The two girls giggle about the DJ they fancy from last night, paying no attention my way, as I browse the designer clothes. Still, I keep them in my peripheral vision. Ambient music echoes around the concrete floor, mirrored walls, and glass brick counter, where they stand facing each other. I might as well be invisible.
Finding the top, I’m looking for, I pull it out and hold it against me. It’s the right size. I push the hanger back in while releasing the fabric, so it lands on the floor beside Paul.
Paul is crawling along the floor at my feet out of sight. He has a small magnetic machine that unclips the tags from the clothes. I stole the machine from another shop months ago, saving the clothes from the damage of using a screwdriver. Once he gets the tags off, he starts filling the bags I’ve kicked underneath the rail.
We work our way around the store until we have everything on our list. Paul grins up at me and winks before sneaking out of the shop.
Ian and Dave appear at the doorway. Filthy, smelly, and wasted. Ian is swigging a bottle of Buckie, Dave has a lit cigarette. The stench of both fills the small store alerting the girls who turn in horror.
‘No, you, no, you can’t come in here.’
‘You can’t smoke in here.’
‘I’m calling the police.’
Dave reaches one of the girls and with the cigarette dangling from his lips, he grabs her hips and does a jig. Ian has gone in the other direction, touching a pile of folded jeans and burping loudly. Followed closely by the other girl.
The guys play their part well.
Gathering up the string handles of the bags emblazoned with another designer shop’s logo. I lift the bags and with my head held high, walk right out the front door with all the stolen goods.
Paul is waiting on me outside and we casually stroll to his dad’s pub.
Iron Horses is a gangster pub known as Ponies which is also slang for money, cheating or booze. Fitting and also easier to roll off the tongue like, ‘Get you at Ponies.’
It’s a shithole.
Cheap Lino protects the floor but can’t quite hide the stains from spilled drinks, sweat, piss and blood. Mismatched wooden chairs and tables scatter the cave-like space. Bare walls and the reek of whiskey and bleach complete what is an utter dive.
The bar is solid wood with baseball bats resting at either end to keep the drunks in order. I’m sure there’s a machete or gun too. The booze is under the counter rather than on display, so it doesn’t get stolen or smashed.
Thugs, wannabe thugs, and guys who think they’re thugs do business here. It’s not exactly invitation only but you better know someone or have a good reason to walk in the door. Especially if you want to walk back out again.
Ray is the real deal. He’s done time for murder, he owns this pub, a car lot, a money-collecting business, and other shady things I don’t know about. An ex-professional boxer, he runs a boxing gym and works with a lot of kids, keeping them out of trouble. Paul and his cousin Johnny both have Ray’s striking raven hair and cold blue eyes. Their beautiful looks somewhat disguised by the hardened expressions they wear. All of them bare-knuckle fight illegally and their faces have taken a battering. Small scars are worn with stupid male pride. I refuse to watch; I don’t want to see them get hurt.
I follow Paul through the bar into the private lounge. It’s better in here, despite the god-awful carpet and hideous wallpaper. He goes off to find his dad to pass on our loot. We shoplift for Ray’s customers, and he pays us a cut. I’m a bit shy around Ray, he intimidates me, so I take a garish cushioned seat with the guys.
While Paul is looking for his dad, his mum Tess comes over.
‘Breakfast?’ She asks. Without waiting on an answer, she places a full fry-up in front of us. Mine is a children’s portion on a smaller plate because I never eat much. I smile and say thanks.
She sits beside me and starts playing with my hair, alternating with rubbing my shoulder while chatting to Ian and Dave about the shops we hit this morning. It’s a nice gesture and affectionate, but my body tenses. I’m not quite sure how to respond to her. I don’t like being touched. By anyone.
Paul comes back in with Ray, and Theresa moves away. Paul takes her place handing me a wad of notes that I stuff in my pocket. I drain my orange juice and refill the glass with vodka from my bag.
‘Vodka?’ Paul asks quietly. If his dad hears, he’ll kick off.
