Even the Dogs

Don’t know I didn’t hang around.

What did you do? Where did you go?

Fucking ran what do you think. What would you

He’d been away was what he’d tell the police. He decided. If they came looking for him, if they had a reason to come looking for him, which if he kept his mouth shut why would they. Unless some cunt. He’d been out of town. He’d gone to his brother’s house, for Christmas, he’d got the idea into his head that they could have a like a family thing for once. Danny and his brother Tony and Tony’s new wife and them two kids which weren’t even Tony’s. Weren’t much of a family. Weren’t much of an idea anyhow because Tony kicked him out on Boxing Day, like gave him a cold turkey sandwich and told him to fuck off but that was where he’d been and that was what he’d tell the police. If they showed up, if they took him in and asked him questions like

We’ve all known people dead but aint many ever seen it. Thought he’d look asleep or something but weren’t nothing like that at all. Was more like, what. Flies and maggots and stuff leaking over the floor. And the smell of it. Churns in your guts and comes pouring out your mouth like

Two days to get back from his brother’s, two days of walking and hiding in train toilets and jumping over barriers and sleeping in carparks and walking some more and carrying Einstein when her leg got too bad. Big fucking dog to carry but what else could he do. When it was his fault about the leg anyway. And this was the welcome he got, no cunt anywhere and Robert laid out dead and no clue what’s going on at all. Had to find Mike was the thing, Mike would sort it, Mike would know what was going on and what to do. But had to find Laura as well, had to tell Laura before some other cunt got there first. Like Ben or some cunt like that. Had to find somewhere to score. And his own brother had shut the door on him, had said

The driver talks to the policeman in the front, and for the first time we can hear what they say. Is this your first one, he’s asking, and the policeman says Yes, just about, first proper one like this, and the two men laugh and say You’ll soon get used to it, chap, it’s a busy time of year. We follow Danny down to the bottom of the hill, trailing his blankets, tripping over the sodden ragged hems of his jeans, turning to call and hurry Einstein along. The van sweeps up the sliproad at the interchange, and we lose sight of him for a moment as he stumbles down into the underpass, the weight of Robert’s body shifting in the bag between us as we turn on to the exit road and see Danny climbing the steps back up to the street. We see him shaking his head, taking off his glasses and wiping them clean across his coat, looking around for anyone he knows. But there’s no one. Only Einstein, sitting at his feet and panting hard, standing and following as Danny strides away again, the way he always walks, swinging his arms too hard like he’s struggling up a steep hill or something, off towards Barford Street and the markets, turning to look at us for a moment as we drive past and leave him behind, as we weave smoothly through empty one-way streets past loading bays and bus shelters and somewhere out beyond, accelerating away up the steep ramp of the flyover towards the bruise-dark clouds of the blackened

He saw Sammy, down on the corner of Barford Street and Exchange Street. Saw him from the top of the road but he knew it was him, weren’t no one else it could be. That great long beard and the screwed-up eyes and the way he shuffled around like his feet were chained together or something. Called out as soon as he saw him. Sammy, Sammy mate, Sammy, near enough running down towards him in his usual spot on the corner with the benches and bins and flowerpots and that sculpture of fuck knows what. Sammy mate. Sammy. His voice ragged and breathless with the pace he’d kept up since climbing out of the window at the flat. Sammy pissing into a bin, waving fuck off over his shoulder. Sammy, mate, I’m looking for Laura, have you seen her, do you know where she is? Sammy turning and putting his knob away, wiping his hands on his filthy trousers. Staggering with the effort of focusing on Danny, his mouth opening and closing like he’d already forgotten the question. Danny kept moving, kept walking, couldn’t stop, looked away up Barford Street and back the way he’d come, headed off up Exchange Street and away towards the Abbey Day Centre. Not seen no cunt for days, Sammy called out, and Danny turned back to listen, walking backwards for a moment to see if there was anything more. Not seen no cunt for days, Sammy said again, almost to himself, sitting down heavily and reaching around on the floor for his bottle while a pigeon circled in from a rooftop, settled on the edge of the bin, and pecked at a sodden kebab. You can fuck off an all, Sammy said when he heard it, spitting in its general direction, the phlegm trickling through his beard as the pigeon flew up over the marketplace, the station, the multi-storey carpark and the office block and the long dwarfed spire of the

