ASBO: A Novel of Extreme Terror(16)

“So what is he doing around here? I’ve never seen him before recently.”

“He lives around here,” said Charlie.

Andrew shook his head. “No way. This is a nice area.”

“Used to be. Council brought some of the property around here for ‘social housing’. Remember my dad kicking up a big fuss about it at the time; got a petition going and everything.”

Andrew leant forward onto the counter and let the weight off his legs. “I can’t believe they would put someone like Frankie in a nice part of town.”

“Where else should they put him? Keep the poor with the poor, right?”

Andrew straightened back up. “No…I don’t know what I think at the mument. I guess I just thought all council houses were grouped together.”

Charlie shrugged. “I think that’s how it used to be. My dad said the Government wanted to space out council properties to avoid creating ‘ghettos’. That’s the right word, yeah?”

Andrew nodded. “Yeah, ghetto is right. Except now it seems that we’re all getting a little slice of ghetto to call our own.”

The shop’s door opened behind Andrew. Charlie performed her greeting smile as a customer walked in.

Guess everyone gets the smile. Not just me.

“Look,” said Charlie, leaning forwards conspiratorially. “Like I said, I don’t want to get involved. But I can tell you that Frankie lives somewhere on Tanner’s Avenue. I know because a girl who used to be my best friend is now a drugged-up skank, thanks to him. I haven’t spoken to her in months, but that’s where she used to go see him when we were still friends.”

Andrew nodded and said thanks, but the girl was already serving the customer, acting as though their conversation had never happened. Probably for the best, thought Andrew as he left the shop and headed home.

So Frankie lives nearby? Perhaps he has parents there? He’s still just a kid, so someone should be in charge of him. Maybe someone that has a little bit of control over him.

Andrew didn’t hold up much hope, but it was a possibility. Perhaps Frankie would leave him alone if his own family knew of his behaviour. Andrew considered making the journey to Tanner’s lane later that evening.

Maybe I can put a stop to this before anything else happens.

Andrew turned the corner. He lost his breath at the sight which met him. His bright red Mercedes had been modified. The expensive bodywork was emblazoned by coarse, black gloss-paint, spelling out words in several places.

The words read: pedo.

Pedo, Pedo, Pedo.

***

Andrew fell back into his armchair in the lounge and stared into space. The sound of his family’s voices was a distant droning, buzzing in the distance like irritated wasps. He was hearing their words but was unable to assemble them into cognitive meanings. Eventually he had to force his mind to return back to reality.

“…ell are they playing at?”

Andrew looked up at his wife, standing before him and shaking like a leaf. “Huh?”

“I said what the hell are they playing at? Who behaves like this? Animals!”

Andrew leant his head back against the armchair’s headrest and examined the ceiling. The wind in his lungs seemed to stick in his throat as he let out a breath. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. I still can’t believe any of this has happened.”

“Why you, though, dad?” Bex asked him from the sofa. She was holding up well, but Andrew knew that deep down she was just as unnerved as her mother.

Andrew lowered his head and shrugged at his daughter. “Don’t know, sweetie. If it wasn’t me then it would have just been someone else.”

“I still don’t understand why you won’t call the police again,” said Pen.

“Because it won’t do any good. Unless someone saw it happen, the police will have nothing to go on.”

Pen clicked her fingers at him and motioned for him to get up. “Well, bloody go find out if anyone did. Ask the neighbours.”

Andrew took another mument to stare into space, before eventually nodding his head. “Okay. Maybe someone did see something.”

Andrew stood up and left the room. He was already wearing his shoes – not something he usually did indoors but the carpet was already ruined with chip fat anyway – so he stepped through into the porch and opened the front door. Outside, his eyes again came to rest upon his vandalised vehicle and the disgusting words written all over it. There was no way he could drive to work until it was repainted. That led Andrew to think what exactly he would say when he dropped it off at the garage.