attitude towards her. Gone was the hostility that she had experienced previously. It seemed to have been replaced with an urge to impress her for some reason. Perhaps Peter had had a word with him when he had thumped her a while ago, and he was now feeling remorseful. Or perhaps he had just grown up a bit.
She said goodbye to her brother and his friends. Peter’s lack of emotion at her departure saddened her. Was he still displaying bravado or had they really drifted apart so much?
As she made her way out of the dilapidated living room, David followed her. His gait was unsteady due to the amount of beer he had drunk.
He waited until they had passed through the kitchen before speaking. ‘How about, me and you, Adele?’ He winked lecherously at her.
‘What?’ she asked, shocked.
‘Y’know. We can go upstairs if you want.’
‘You must be joking!’ she cried. ‘What do you think I am?’
‘I thought you’d be up for it. After all, you went out with Gary Healey, didn’t you?’
‘So. That doesn’t mean…’
‘Aw, come off it. You must have shagged him. There’s no way he’d have gone out with you otherwise.’ He reached out and grabbed her arm.
‘Get off!’ she yelled. ‘I haven’t been with Gary. And what business is it of yours anyway?’
As she pushed David’s hand away, Peter dashed into the kitchen.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked.
‘Nowt,’ said David, stepping away from Adele and making his way back to his friends.
‘You all right?’ asked Peter.
‘Yeah,’ said Adele but she couldn’t hide the fact she was shaken.
‘What was he after?’
Adele blushed.
‘I’ll fuckin’ kill him!’ he said.
‘It’s OK. I think he got the message.’
There was an uncomfortable atmosphere between them until Adele broke the ensuing silence. ‘Thanks anyway.’
‘It’s OK. You’re my sister, aren’t you? Come on, I’ll walk with you to the street.’
He didn’t say anything more but those few words had been enough.