‘It’s a cocktail.’ I tell him.
‘Aye? What’s it called?’
‘Vodka fuck the orange.’ I say and we chuckle.
Two wannabe gangsters have come in, they both look me over, leering. One of them winks at me. Everywhere I go men do this, or worse they try to chat me up. I’m like a magnet for creeps and scumbags.
‘Look at her again and I’ll break your fucking kneecaps.’ Ray shouts at them. Their heads whip back to him with mumbles of, ’Sorry boss.’
Ray might scare me, but I always feel safe when he’s around. Protected. Tess and I are the only females in here and it’s nice he looks out for me the way he does his wife.
I go back to poking the food on my plate in the hope it will disappear. I eat when I can, which isn’t often, and when I do, I get too full. Thankfully, Paul takes a sausage and potato scone and moves it to his plate. He knows Tess won’t let me leave until my plate is clean. She thinks I’m too skinny.
Butterflies dance in my tummy and heat sneaks across my face when I see Johnny walk in. Hoping and praying that he doesn’t come over to us, he drops into the seat right across from me and kicks his feet up on the table. Dark silky hair falls on his face. With a flick of his head, he tosses it back.
Johnny lives with Ray and Tess; his dad has been in jail as long as I remember, and his mum ran off.
Pretending to look in my bag for something, so I don’t have to talk to him. He ignores me anyway and gets right to the point with Paul. Stealing cars. He has a list, but some are hard to get.
‘I can help you on the first three mate, but the other two are tricky, best ask Kylie.’ Paul tells him.
‘Who the fuck is Kylie?’ Johnny screws his face up. When Paul thumbs at me, his icy eyes swivel to mine. ‘What the fuck kind of name is Kylie?’
I roll my eyes.
Paul enthusiastically answers for me. ‘It’s what we call her now, she looks like that hottie from Neighbours. Dead ringer.’
Everyone calls me Kylie and guys seem to think she is sexy and gorgeous. Does that mean I am too? Does Johnny think that?
Johnny is still looking at me. ’Nah, she looks nothing like her.’
It feels like I’ve been slapped, and I shrivel inside, to the point I could fit in my bag.
‘Ask my dad.’ Paul helpfully rescues me from further mortification.
‘Who do you think I got the list from fuckwit?’ Johnny’s eyes dart back to Paul.
Picking up my cigarette packet, Johnny pulls out a fag and sticks it behind his ear. Pulling another out, he tosses it in the air catching it perfectly in his lips like he’s James Dean. Standing up, he swipes my lighter and saunters off and back out the door.
I watch him go, wondering why a guy as hot as Johnny can be such an arsehole. Maybe it’s because he’s hot.
‘Would you guys just get together?’ Paul turns to me. ‘I’m sick of you two pretending the other doesn’t exist and when you do talk, all you do is argue. It’s obvious you want to jump each other.’
‘I don’t think so,’ I say defensively. ‘Johnny can have any girl he wants and I’m pretty sure he hates me.’
’Nah, he’s just being a cock because he likes you.’
‘You mean like a peacock?’
‘Aye, that’s what I said, a cock.’ He grins.
We laugh but I smack his arm. ’Stop saying words like that.’
‘Oh, the professional thief doesn’t like bad language!’
‘Just those kinds of words,’ I huff. ‘You know what I mean.’
He turns serious. ‘It’s cool, I do know, you don’t have to say it.’ He squeezes my hand under the table.
I don’t know what I’d do without Paul. I wish it was him I had a crush on.
‘I want that jacket.’ I say to change the conversation.
He knows the one I’m talking about. It’s leather, costs a grand and is wired up so no one can steal it.
‘Is it still in the window?’ He asks and I nod. He blows out a long breath of air. ‘We need a hammer.’
‘Paul, the window won’t break. Remember that time we drove a van through a shop window? We took the whole front, bricks and everything but the glass only cracked.’
He grins at me. ‘That was a good haul.’ Then he gets up and disappears.