It was the wife was the problem. Tony’s wife. She had a long memory was the problem. Tony had been all right before. He’d let Danny stop round there sometimes. He’d sorted him out. They went back a long way and they had a what, they had a way of dealing with things. Like an understanding. But then he’d met that woman. Nicola. Nicolah-di-dah. Danny had turned up one time, hadn’t been there for months on account of some previous misunderstanding which would have been forgotten by then if it was down to Tony, but now it was different because she was there, Nicola, his new wife, and it was obvious she thought she knew all about him. Grabbed hold of her kids and took them upstairs, didn’t even say hello or nothing, left him standing there in the lounge thinking what the fuck have I done this time. Tony said Sorry but she’s just kind of nervous and that, with the kids and everything, you know how it is. Nervous was right. The way she swept them off upstairs like that she must have thought he was like what, infectious or something. Like he could pass on all the troubles he had as easy as sneezing. Aint that simple, Nicolah. Aint that simple at all. Takes years of

Had to find someone and tell them. Jesus, what was it, what had happened. Leave town for a week and you come back and he’s dead and everyone else vanished like a fuck like a puff of what like a giro cheque. Passed a phonebox on Exchange Street and thought about calling the police from there and telling them about Robert. Found some fag-ends on the floor outside and put them in his tin. Got as far as opening the door before he changed his mind because what was he going to say, what was

Where did you go when you left the scene?

Ran down the hill, went under the underpass, went into town.

Why did you run?

I didn’t run but I was like scared and that.

Scared of what?

Don’t know, I was just scared.

Where did you go?

Was looking for someone.

Where did you

Through the market, down past the Lion and the newsagent’s and the bookie’s. Straight over the main road and across the roundabout and round the side of the old boarded-up warehouse to the hostel where he’d seen Laura that last time. Buzzed at the door but no one answered. Looked up at the windows but couldn’t see no one there. Pints of milk keeping cold on the windowsills, trainers and boots hanging out to air, but the curtains all shut and no sign of anyone awake. Looked in through the office window and saw that what’s her name Ruth on the other side of the bars, clicking away on the computer with her face all lit up by the screen. Banged on the window but when she looked up she only pointed back at the door. Fucksake. Buzzed at the door again and some other bloke’s voice came out the speaker going Sorry, mate, we’re not open yet, usually you’d have to come back at five but we’re full tonight, is there anything we can help you with? I’m looking for someone, Danny said, I’m looking for a friend, she’s staying here, I need to come in and talk to her. Bloke goes What’s her name and when Danny said Laura he didn’t say nothing for a minute then he said She’s not here. She was here a few days ago, Danny said, where’s she gone. Bloke said I can’t tell you that I can’t help you, mate. Danny said It’s fucking cold out here will you let me in so we can have a proper conversation or what, like she must be here, she was going to stay another couple of weeks at least. I need to talk to her. Bloke said I can’t help you, mate, sorry, and if that’s your dog we don’t let dogs in either, and then he didn’t say nothing else even though Danny kept buzzing and buzzing and shouting into the speaking grille. Banging on the office window didn’t help neither, the glass was all toughened and anyway the bars were there and Ruth didn’t even look she just kept clicking away on that fucking computer and what the fuck was she looking at that was so interesting anyway and why wouldn’t they tell him where the fuck Laura had

