Born Evil

Mickey and Steve sipped their pints and chatted quietly to each other. They knew which one of the punters was supposed to be McDaid because they’d paid a little kid outside a score to look through the window and point him out. Not wanting to make a tit of himself, Mickey decided to watch and wait. He needed to check if his intended target had a Scottish accent, hear him called by name before he made himself known. For all he knew the kid outside might have been pulling a fast one and he was damned if he was gonna mug himself off.

Sensing trouble brewing, Fred decided to call it a day and leave the honours to his barmaid Julie. He hated the pub; they could smash it to smithereens, for all he cared. ‘See ya, Bill. Bye, lads,’ he shouted as he made a rapid exit.

Hearing the name Bill, Mickey knew that he’d struck gold. Over the next hour or so he watched three or four punters come into the pub, follow Billy into the toilets and immediately leave the premises without even buying a drink.

‘Classy,’ Mickey said sarcastically to Steve. ‘He must use the khazi as his office.’

Steve laughed. ‘What we gonna do then, Mick? We can’t just stand here all day.’

Telling his friend to stay put, Mickey walked over to where McDaid was sitting.

‘You got a minute, Bill?’ he asked casually.

Billy was shitting himself. He was sure he didn’t know this cunt from Adam, but with all his mates’ eyes firmly on him, was determined not to show his fear.

‘How do you know my name? Who the fuck are you?’

As Mickey moved closer, he looked the skinny gutted arsehole straight in the eye. ‘Don’t you notice the family resemblance?’ Holding out his hand, he smiled as he clocked the alarm on Billy’s face.

‘Mickey Dawson, Debbie’s brother. Now, shall I ask you again, have you got a minute?’

‘Aye, nice to meet yer, Mickey. I’ve heard lots about yer. What are yer having?’

‘I don’t want a drink, Billy, I just want a quick word with ya. Let’s go outside, eh?’

Unlocking the Merc, Mickey told Billy to get in the passenger seat.

‘I dinnae want to go for no drive, ye ken. My pals are all inside the boozer and I cannae leave them.’

Mickey smiled at him. ‘You worry too much, Billy. We’re not going anywhere.’

Once in the car, Mickey turned to face him. ‘Right, I’ve been to see me sister who informs me that you treat her okay and that she’s happy and so on. Me personally, I don’t like the sound or the look of you, but you’re my sister’s choice and not mine. Obviously, being her older brother, I will always be about to protect Debs and keep a watchful eye on her. At the moment, even though you’re obviously selling drugs from a khazi, I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. But – and I mean but – if you ever get her arrested, lay a finger on her, or treat her badly in any way, then you’ll have me to fucking deal with. Do you understand what I’m saying to ya, Bill?’

Lost for words, Billy nodded dumbly. Feeling nervous, he searched for the right words. ‘Look, I love your sister, man, I really do. I’d never treat her bad, I swear I wouldnae.’

‘Well, that’s okay, then. As long as we understand one another, we won’t have a problem. Now let’s go back in the pub and I’ll buy you a pint.’

Mickey nodded to Steve to join him and Billy as they re-entered the pub. He then spent the next half an hour chatting to his sister’s choice of man and trying to be as polite as possible. It was difficult; the geezer was an out-and-out prick. Finishing the last of his drink, Mickey forced himself to shake Billy’s hand.

‘Well, I’m glad I’ve met ya. I’m going now, but as I said I’ll be popping round again to check on me sis. I left her some money today to get a phone put on, so make sure she does, eh, Bill?’

‘Definitely. I’ll sort it, nae problem.’

Mickey smiled. ‘Good stuff. Oh, and by the way, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell Debs the ins and outs of our little conversation. Just say that we had a beer together, got on fine, and leave it at that, okay?’

‘No probs,’ Billy said as he waved them goodbye. As soon as Mickey and Steve walked out the door, though, Billy’s temper began to boil. The more cider he drank, the angrier he got. He was extremely annoyed with himself for being so gutless and not giving Mickey what for. Billy was a face round here in Barking, everyone knew him, and that twat had had the cheek to come and belittle him, make him look a prick in his own local? Ordering a pint of snakebite, he vented his true feelings to his mate.

‘Andy, you listen to me – Billy McDaid. You see that prick … that mug? I didnae lose it with him ’cause of Debs. But I’m telling yer now, if that cockney cunt ever comes back in here and pulls me out of this pub again, I’m gonnae do him, believe me, man. I’ll kill him. And if I find out Debs has been slagging me off behind my back, I’ll kill her as well. May God be my judge, I swear I’ll kill the fucking pair of ’em.’