I pour myself another vodka and light a cigarette. I feel Ray’s eyes on me and look over at him. His brow is creased, probably saw the vodka bottle. Not wanting to be such a coward, I try to hold his stare. I last a few seconds before I’m distracted by Paul, who nods at the door. I scurry in his direction like the mouse I am.
Later, when Paul goes off with his girlfriend, I go for a shower and sort out my clothes. I only wear things once, so I fill a couple of bags to give to my friend Sharon. I don’t have the room to keep everything.
Being alone is something I struggle with, and I have the rest of the day to fill. My safe space is the library. Stepping inside, I’m instantly comforted by the smell of books and the warmth. Waving to the staff, I go straight for the book I’m reading, it’s a biography of Sigmund Freud. Not an easy book to read, however, I feel it’s helping me work through some things.
Glancing out the window, watching it get darker outside. I’m reluctant to leave but it closes soon, and I need to meet Sharon.
Clothed in thousands of pounds worth of clothes, including a jacket that cost a grand, I head to the phone box where I hang out with a gang. It’s freezing but the smell of hash in the air makes me smile.
A good crowd is here already. A bin has been set on fire and some eejit is toasting marshmallows on it. Making my way around everyone to say hi. I do my usual, being loud and the centre of attention because I’m the party girl and I have arrived. It’s an act that would rival Dave and Ian’s distraction.
Christy is already so stoned his eyelids are barely open. He’s in the phone box ordering fake orders from the Chinese, which he will then rob on arrival at the house across the road. Stef has his favourite knife out. He says it makes him look like a cowboy and he’s trying to cut the strap off Sharon’s shoe. Those two say they hate each other but disappear together every night.
Is that what Paul was saying about me and Johnny?
Going over to Sharon, I ask if it’s still cool for me to stay with her tonight. It is, but she must be home for ten and not a second later. Plenty of time. I leave her my bag and the others I’ve filled with clothes. Her eyes light up and she pushes Stef away to look inside. I take a packet of fags and my vodka and wander off to the sound of her melodramatic screaming at the clothes as she pulls them out.
After a while, I’m struggling to keep up the pretence that I’m having fun. I feel bored. It’s the same old childish antics every night and I’m anxious to get to Sharon’s house. I can’t bear anyone else raving about how good I look. It’s just clothes and make-up deflecting what’s going on underneath.
Everyone asks about my leather jacket, wanting to hear the story over and over. Paul and I went to the shop and rather than footering about with the wires, I grabbed the whole mannequin, and we ran through town with it. Paul used his hammer to smash up the dummy and I unravelled the wires. It is a good story but…
I want pyjamas, bed, and a cup of tea.
Normality.
‘I need to talk to you,’ a voice in my ear makes me jump. Johnny’s voice. What is he doing here?
All eyes are on us. Dreamy looks from the girls and hard man poses from the guys.
Pathetic.
Turning to him, I can’t help feeling a little dreamy myself. His hair flops forward and he smooths it back with his hand. Taking a puff of a joint, he passes it to me, and I take a draw. So, I offer him my bottle and he swigs a good bit of the vodka before grabbing my hand and leading me down the lane.
I wait for him to speak.
‘Looking good tonight, Kylie,’ he eventually says.
‘I thought I didn’t look like her.’ I deadpan.
‘Aye, eh,’ he winces. ‘I meant that you’re better looking.’
‘Fuck off Johnny, don’t be buttering me up because you need help with the cars. I’m not stupid.’ I move away and he grabs my arm. ‘Don’t.’ I hiss. ‘I don’t like being touched.’
‘Sorry!’ He waves both hands in front of me, one of which has my bottle and I snatch it back. It’s nearly finished, as is the joint. ‘How many cars have you stolen?’
‘More than you ever have.’
‘Aye, Paul said that. What do you steal them for?’
‘Same as you guys, money. Not from Ray though. Sometimes it’s just for a laugh, burn it out before blowing it up.’
