pushed open the door and stepped directly into the living room. A sharp voice snapped at him.
“Who’s that?”
“It’s me, Jack.”
A pause. Then he saw a figure heave itself up from the floor. Another shape was beside him. Two people had been lying in front of the fireplace, where the embers of a fire still glowed. The second shape said in a drowsy voice, “Wot’s up, Donny?” It was a girl’s voice. Donny’s latest, Thelma, was with him.
Donny poked her hard. “Sit up, slut. We’ve got a visitor.”
She pushed herself onto her elbows. Even in the dim light, Jack could see she was naked. She made no attempt to cover herself. Permission would have to come from Donny first.
“Put the light on,” Donny said to Jack, and he obeyed, trying not to look at the girl now revealed. She was his age, only fourteen, but her breasts and hips were already full and rounded. Her eyes were puffy and in the light he could see she had a bruise on her cheek. Whether she’d got it from Donny he didn’t know and wouldn’t ask.
Donny reached for his cigarette papers and tobacco pouch, which were on the floor beside him.
“Roll us a fag,” the girl said.
“No. I only got enough for one left.” He was sitting up nowand he quickly went through the routine of rolling a cigarette and lighting it. The sharp smell wafted over to Jack, almost turning his stomach.
“All right, Jacko. What have you got for us and why are you so late? Lucky for you me and my bird weren’t in the middle of a shag. Could have been friggin’ embarrassing.”
“I – I fell and hurt my leg,” stuttered Jack. “I dunno, I must have fainted or something. Next thing I knew I was on my way here.” He swung his rucksack off his back and put it on the floor. “Got some good swag, Donny.”
He opened the bag and tipped out the contents. Donny got to his feet, pulling the blanket that had been covering him and Thelma around his shoulders. He was wearing tight underpants, and Jack couldn’t help but glance down. Donny’s private parts showed large and defined.
“Oi, Donny, I’m perishing. Give us a blanket.” Thelma was whining. Jack knew Donny hated that tone of voice, and he tensed with fear at the retaliation he thought would fall on the girl. But tonight Donny seemed to be in good humour and he let it go.
“Shurrup. I’ll come and warm you up in a tick.”
He drew on his fag, the red end throwing light onto his thin lips. The old scar was white. He stirred the contents of the bag with his foot.
“Looks good, Jacko. But you’re trying to pull one over, aren’t you.”
Jack tried not to shrink away from him. “No, Donny. Course I’m not.”
Donny blew a smoke ring and watched as it dissolved into the air. “Let’s put it this way. It’s now the middle of the friggin’ night. You’ve had plenty of time to go back and forth several times. But you’ve only got one sack. What did you do with the others?”
Jack could feel his legs starting to shake. “I told you I fell. I must have been unconscious. I stuffed my bag and came here direct. I swear I did. Just one bag.”
“Let’s see your stripe.”
Jack showed him the goose egg and blood on his shin. Donny whistled softly as if in sympathy.
“I bet that hurt bad.”
“It did, Donny. Really hurt.”
Donny bent down and brought the end of his cigarette close to Jack’s leg. He squinted upwards.
“If I were to stub out my soddin’ fag on that there stripe … well, it would be pretty bloody nasty, wouldn’t it? Especially if I did it more than bloody once.”
Jack didn’t answer. Oh God. He was afraid he was going to mess his trousers any minute. He could sense that even Thelma was watching them in fear.
Donny straightened up. Jack could see the excitement in the other boy’s eyes, the pleasure rising at the prospect of causing pain. Help came from an unexpected quarter. Thelma said, “Look, pet, he’s brought some tinned pears. I fancy some.”
Jack