Peter looked through the spyhole in his front door before opening it. He was always careful who he let inside. With some of the activities he was involved in, it paid to be cautious. He saw a familiar face staring impatiently at the door waiting for him to answer. It was his contact, Spikey, and he was carrying a package.
Peter opened the door and indicated for Spikey to come inside. Without preamble, Peter nodded at the parcel Spikey was carrying. ‘You got ’em then?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, same price as we agreed,’ said Spikey, holding out the parcel and waiting for the money.
‘Hang on. I need to check ’em first,’ said Peter.
Spikey followed Peter through to the living room. He sat down and waited, his restless twitch bearing evidence to his habitual use of cocaine.
Peter tore open the box and pulled away the strips of paper that covered its contents. When he had ripped away the last of the paper, he whistled. ‘These are beauties,’ he said.
‘Told you they would be,’ said Spikey as Peter took out the first of the guns and played around with it in his hands, feeling its weight and sizing it up. He pulled back the trigger and pointed, causing an upsurge in Spikey’s twitching.
‘I take it they’re not loaded?’ Peter asked.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Spikey. ‘But don’t be taking any fuckin’ chances!’
Peter chuckled and pulled out the other gun revealing the bullets which were laid out in a compartment underneath. ‘Nice one. Looks like you got hold of plenty of ammo as well.’
‘Don’t be fuckin’ loading ’em here,’ said Spikey.
‘Don’t worry. As long as you say they’re in full working order, I’ll take your word for it. Besides, don’t wanna draw any attention to us, do I?’
When Peter had spent some time toying with the guns, he reached inside his pocket for the cash and handed it over to Spikey. He noticed Spikey’s shaking hand as he grabbed at it. Without waiting for Peter to lead him to the door, he left the flat. Peter followed him anyway just to make sure he’d shut the door after him. He sniggered as he peeped through the spyhole and watched Spikey rush off into the distance.
He’d known the guns would be kosher but he couldn’t resist making Spikey sweat a bit before he handed over the cash. It amused him to see Spikey twitch, and it paid to make sure he stayed in line. Peter liked to let people know who was in charge.
Once Spikey had gone, Peter concealed the guns where nobody would find them and went into the living room to make a call.
‘Hi Dave,’ he said when David answered the phone. ‘They’re here, and they’re good uns too. When you free?’
He listened to David before responding, ‘OK, sounds good. Meet me here and we’ll make the arrangements.’
When Peter put down the phone, a smile lit up his face. He’d been thinking about acquiring some guns for a while. A knife wasn’t enough anymore and he’d had his fill of have-a-go heroes thinking they could take him on. One guy had even kicked the knife out of his hand, leaving him with no choice but to abandon the job. These guns would change everything. Nobody pissed you about when you had a gun. And, apart from letting the targets know who was boss, word would soon get out around the criminal fraternity. Peter Robinson was moving up a league. He and David now had guns, and they weren’t afraid to use them.
*
Adele was regretting her decision to have Sunday dinner with her mother again, but she’d been at a loose end. She was already feeling down since her split with John a few days previously, but the atmosphere inside her mother’s home only made matters worse. The stale aroma hit her as soon as she walked in. She followed her mother into the kitchen where she was busy sorting the washing.
Adele felt a pang of irritation as she looked at the washing stacked around the room. It was everywhere. Piles on chairs, some on the sideboard and dirty washing in two heaps on the floor. She was disconcerted to see that her mother hadn’t started the dinner yet and instinctively knew what was required of her.
‘Come on, let’s get these sorted,’ she said, lifting a pile of dry, clean washing off the chair nearest to her. ‘Then I’ll help you start the dinner.’
‘It’s OK, love,’ said Shirley. ‘I’ll sort these; I know where I’m up to with them. But you wouldn’t be a love and start the veg for me, would you?’
Adele sighed heavily and moved over to the sink where she filled the bowl with water and threw the vegetables into it ready to wash and cut them.
‘You don’t seem so bright,’ said Shirley after several seconds.