Through the alleyway past the memorial gardens, looking for fag-ends among the rosebushes and cider bottles, round the back of the council offices, checking the parking meters all down past the tyre fitter’s and the sofa warehouse and then up the ramp to the wet centre. Which was shut over Christmas and had a sign on the door saying where else the regulars could go for help if they needed it. Only most of them didn’t want to go nowhere else and were just sitting it out in the doorway until it opened again. Knew one of them, Bristol John, and asked him if he’d seen Laura or any of the others and he thought about telling him what had happened to Robert. But it was too late in the day to get any sense so he turned and kept going, past the council offices, the housing office, the shops on Exchange Street and the tiny almost hidden doorway of the Abbey Day Centre. Didn’t look like no one was there except Maureen and Dave and that bloke who’s always in the corner and never says a word except Cheers when they give him a cup of tea. Maureen looked pleased to see him. She always looked pleased to see anyone. Looked like someone’s auntie or granny with her cardigans and her white hair and her glasses on a chain around her neck but she never took grief from no one. I’ll have none of that from you she said, if anyone tried anything on, and that was usually enough to do the trick. Made Danny a cup of tea without asking, and started on talking about Christmas and New Year and where had everyone got to, her words coming out in one mouthful the way they always did like she was scared that stopping for breath would give someone the chance to turn away. Which they often did. She was all right but she had a lot to say. Danny didn’t sit down. He couldn’t. He looked in the games room, the laundry room, the toilets, the computer room, and he paced back through the lounge each time to make sure, like maybe this was all some game, some trick they were playing, and they were going to jump out and go ta-dah and all that. But there weren’t no one there and no one jumped out and no one said nothing. Maureen said There’s been no one in all day, love, there’s been no one here since Christmas Day. She said We had a bit of trouble here on Christmas Day mind you, we had a couple of girls overdosing in the toilets, the ambulance men came and sorted them out but still it doesn’t look good does it? They should have known we don’t have any of that sort of thing here. It gave us all quite a fright, really. So perhaps everyone’s just keeping out of the way after that, do you think, Dave? We had the police in asking questions and everything, I mean. Or maybe they’ve all just gone off to that new winter shelter, maybe they’ll be back when that packs in. Maybe the tea’s better there, she said, looking down at the tea she’d put on the table for Danny, wondering why he hadn’t drunk it yet. Danny taking off his glasses to fiddle with the tape on the broken arm, smearing them clean again and Maureen going Have you not had those seen to yet, love? You want to get them fixed up, they’re half falling off your face. Bloke in the corner just watching them both, his eyes half closed, his head wobbling like it was balanced on a plate and being carried aloft through a crowded room and Dave in the kitchen calling out Now then, Mo, no one does better tea than you. But no one there. Not Mike. Not Laura. Not Heather or Ben or Steve or Ant or any of that crowd. Just Maureen waiting for him to drink his cup of tea, and fetching a bowl of biscuits to take out for Einstein without waiting to be asked. Saying if I didn’t know better I’d be worried, only it’s like this sometimes, some days you can’t move for folk and other days you’re sitting around wondering what to do with

And if he found Laura what was he going to say. It’s about your dad. You’d better sit down. The thing is. And what was he thinking, like she’d be grateful or something, like she’d be pleased he was the one to have told her. Like that was going to make things easier. When she was all mixed up about him anyway, from not seeing or knowing him all those years, from her mum giving her all horror stories that she never knew were true or not. What’s it called. Conflicted. Said she hadn’t been able to remember what he looked like until she found some photos her mum had kept hidden, and then when she met him he looked all wrong. Told him about living with her nan, and then later just with her mum, and not knowing what to say when kids at school asked about her dad. But, fucksake. She can’t have been the only one whose dad weren’t around. He told her that, Danny did. One time when they were waiting together for a kid to show up with the gear. She said she’d always kept wondering about him and all that, hoping for a birthday card, thinking one year maybe he’d turn up on Christmas Day for a surprise. Her mum told her she wouldn’t let him in the house if he did. But, fucksake. The way she went on about it. One out of two aint bad. Should try living in a children’s home and see how fucking conflicted you end up then, he told

Off again past the back of the council offices, Einstein not wanting to leave the food behind but limping along beside him all the same. Past the alleyway down to the back of the shopping centre and through the multi-storey carpark and there still weren’t no one there. Could have told Maureen. She would have told the police for him. Out on to the Royal Square. Could have asked to use the phone and done it himself. They’d have to be told. What the fuck was he thinking. Couldn’t just leave Robert lying on the floor. Couldn’t just wait while someone else climbed in through the window or broke the door down and found him lying there like that. Tripped on the kerb by the taxi rank and fell on his knees, but so what if anyone saw. Einstein nudging at his ear to see if he was all right. Barking at him to get up. Had to tell someone else first, before he told the police, had to find out if anyone else knew, had to get things straight, things were all too fucking fucked up. Getting up again and stumbling past the office block with the indoor waterfall and that security guard who comes out from behind his desk as soon as anyone catches his eye. And if he found Laura what did he think was going to happen. She was going to cry on his shoulder or something. And then what. Kept walking because what else can you do. The underpass at the end of Station Street. Found some more fag-ends there. The steps. The canal towpath. Probably she wouldn’t even let him speak to her after last time after what happened the