He’s nodding in agreement with me, and I start to thaw. I could talk cars all night. Soon, we’re deep diving into our fastest times from getting a screwdriver in the lock to driving away, maximum speeds we’ve driven and so on. I’ve never crashed, but he has, a lot. I’m by far the better thief and driver but then that’s why he’s here.
‘So, do you need me to help with the list?’
‘Not sure yet, I was just making conversation.’
‘What do you want then?’
‘I don’t know. You’re pretty cool and different, out of my league, but still.’ Smoothing his hair back, he then looks at the ground, and his hair falls forward again. He needs a Kirby grip.
I’m trying to process what he just said, so I don’t pay attention to him walking me backwards until my back touches the wall. My vision becomes obscured as soft full lips cover mine in a gentle kiss. I’ve never kissed before. Damn it, I should have taken Paul’s offer to practice with me. I have no idea what to do.
‘Is this, ok?’ He asks.
Is he being a gentleman?
‘I’ve never done it before.’
‘You’ve never kissed?’
Why did I tell him that? Now he’ll lose interest. He kisses me again for a while then I feel his hands under my jacket, just at my waist but I stiffen and push him away. ‘I can’t.’
’Sorry, I was just trying to hold you.’
We stand looking at each other. I feel so uncomfortable but at the same time, I know and trust Johnny, almost as much as Paul. The guy I grew up with, not the peacock.
‘It’s just a kiss Kylie. I won’t touch you unless you want me to.’
Taking a breath, I nod and can’t help a smile. Kissing felt good. Johnny’s face beams, he’s so handsome when he’s not being a sour puss. Although I do like his bad-boy persona too.
‘Can I kiss you again?’ He asks.
’Now?’
‘Aye, and other times too.’
‘Why?’
He laughs and gives me a brief kiss this time. ‘I want to kiss you every time I see you now. You could even be my girlfriend.’
‘Ok,’ I say.
Oh my god, Sharon! How long have we been in the lane? Does she know I’m still here?
Stumbling away from Johnny and out of the lane, my heart plummets as I look around.
There’s not a soul in sight.
Rain is belting down now, soaking me through to my underwear. With no one around and nowhere to go, I head to the park to find shelter. Johnny and I fighting plays over my head crushing me. How could he ever know what it meant to me that Sharon had gone. We called each other so many horrible names and said things that could never be taken back. I ruined everything. Then I ran away from him.
With the high from booze and drugs long gone, all I have left is a helpless weariness dragging me down.
Lost in my thoughts, I pass through the park gates.
Hearing a man shout my name, I turn and see Ray’s bulky frame looming towards me.
‘What are you doing?’ He asks as he gets closer.
‘I’m taking a shortcut.’ Lying comes as easy as breathing to me.
‘Not at this time of night you’re not. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.’
I look behind him and see his car pulled in at the gate. I can’t go with him; I don’t have anywhere to be lifted to. I shake my head and start to walk away.
‘Come on, get in the car!’ He shouts and I root to the spot, tucking my hands into my armpits so he can’t see me shaking from the cold. This is a situation I don’t want to be in right now. Softening his voice he says, ‘I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to make sure you’re all right.’
I want to laugh. I’m not all right. Haven’t been for years. Not that anyone has ever noticed. Staring into the trees, I’m hoping he can’t see the tears escaping my eyes and that the rain beating down on my face hides them.
He sighs and shifts around. ‘Look, I know everything. It came out tonight after I pulled the boys apart. They were fighting over you. Johnny told me what he knew, and I made Paul tell me the rest.’
‘What do you mean?’ I turn to him now.
‘You don’t have anywhere to live, do you? Your stepdad was abusing you and your mum kicked you out. You’ve been on the streets for over a year. Is that right?’
I can’t believe they grassed me up! I look back to the trees.
‘Don’t run sweetheart. Will you please get in the car? Tess is at home worried sick about you. At least get out of this rain.’ Slowly he edges towards me, and his arm tentatively comes around my shoulder. From what feels like an eternity of pretending and surviving engulf me and I break. I can’t hold it in. My face crumples and I let him pull me closer until my face presses into his chest and I’m comforted with the scent of Armani aftershave. I’m pretty sure it’s one I stole.
