‘Where'd she go?'

He blinks through the smoke in his eyes. 'Alison? Well, I suppose she went off with Rob.' Talking to me like I'm a special needs case.

'She say where?'

'No idea. She has friends up in Newcastle. Kept mention- ing them, but tell you the truth, she got a bit boring with all that. I tuned out.'

Newcastle. 'You have an address?’

‘I told you, I tuned out. Why the fuck would I have an address?'

'What about Rob?'

'What about him? I told you, I didn't know him. Fuck's sake. All I know is that he fucked off with Alison, right? That's all I know. And he should be shot. She's sixteen. They could put him behind bars for a stunt like that.'

The rugby players make a loud exit, chanting that they're either going to eat pizza or Ibiza. Either way, it's good fucking riddance.

'What does he look like?' I say.

Kev looks at me, incredulous. 'You're after a bloke and you don't know what he looks like?’

‘Tell me what he looks like, Kev.'

He grins, shakes his head. 'Fuckin' hell. What do I care, eh? He's tall, dark hair. Grey in it, know what I mean? Not fat, not thin.' He shrugs. 'Just looks like a bloke.'

'Oh, you're tons of help.'

Kev takes another drag. He doesn't look like he's used to smoking, got that kid playing adult thing going on. Look at me, I'm smoking. I'm a grown up. 'I didn't know they'd actually do it,' he says. 'I just thought it was talk. People are always whinging about something. And I didn't think she had the guts to do it, didn't think she'd be so bloody stupid. Listen, mate, you think what you want, but we had something going, me and her.'

I've been getting an honest-to-God Jilted John vibe from him all night. It's grown the more booze he pours down his neck. But that's the kind of drunk he is. Regretful, emotional, one step away from a Loretta Lynn song and self-pity rolling down his cheeks. He knows there was nothing between them, but the sick romantic can't give that up.

I don't give a shit as long as the information's correct.

I knew they'd send someone, y'know,' he says. 'I knew it would happen. I even told her, said, "Look, there's not enough money in the world to make you safe".'

'Should've argued your case a bit better.'

'He's a prick, y'know. Rob. I know I said I didn't know him, but I know his fuckin' type. He'll blow the lot. He'll flush it down the bog.'

'He have a drug problem?'

Kev looks at me with a sheen on his eyes. 'He's got a losing problem. He's a punter. There's not a dealer in that place who isn't. Dealers, man. Fuckin' dealers, they reckon they've all got the inside track on the bet. Like they deal the games, they know the way they work. You watch people lose all night, and you think you're better than them?'

Not better, I think. Just different.

'You're a good lad, Kev. Don't let this place grind you down.' I get to my feet.

'What's going to happen to them?' he asks. I rub out my cigarette. I don't know.’

‘Then what are you doing?'

'I'm being paid to find them, Kev. After that, it's out of my hands.'

'So you're setting them up,' he says. 'I'm just hired to find them.'

'You're a fuckin' hatchet man. You're setting them up.’

‘Go home. Get some sleep.'

He pulls himself out of his slump. 'You're a fuckin' hatchet man!' he shouts.

I walk away from the table, resist the urge to reach across and smack him hard in the nose. He repeats himself, then deflates like someone stuck a pin in him.

Hatchet man. Fuck's sake. I can't get anyone on my side.

EIGHTEEN

I were watching Predator 2 when the doorbell went. Put me spliff in the ashtray and downed me Courvoisier and got out me beanbag, went to the door to give the cunt some grief.

Dad stabbed his Rothmans out on the doorway. 'Mo.'

'Y'alright, Dad. I were just watching a film, like.'

'Uh-huh,' he said and he went into the lounge. Danny Glover were investigating a crime scene done by the Predator. Drug dealers dead all over the shop. I didn't give a shit, like. Already seen the good bit when the Predator fucked 'em all up, Rastas getting proper splattered all over the shop and this bird with her tits hanging out giving it with the vocals. Weren't as good as the first one, mind.

Dad looked down at the telly, grabbed the remote and knocked off the volume. 'You been working, Mo?'

'This and that,' I said.

'Pills is what I heard.'

'Aye, I do some pills. Some shrooms, some resin.’

‘It paying alright?' he said. 'I didn't know people were still doing pills.'

'The old school still like 'em. Sometimes I do 'em powder, like.’

‘Coke?’

‘Nah, the E.'

'Uh-huh.' He looked around. 'What's your mark-up?’

‘On the powder?'

'On the pills.’

‘Couple quid.'

Dad nodded. He looked like he were thinking about summat. 'You do the Bruce Lees, but you don't do coke.'

'Nah. Too hard to get hold of. You want some speed, I can get you some speed, Dad.'

'I'm not looking to buy, son. You be interested in the bigger deal?'

I looked at me dad. Then at the spliff and the brandy. Man, I wanted a drink and a draw right then, but it weren't right. Would've made us look like a junkie, unprofessional. 'What d'you mean?'

He were still thinking. 'I mean what I said. You interested in the bigger deal?'

'What, like smack or what?’

‘Like volume, Mo.'

I didn't know what to say. So I said, 'Aye, course I would.' Dad looked at the floor. 'Glad you said that, 'cause the way you're going, boy, you'll be lucky to keep peddling pills.’

‘Eh?'

I came over here because I wanted to offer you something. I wanted to get you involved.’

‘Cheers, Dad.'

'But I get word that you don't take leave it as an answer. You stood in front of me and you promised that you'd wait on the fuckin' call from Innes; you promised that. And I said leave well enough alone, let Innes sort it out. That's what I said to you, wasn't it?' Dad lit a Rothmans. 'That's what I told you.'

'What's this got to do with — ?'

'I told you to do nowt, didn't I? I said Innes was handling this.'

'Aye, and he is.'

'Then what's the score with Walker, eh?'

I shook me head. 'I don't know nowt about it, Dad.'

Me head jerked back like whiplash. Me cheek caught on fire. When I brushed the water away, I saw me dad with his hand returning to his side. 'Thought I'd raised you to be a better liar, Mo.' He walked over to me beanbag and picked up the brandy bottle. 'I told you, you took care of this, you'd fuck it up. You got Darren Walker to tail Innes, you got made.'

I gritted me teeth. Me cheek were flared, man. Fuckin' hurt like a bastard. 'Swear to God, Dad, I don't know nowt about it.'

Dad took a swig from the bottle. 'You lie to me again, son, I'll break this bottle over your skull.'

'You wanted to keep this in the family,' I said. 'You got no right to get Innes on this.'

'I had every right.'

'Alison's my fuckin' sister.'

'And you haven't got the nous to deal with it. You're your mother's kid, Mo. And I kept you on from the goodness of my heart. But you're old enough to get your arse kicked. So don't go pissing me off. Because I don't owe you nowt.'

'You're me dad.'

'I'm your dad, but I wouldn't trust you as far as I could shit you, son. You're a fuck-up. You're no good to me and you're no good to yourself. You want to get yourself a proper fuckin' job and stop playing the gangster, because you haven't got the bollocks for the real thing. You carry on playing and you're gonna get hurt. And I'm not gonna be there to kiss it better, you understand me?'

'I can handle this,' I said.

'You can handle the rough stuff if you want. You get to deal with Stokes but only when Innes finds him, alright? Don't go beaking it, Mo. You're nowt but a pair of fists and flick knife. Sooner you get that in your skull, the better.'