Mike would know what to do. Danny thought. Mike might know who those two girls were who’d gone over at the Abbey. Wouldn’t be Laura though else Maureen would have said. Mike would know. Hard work hanging out with Mike sometimes but at least he generally knew what to do, in a situation, in a situation like this. Except they’d never been in a situation like this. Fuck. Thing to do now before anything else was find Mike, up at the Parkside squats where they’d been sleeping lately and find him there he must be there. But Laura. But needing to score. But Mike might have some would he fuck would he

If he hadn’t gone to his brother’s. If he hadn’t said all that to Laura. If he’d stuck with Mike. Then none of this would have

Bunch of people outside the Catholic church but it weren’t going to open for another hour or something and he had to get sorted first. They did a good lunch, but food weren’t important now. Wouldn’t keep it down anyway the state he was in. Looked to see if there was anyone he knew. Maggie, and Jamesie, and that girl Charmaine with the baby, standing there pushing him backwards and forwards in the buggy to get him back to sleep. Fucksake, when she first turned up on the scene. Weren’t long before she got a place in this mother and baby hostel but before that, Jesus. She’d told Laura about it. Left home because her mum was giving her a hard time about the baby, not giving her no help except a mouthful of You’re doing it all wrong and then her mum’s bloke said If you don’t shut that fucking kid up I’ll fucking shut it up for you. Which like she knew what he was capable of with her mum. She told them all this down the Housing, but all they heard her say was I left home, which meant they could give it all I’m sorry, love, you’ve made yourself intentionally homeless there’s very little we can do. Told Laura she spent three days and nights after that just walking around town. Specially at night, she said. Didn’t want to sleep nowhere, in case someone took little Ryan, you get me? What would I have done then? Just kept walking and walking until something worked out, getting all blisters and sores, tucking little Ryan into his buggy under blankets and coats and hushing him to sleep and wiping his tears away. Nicking jars of babyfood for him until she got arrested and someone got on her case and got this place in the hostel sorted out. I lost it a bit them nights though, she told Laura, I don’t know what I was up to really, I weren’t thinking straight or nothing. But you go different when you’ve got a kid though, know what I mean? Get like you’d do fucking anything for it. Three days and nights she just kept walking, singing like lullabies to little Ryan and walking all night and nobody noticed a thing. Even outside the Catholic church now she was standing a way apart from the others, pushing the buggy backwards and forwards and looking around in all directions, like standing guard or getting ready to

Climbed across the lockgates under the flyover, the black timbers glassed with ice, the canal water tumbling into the empty lock with a sound like the blood rushing in his ears. A few caravans and trucks parked up under the flyover, some kids burning cables on a bonfire but no one he knew so he climbed back across the canal and called Einstein and carried on along

Mike had told him hadn’t he, Mike had said he was better off not going, said there was no way his brother would let him in the house. So if he’d listened. He should have listened. Seemed like Mike was talking bollocks half the time but then he turned out right. Which was why he’d stuck with him. He’d helped out when Danny first showed up in town, when he’d got taxed for asking someone where he could score. Come up afterwards and offered Danny halves on a ten bag in return for a split on Danny’s next giro, helped him get the giro sorted and get a new address for it and all the rest. Waited three days while the giro came through and that was enough to set them up as partners, three days of thieving and begging and scoring just enough to keep from getting sick while they waited for the giro to come in. Which all went at once on the dark and the light and they got through it quick before anyone could find them and take it off

Jesus. Could do with some gear now. Would help. Would help him think a bit straight. Got his script from the chemist as soon as he got to town, before he went up to Robert’s, but that was hours ago now and it weren’t nearly holding him. Yawns coming on already and the rest would follow soon as. Had just enough for a bag from what his brother had given him when he’d slung him out of the house. When he’d said Danny take this I can’t have you here no more, not in your state, not with Nicola and the kids and everything, I’ve given you a chance but she’s had enough she’s all on edge. You understand don’t you, mate. Boxing Day. Nice one. You know how it is, with the kids, but take this and get yourself sorted. And happy fucking Christmas to you an all, brother. There’d been a bit of a scene then, shouting, banging, kids crying in the house and Nicola’s little red car getting its windows broken again but only once he’d taken the money. He was proud but he still needed the money. Found somewhere to score before setting off back. Not hard when you know what you’re looking for and it don’t take long. Scored just enough to hold him while he got to the chemist’s, and kept enough money back to sort him out after that. His own brother and he wouldn’t let him in the house. And if he had he wouldn’t have been the one to find Robert like that. Would have been one of the others and it would be them staggering around town now going mental with the sight of it instead of him. It was always, why was it always