SIX (#ulink_18180f58-078b-59f0-bfa6-80c7a0c6d35b)

DEBBIE EASED HERSELF into a sitting position. For what seemed like the umpteenth time, she hauled her oversized body out of the armchair and stood staring out of the window. She was worried sick about her Billy. He loved his grub. Like clockwork, he popped home about six for his dinner, and if by any chance he couldn’t make it, he always sent a pal round to tell her he would be late. It was now eleven o’clock and she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him. She just hoped he was okay. Surely if he had been arrested or involved in an accident of some kind, someone would have informed her.

It seemed too much of a coincidence, today of all days, when her brother had gone to look for him, that this had happened. Maybe they had got on that well they’d embarked on a bender together. Somehow, though, she couldn’t imagine that. She was kidding herself. And even if they had gone out on the piss, Billy would still have made time to let her know.

Debating whether to knock next door and borrow Sharon’s phone to ring her brother’s mobile, Debbie decided against it. It was late now and she didn’t want to become a pest. She’d already knocked twice earlier, to ring around Billy’s locals.

‘He’s not in here tonight, love,’ had been the answer to her question in all three pubs. Billy didn’t normally venture anywhere else. If he wasn’t in his usual haunts, she was stumped as to where he was. Defeated, she wandered out into the kitchen and left a note on the top, telling him that his shepherd’s pie was in the oven. Then, not knowing what else to do, she got into bed and prayed for his safe return.

Billy McDaid staggered down the dimly lit road and angrily kicked out at a cat that had the cheek to get in his way. Still fuming over the events of earlier, he’d got himself paralytic, hoping to improve his mood. Instead of making him feel better, though, the snakebites he’d sunk had had the opposite affect. Kicking over a dustbin, he reeled into the tower block and repeatedly pressed the lift button. He swayed out of the lift and with difficulty managed to fit his key in the lock at the second attempt. Debbie had barely slept a wink and was relieved when she heard the sound of the front door opening.

‘Is that you, Bill? Where have you been?’

Billy let out a loud belch. ‘Mind your own fucking business.’

Debbie was shocked by his viciousness. ‘What’s happened, Bill? Are you okay?

Kicking the door shut, Billy slammed his fist against the wall. ‘Am I okay? Do I sound okay? You silly fucking slag!’

The tone of his voice told Debbie not to say any more.

Staggering into the kitchen, Billy clumsily retrieved the shepherd’s pie from the oven and dropped a quarter of it on the floor. He scooped it up with his hands, slopped it back on to the plate, picked up a fork and ate the bastard thing. Burping, he opened the fridge door, took out a can of cider and greedily downed it.

Debbie felt her whole body start to shake from head to foot as she heard him approach the bedroom. She hadn’t a clue what she was meant to have done wrong, but guessed it was something to do with her brother. Feeling the baby kick, she prayed for its safety.

Billy staggered into the bedroom and lunged at her. Dragging her out of bed by her hair, he swung her round to face him. ‘You been telling tales on me, you fucking cunt?’

Debbie started to sob. She knew from past experience that there was no reasoning with him when he was like this. ‘I haven’t said anything bad about you. I love you, Billy, why would I say anything bad?’

Lip curling, like a dog that was about to bite, Billy spat in her face. Then, losing it completely, he head-butted her as hard as he could. As his spittle ran down her chin, Debbie sank to the ground.

‘Billy, don’t!’ she screamed, as he repeatedly kicked her. Lost in a red mist, Billy was unable to control himself. Thoughts of his childhood and his mother overwhelmed him, as he drew back his foot again and again.

‘The baby, Billy! You’re hurting our baby … ’

It was the mention of his unborn child that brought Billy to his senses. Sinking down onto his knees, he cuddled Debbie’s battered body to him.

‘I’m so sorry, hen. Please, don’t leave me! I swear to you, I’ll get help. I’ll go for counselling, I’ll do whatever you want me to. I love you, Debs, I really do.’

Debbie had taken such a beating she could barely speak. ‘Go next door,’ she muttered. ‘Use Sharon’s phone … ring for an ambulance.’

‘You can’t go to hospital,’ he pleaded. ‘I’ll get nicked. They’ll put me away.’

‘I have to, Bill, I can’t feel the baby moving. Go and ring one, quick! I promise I won’t grass you up. I’ll tell them I fell down the stairs or something.’

Panicking, he pummelled on the neighbour’s door. ‘Sharon, for fuck’s sake, open up! Debbie’s had an accident,’ he screamed. He didn’t even feel drunk anymore. He just felt sick with fear.

Sharon leaped out of bed and opened her front door. ‘What’s the matter? What happened to her?’