‘Are you going to phone the police?’ I sob. After a beat, I feel his laughter rumble against my cheek.
‘When have I ever given you the impression that I talk to the police?’ He sighs. ‘You’re only fourteen, so we need to talk about things, but you have a home with us. One you will never be asked to leave. If that’s what you want?’
Gripping Ray’s jacket for dear life. I manage to nod, and he holds me tighter. My fear of him now lost as he gives me a lifeline. I’m glad he knows everything. I’m glad he knows my age. Johnny is seventeen and Paul sixteen. I had lied to Ray and told him I was the same age as Paul. I’m glad he knows about my stepdad. I hope he kills hm. Slowly.
‘You should have come to me or at least told Tess.’
‘I couldn’t.’
‘I’m guessing you’ve been skipping some school since you’re in Ponies so often.’
‘I haven’t been since primary. No one noticed.’
‘I noticed. Tess noticed. We knew something was off but until tonight we didn’t know what.’
Peeling myself away from him, I look up at him with worry. ‘What about Johnny, he hates me.’
‘He doesn’t hate you, he’s as worried about you as the rest of us. He wanted to come with me to find you, Paul too but I told them to stay put. I’m not happy with them, they should have told me sooner.’
Guilt fills me as I think of the punishment Ray will dish out and it’s all because of me.
‘Come on, let’s go home.’
Home.
I’m going to have a home. No more showering at the swimming pool with the stench of chlorine stuck in my nostrils all day, all my possessions crammed in a locker. I’ll be able to keep clothes, wash them and wear them again. A bed to sleep in every night. I’ll still go to the library but I can maybe get a ticket so I can take a book home to read. Oh, and a bank account to put all my money in so I can save more.
It’s not far to the house and we drive in silence, both deep in thought about what this transition will mean.
Tess is at the front door with towels. We couldn’t be any wetter if we’d fallen in the river. I wrap one around my head and hold the other to my body. I can tell she wants to hug me but she’s trying to give me space.
Wait until she finds out I hugged her husband and kissed Johnny.
Paul is behind her, trying to judge my mood towards him. In the scheme of things, I couldn’t care less. Exhaustion, emotions, and brain drain have taken over. Mouthing, ‘It’s ok,’ with a slight smile reassures him.
‘What do you need love?’ Tess asks.
‘Do you have pyjamas, a bed and maybe a cup of tea?’
‘Your bedroom is next to Pauls, and I’ve already put pyjamas on the bed with some other things you might need. I’ll go and get you a cuppa now, both of you, you look freezing.’
Ray and I look at each other, he has a fetching lilac robe around his clothes. I smile shyly and thank him, as I realised I hadn’t yet. He comes over and hugs me again, adding a kiss to my forehead. ‘Go and settle in sweetheart and get a good night’s rest.’ He steers me in the direction of my room when I see Johnny.
We walk towards each other until we’re almost touching. He whispers that he’s sorry in my ear. I shake my head, ‘No, I’m sorry,’ I whisper back.
‘Are you still my girlfriend?’ He grins.
I roll my eyes. That’s what he’s asking out of this whole drama that’s going on?
‘Okay everyone, let Kylie settle in, you can see her in the morning.’ Ray says.
My mouth drops open. ‘Kylie?’
Ray shrugs, ‘It suits you.’ I gasp, then he adds, ‘and you do look like her.’
I can’t believe he watches Neighbours.
This short story was part of my English Literature and Creative Writing BA degree coursework. I was awarded a 2:1 in 2023. I am now studying for an MA in Creative Writing. I think the stories should be read, rather than collecting dust in my Mac. So, for fun, I’ve posted them in their original form, unedited and imperfect. Please feel free to share your thoughts below.
Oh, and some are autobiographical, can you guess which ones?
Carolyne