Couldn’t get his usual man to answer the phone and he’d been trying all day. Cunt was probably still in bed. No one around to ask for another number but if he didn’t get sorted soon he was going to start getting sick he was going to

Down the steps by the locks beneath the railway bridge. The water dark and still and rainbow-slicked with oil. The railway arches fenced off to keep them out but he knew a way through. Dark inside, and a stink of piss and shit and soot but no one there. A heap of rotting blankets, a pair of split boots, cans and bottles and scraps of foil and card, an old paperback book ripped apart at the spine. But no one there. Something scratching and moving

Three days before Christmas Danny had last seen everyone. Up at Robert’s flat and everything had seemed fine back then. No one had much gear, there hadn’t been much gear around for a while, but there was plenty of benzos and jellies going around, plus the scripts. Nothing to get excited about but enough to keep anyone from getting proper sick. Plus some more drinks than usual and

Walked along the towpath looking in at the water, wondering where to score and wondering where to go for a dig when he did. Rolled a fag from the ends he’d found but he knew it wouldn’t do much good. A heron standing watch up ahead, shoulders hunched over, looking in at the water. Heaving into the air on its big baggy wings when Danny got too close, Einstein chasing on ahead and Danny thinking about the works in his bag. The note in his sock weren’t worth nothing if he couldn’t find no one selling. The heron settled on the opposite bank a hundred yards ahead, folding its wings and hunching its shoulders and dipping its ash-white head towards the water as Danny called Einstein back and scrambled away up the

Only one chair in the room and that was Robert’s. Everyone else sat on the floor. Leaning up against the wall which meant Robert was always sat at the centre of things with everyone around him. All his things in easy reach. His cans, his papers, his tobacco. Good job because it took him a lot of time and trouble to stand up and someone mostly had to help him. Big man like that. Drank all day and didn’t do anything else. Seemed like the deal was if people brought him food and drink they could hang out in his flat, and it seemed like a good enough deal. Brought him plenty of food enough. Never asked Danny no questions the first time Mike took him up there, and that was the way he liked it. Just about the only one who didn’t do gear, but never seemed bothered what anyone

Jesus though. A man like that. Didn’t look ill the last time Danny had seen him. But the others must have seen him after that, must have noticed something was wrong. Had to find them and ask them, had to make sense of all

Weren’t like Robert didn’t have people looking out for him. He did, he had all of us. Not like some of these other cunts, these ones who’ve got no one and are always looking over their shoulders. Like the old man in the wheelchair, getting taxed near enough every time he comes out the post office. Like that one that turned up at the soup run a couple of times, no one knew his name and he never spoke to no one and word was he was sleeping out in the woods. Wouldn’t catch Danny going out in the woods in the daytime let alone at night. Never know what’s going off in the woods, it’s all shadows and hiding places and furry fucking creatures running around after dark. Anything can happen. But some cunts have got no one and they’ve got to find somewhere to hide. But Robert had no one to hide from, he had all us lot looking out for him. It was a what was it an understanding. Weren’t it and

