ASBO: A Novel of Extreme Terror(19)

The girl laughed at him. “You must be high. I would remember an old perv like you if I met one. You’re talking a load of shit, mate.”

“You’re Charlie’s friend, aren’t you?” asked Andrew, putting two and two together.

A spark of confusion flittered through the girl’s eyes and, for a mument, her mocking contempt was diluted. A mument later it was back in full force. “Don’t know a Charlie, mate. Who is he?”

Andrew finally lost his temper. “Look, you evil little bastards. If you come near my family again, you’ll regret it, okay? You’ve had your fun, but now it’s time to move on. No more games.”

Frankie leapt out of the doorway and shoved Andrew back along the path. “You think you can come down my manor and threaten me? You must be trippin’.”

“Yeah,” added Frankie’s mother. “Get away from my house before I call the police.”

“You’ll call the police. That’s rich.” Andrew was about to say more, but realised it was pointless. He put his palms in the air and backed away. “Fine,” he said. “Have it your way, but this is going to stop one way or another.”

“Just f*ck off!” Frankie shouted. “You come here again and you’re a dead man.”

Andrew sneered. “Same goes for you, my friend. Stay away from my house.”

“He ain’t your f*ckin’ friend,” said the girl.

“You’re right he’s not.” Andrew turned his back and walked away. He couldn’t help wondering if he had just made things worse, but somehow he didn’t care. He was furious.

The walk home was a long one.





Chapter Six


Davie had watched his brother’s argument from the top step. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen his brother in a doorstep altercation and it would doubtlessly not be the last. Mum getting involved and making things worse wasn’t particularly unusual either.

The man at the door had been middle-aged, older than the usual type of person Frankie had misdealings with. Davie assumed it was the same man his brother had delivered a beat down to recently. Frankie hadn’t mentioned it directly, but Dom and Jordan had been laughing about it at last night’s party. The man had seemed angry, but more desperate than anything else – like he just wanted to call a truce.

Good luck, buddy. You obviously don’t know my brother.

Frankie was coming up the stairs now, casually, as if nothing had happened. He was flanked by his girlfriend, Michelle, and both of them were laughing.

“Hey,” Davie said. “Who was that?”

“Fuck knows,” Frankie said. “But the guy has a death wish to get all up in my face like he did.”

Davie shook his head. “Don’t shit me. Who was he?”

“Just some perv,” Michelle answered. “Don’t worry about it, D.”

“My name is Davie. How did he know where we live?”

Frankie shrugged. Michelle answered again: “Stupid bitch, Charlie, must have told him. He knew we used to be friends so she obviously spoke to him at the chippy or summin.”

“Okay,” said Davie, “so what did he want?”

Frankie shrugged. “Fuck should I know?”

Davie looked at him and sighed. “I’m your brother, man. Tell me the truth.”

After a couple seconds, Frankie finally relented and let down his guard. “Okay, little bro, you’re right. He’s just some geezer I had to teach a lesson in manners the other night. I gave him some grief and he just came round to kick off about it.”

“You going to leave off now, then?”

Frankie laughed and patted Davie on the shoulder. “Hell no! Shit is only just getting started. Now get out my way. This bitch needs a good seeing to.”

Michelle punched Frankie on the arm, but giggled as she did so. Davie got out of his brother’s way without saying another word. There was no point in arguing. Frankie would do as Frankie wanted; that was the way it had always been.

Davie decided to descend the stairs rather than return to his room. He entered the downstairs hallway on his way to the kitchen to get a snack. It was unlikely there’d be anything to eat – there never was – but stranger things had happened.

The malodour of alcohol and weed was stronger downstairs than up and managed to permeate every corner of the lower floor. The sound of garrulous daytime television polluted Davie’s ears just as much as the smell polluted his nose (the additional noise of Frankie and Michelle now beginning to f*ck loudly upstairs only added to the assault on his senses).