Cleaning Up

Cleaning Up by Paul Connor-Kearns Read Free Book Online

Book: Cleaning Up by Paul Connor-Kearns Read Free Book Online
Authors: Paul Connor-Kearns
the brand new GTA. M had handed over the eighty quid to Junior who had the necessary fake ID, and made for a convincing eighteen. Besides, not many shop assistants were up to taking on Junior’s dead eyed stare.
    The store was well packed, buzzing with noise and fidgety anticipation - all the gamers with their itchy trigger fingers. He left the boys to get on with it whilst he chilled out checking out the display of second-hand and new mobiles. He was trying to swing a Blackberry from his mum but she kept onstonewalling him. His birthday was coming up soon and he’d work on it again - she’d fold. Ten minutes of browsing and Junior and M had been served, the pair of them sauntering away from the counter, shit eating grins plastered over their faces; GTA and Red Dead Redemption - fuckin’ ace.
    No hanging around the precinct today, straight back to M’s and into it. He kicked their arses as per usual - he was the Xbox king. He’d got a pass for the day from his mum, a trade off for his school attendance and he stayed at M’s till midnight. Eight hours straight, rotating the game between the three of them with the vanquished booted off to take his place on the grubby, battered sofa. He was on for most of the duration, only a stand down to get a bite to eat. He was the fucking champion alright.
    Pasquale was quiet, up on his on tippy toes when he got back home to the flat. His nose twitched at the familiar weekend smells. She’d been cleaning; carpet shampoo and furniture polish in the lounge, and that lemon scented stuff that he liked the smell of in the bathroom. She’d heard the door and called out to him from her bedroom. He let her know that it was just him.
    The next day he was up before midday. She asked him if he fancied a trip to Aunty Bet’s but he binned it as politely as he could. It was boring as fuck, all that catching up with family shit. He wolfed down his cereal and toast and as soon as he could he headed off back to M’s. Junior had beaten him to it by just a few minutes and he and M were already into the game. Pasquale gave out advice and abuse from the sofa, his upper body playing the moves, his fingers tensing and relaxing as M and Junior let loose at both their wins and their losses. By the time they’d wrapped it up they had played for nearly twelvehours and she was back in bed when he returned home. She’d left some of his auntie’s trifle in the fridge for him. This time she didn’t even wake up.
     
    Sarge Thomas had asked him if he fancied some plain clothes duty working on the muggings for the rest of the week and he was on it in a flash. Up on the Barrington paired up with good old Steve Morris, sitting out the shift in Mozzer’s cramped, battered and slightly humming Honda. He always enjoyed Mozzer’s company, Moz knew the game and he could be a laugh too. He had to be kicking 50 and, despite his rep as a dogged and capable investigator, had somehow avoided promotion over the duration of his twenty plus years in the service.
    They shared plenty of silence for the first half an hour of the watch and then, with a grunt of anticipation and a couple of warm up swallows, Moz had whipped out some foul smelling cheese and pickle butties and smilingly offered him one. Darrin took it because he was just about ready to chew off his arm. They tasted OK and ingesting it made the smell in the car a little more bearable.
    ‘So, you what do you reckon then Moz, all this shit goin on?’ He nodded down towards the flats.
    ‘Definitely be locals Dazzler - take your pick. We have a cast of fucking hundreds living round here.’
    ‘Arseholes eh, doing that kind of damage - for next to fuck all too.’
    ‘Aye, there’s no excuse right enough, living in a dump never makes it right. You know son I wasn’t always a leafy suburb man meself. Got brought up on the Coleshaw and it was never that easy down there, even back in the supposed good old days.’
    ‘True, I hear it was always a bit rum

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