Adele sighed again, ‘I’ve split up with John,’ she said.
‘Oh you haven’t, love? What happened?’
‘He’s left me to go and work in London.’ She didn’t mention how she’d lashed out at him. Her mother didn’t need to know that.
‘Didn’t he ask you to go with him?’ her mother asked.
‘Yeah, but I couldn’t go, and he wouldn’t stay here. So that’s that.’
‘Oh, I am sorry, love. I’ll make you a cuppa when I’ve finished sorting these,’ said Shirley. She didn’t ask why Adele couldn’t go to London. It was as though she already knew the answer.
Adele grunted in response and continued preparing the veg. She could feel herself becoming annoyed at her mother’s lack of apparent interest. The offer of a cup of tea had irritated her even more. As if that could put everything right. What she really needed was reassurance; someone to tell her everything would be OK. But she knew she wouldn’t get that from her mother.
Normally Adele would have made some excuse and left. But her mother had invited her for dinner and she hadn’t even started making it yet. Adele bit back her irritation; there was no point taking things out on her mother.
While they worked, Adele listened to her mother’s dull chatter. She couldn’t have been less interested in the lives of Shirley’s neighbours and their relatives. Adele wasn’t attached to any of them. But she nodded and made affirmative sounds in response to her mother’s gossip while her mind drifted. She became lost in thoughts of her broken relationship with John.
‘It’s such a shame; she was only fifty-four,’ Shirley continued. ‘I don’t know what her poor son’s going to do. Do you think I should go and offer to help him?’
‘Hmm,’ Adele replied when her mother paused.
‘What should I offer to do?’ she asked.
When there was a pause in conversation, Adele looked at her mother’s expectant face. ‘Eh?’ she asked.
‘Oh, Adele. You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said, have you?’
Adele’s eyelids flickered. ‘Sorry, Mam,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind.’
‘Aw come on, love,’ said Shirley, hugging her awkwardly from behind. ‘I’ll make you that cup of tea and we’ll have a sit-down. Don’t worry about the veg; we can finish it later.’
But Adele didn’t want to prolong her stay. ‘It’s OK, Mam. I’ve nearly finished. Just give me a few more minutes then the dinner can be cooking while we’re having a drink. What time’s my dad home?’ she asked.
‘Oh, you know him. He’ll be home when he’s home. It’s OK; I can warm his dinner up for him.’
But Shirley didn’t need to warm Tommy’s tea. He walked in the house just as they were serving it onto plates then joined them at the table.
Adele had to listen to her mother’s gossip all over again while she filled Tommy in on the latest happenings. He didn’t even grace her with a nod or a mutter. He just continued eating.
The only time he responded to Shirley’s gossip was when she added her latest instalment. ‘Our Adele’s finished with John,’ she announced in a matter-of-fact way.
Tommy paused and looked across the table at Adele. She glanced away, not wishing to share her bad news with him.
He sniffed, raising his right nostril till his mouth formed a sneer. ‘Ah well, you’re better off shut of him,’ he said. ‘He was a bit of a snob if you ask me.’
‘I didn’t ask you!’ Adele snapped. She could see her mother tense as she awaited Tommy’s reaction.
‘All right!’ he hit back. ‘Calm yourself down. There’s no need to take it out on us, for Christ’s sake! I was only saying.’
‘Well, I don’t need your opinions,’ said Adele.
‘What the bloody hell does it matter? You’re not with him now anyway.’
Shirley quickly cut in before the row escalated. ‘I don’t think your dad means any harm, Adele love.’
Adele looked at her mother’s pleading eyes and restrained herself. Now that she no longer lived under her parents’ roof, Adele didn’t fear her father as much. But her concern was for her mother. She knew that if she let the row escalate, her mother would bear the brunt of it once she had gone.
They ate the rest of the meal in silence; the tension in the air was almost palpable. Adele was glad when the meal was over so she could make her excuses and go. Back to her lonely home. She only hoped her father wouldn’t take his bad mood out on her mother once she had gone.