ASBO: A Novel of Extreme Terror(28)

“Hate it,” said Davie. “But I try my best anyway. I promised my mum I would get a job and not end up like my brother.

Oh shit, why did I say that?

“You have a brother?”

Davie swallowed what felt like a huge lump of coal in his throat. “Yeah. He…moved away, years ago now, but he was always up to no good.”

“Hurting people?” said Andrew.

Davie thought about how loud Charlie had screamed when Frankie held her arm in all of that chip fat. It was the hottest thing Davie had ever seen, bubbling and spitting like molten evil. The young girl cried out so loudly when her hand had touched it that something must have given way inside her throat. The tone of her voice changed pitch mid-scream. Frankie had broken his own rule about never hurting a woman and the whole incident had sent Davie’s world spiralling. The violence had made him feel woozy, so he’d run. Run away from that chip shop as fast as he could.

Then something had hit him like a tonne of bricks. Next thing he knew, he was waking up in a hospital with a nurse bandaging his head.

Even now, Davie had a hard time accepting what had happened in the chip shop. The old Frankie he’d grown up with would never have hurt a defenceless girl like that. The old Frankie he grew up with would not have done a lot of the things he had been doing lately.

“...kay?”

Davie looked up from his thoughts. “Huh?”

“I said are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Davie nodded. “Just feel a bit sick.”

Andrew turned to him and smiled. “We’re almost there now. Hold on.”

Davie decided not to participate in any further conversation. The less Andrew knew about him – and his blood relatives – the better. In fact, too much had been said already.

The speeding car took a road on the left and started slowing down. It entered into a residential area that Davie did not recognise.

“I think you’ve gone the wrong way.”

Andrew shook his head, but kept his eyes forward. “No, I haven’t”

“Yeah, you have,” Davie argued. “You should have kept on the main road for a little while longer, I think.”

“We’re making a little detour first.”

Davie felt sick. “What?”

Andrew smiled at Davie for a moment then looked back at the road. “I have someone I want you to meet. Then I will take you home, alright?”

“Okay,” Davie hesitated. “Who?”

Andrew took a deep breath as if he was considering something. “I want you to meet my family, Davie. They were worried when I told them I hit you. I just want them to see that you’re okay. That cool, buddy?”

Davie nodded. “Yeah, okay, but I really need to get home soon.”

“No problem. Be just five minutes. My wife will never get off my back until she knows you’re going to be fine.”

Davie looked out of the car’s window as it parked up on the curb outside of a row of houses. He couldn’t help feeling like a rat caught in a trap. There was something off about the situation and Andrew’s demeanour had suddenly changed, but there was nowhere to run.

Andrew applied the parking brake and switched off the ignition. “Okay, get out.”

Davie nodded in silence. He pushed open the door on his side and stepped out into the street. The air felt icy after leaving the stifling compartment of the car. It was a good sensation, though, and woke up his senses, easing the low-level headache that had been with him since the hospital.

“Come on, inside,” said Andrew, walking up a path to one of the houses. There was a light on in the living room, mingling with the pulsing flash of a television.

Davie followed obediently, wishing he was somewhere else – anywhere else – than the property of a man who most likely meant him harm.

Andrew opened the front door with a key and stepped inside. Dave stepped inside too, stopping inside the porch.

Andrew locked the door behind them. “Living room’s on the left, pal. Go on through.”

Davie entered the hallway and turned to the door on the left. It felt as though turning the handle would be the beginning of something he didn’t want to get into. He wanted to refuse to go in, to turn around and demand to be let out. But it was too late for that.

I’m already inside.

Davie turned the handle and pushed open the door, then entered the living room. Inside, there was a mixture of smells that didn’t usually go together. It smelt like vinegar and…bleach? A moment later Davie saw the source of each odour. Two women – one young and one older – crawled on their hands and knees, scrubbing at the carpet with bleach-soaked cloths. The whole room seemed to be littered with mashed up potatoes and bits of fish.