Laura she couldn’t she said but

Had to find

Fuck

The van drives quickly now, the men in the front run dry of conversation and impatient to be done, to be home, to be off the streets on a wind-cold empty day like this, and through the darkened windows we watch the city pass us by; long dark streets splashed with light, empty parks and flooded playing fields, boarded-up shops and fenced-off factory ruins, and we see Steve, almost, dimly, we see the place where Steve’s been staying, a boarded-up room above a shop with the birdshit and feathers scraped out and a mattress from a skip hauled in and the walls whitewashed with a tin of stolen paint. A light and a television running on power cut in from downstairs. The room kept tidy, always, and no rubbish left lying around but thrown out through the window into the yard. The yard full of cans and bottles and batteries and bits of scrap he’s brought back because it might be useful, because he’s got a plan to do the place up and claim squatter’s rights and make something of it. Car tyres and bike frames and planks of wood. Plant pots and cable and window-frames. A crowd of pigeons picking around in the corner of the yard, shifting at the sound of footsteps and flapping into the air as Danny pulls himself over the wall and falls awkwardly to the floor. He gets up again, wiping the filth from his hands and his coat, and he shouts up at the first-floor window. Steve! Steve! The pigeons swoop and circle overhead, settling on the sagging roof as Einstein barks and claws at the other side of the wall and Danny keeps shouting up. Steve it’s me! It’s Danny! Are you there, are you fucking there? His voice cracks, and he bends forward to hack and spit on the ground, his long bony hands resting on his knees, and he stays bent over like that for a moment, a long string of bile swinging from his mouth to the floor, and he straightens up and calls Steve’s name again. Steve where the

None of the others ever knew where Steve stayed, apart from Ant who stayed with him now and again. Only reason Danny knew was he’d helped Steve back there one night, dragging him along the towpath when he should have known better and left him lying in the bushes until morning. One time when Ant was in the cells. Not that he would have been any use anyway. Steve’s weak leg wet with piss and drink and his arm clamped round Danny’s shoulder. Only helped him out because he owed Steve from the last giro day, and when they got over the wall into the yard Steve sobered up enough to turn and hold him by the throat with his good hand and say You tell any bastard where I’m staying and I’ll murder you I’ll rip your bloody head right off. His voice quiet and slurred, his thumb pressing between the cords of Danny’s neck like a fishmonger finding his way to the bone. Which wasn’t what

He shouts again, his fists clenched by his side and his whole body straining up towards the window. Steve! Are you there are you fucking there? He picks up a handful of stones and throws them at the window, and they go arcing through the empty window-frame before clattering into the room where Steve lies, laid out neatly on his bed, a ghost of a smile twisting across his face and his eyes closed and Ant laid out against the opposite wall, the pigeons on the roof leaping up at the sound and scattering westward across the alley and the canal and the reservoir, climbing higher over the wooded hillside of the park and the dual carriageway beyond, their underbellies catching the last faint light of the day as we peer from the darkened windows of the van to watch them passing overhead, as we look down at the zippered bulk of Robert’s body between us and we remember he remembers we we

The ground a long way off and the branch in your hand a useless piece of dead wood and you’re falling through the

His brother still owed him from when they were kids, and he knew it. Danny had always helped him out back then, when he could, when they’d still been placed together, when it had been just the two of them against everyone else. Sitting in their room at night, whatever room they happened to be in that night because it kept changing. Talking about ways to get out and ways to find their parents and ways to go and live on their own somewhere with no care workers telling them what they could and couldn’t do. And every now and then when things had been bad his brother saying What were they like can you remember can you tell me what they were like? Which he couldn’t but he’d make out like he could, he’d say They were tall and Dad had red hair and sometimes a beard but then he got it shaved and Mum was a bit fat and she was always baking cakes she used to let us help and they had loud voices they both did a lot of shouting. His brother didn’t know better. He’d only been a baby when they’d been removed. Might have been true he could hardly remember himself but so what. He could remember the house sometimes but so what. Thick brown curtains in the front room and he could only ever remember them being shut. But so what. Red rug on the floor where he used to play with these wooden bricks and they were the only toys he could remember being in the house. Ants on the kitchen floor. Everything quiet one day, no one around when normally there were crowds of people in and out the house stepping over and around him and shouting and laughing and saying Will you get that fucking kid to bed. Putting one brick on top of another until the whole pile falls over. Door bangs open and people everywhere. Shouting and crying and footsteps up and down the stairs and someone picking him up and she smelt different she didn’t smell right. His brother didn’t know about that, he’d never asked and he’d never been told. No one had ever asked. And if they had. If they’d asked him how it felt. He’d say It’s like when you’re climbing a tree and the branch breaks off. You’re still holding on to the branch but you’re falling through

Why didn’t you contact the police immediately?

Don’t know, I was just, I was in a state.

Where did you go?

I went everywhere, I was looking for someone.

Where did you go?

I went to the Abbey Day Centre, and the Sally Army, but there was no one there.