Read Online Cut To The Bone by Sally Spedding - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sally Spedding
Tags: Wales
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mattress, there a crumpled doll's pram and everywhere graffiti.
Baby Tickler Perv . We'll dock yer cock and newer ones since Saturday including giant-sized dicks in red.
Jez had told him about some old pamper sniffer who'd been re-housed in Gorse Way which led off on the right. He'd been roughed up twice already on his way to the Old Soldier. The one pub still open for business in the whole Estate, but with iron grilles over its windows, and some weird, tattooed guy guarding the door. Jez's Mum and a do-gooder couple called Molloy had spearheaded the local protest about this Malcolm Wheeler coming amongst them, but in the end everyone was duped. The council van delivered him and his battered suitcase to Gorse Way at three in the morning, during a thunderstorm.
Louis had followed the story avidly in the local press, searching for more detail as to what the perv had actually done and how come he'd not been banged up given the strength of feeling about it all. The Maggot called the law an ass more than once, and how the Coalition’s ‘Big Society’ was a con. ‘We need more surveillance, more jails, not less.’ The only half-decent words his so-called father had ever spoken and seemingly the only common ground between them.
One minute left.
He ruffled up his hair into a mess and slipped on his black-framed glasses whose lenses actually made things clearer. Certainly made him look at least like a Year 10 Grub - and a swot at that.
From his vantage point by the fence, Louis could see number 11’s concrete steps rising up from dog shit, beer cans, used bog paper like flowers with dried brown centres. He didn't mind. This was real. Not like his prissy home in Meadow Hill. Adrenalin powered through his body. He was more than ready for a fight.
Then came Mrs Martin pushing her way through the door which had more paint missing than on it. Kayleigh next, with Jez and the pushchair on wonky wheels bearing Freddie, bawling his head off while their dog, a black lurcher type tried sniffing Jez’s pockets.
"Piss off you. 'S me bleedin' lunch." The boy smacked its head, then saw Louis hiding in the shadows. Saw too, how his smile had gone. "Sorry mate. Whipper-in told me Mum she'll get fined if I don't show up at school."
"Five quid," Louis whispered, loading each syllable with menace.
"What?" The red-haired lad's mouth fell open.
"You've let me down, so you owe me. Besides, ye bin squealin', ain't ye?"
"No I ain't 'Onest."
"Ye was s'posed to meet me by the bloody bridge. So when'll ye be there?" His eyes had changed and Jez stammered.
"Half nine, Dead Man’s Hollow, OK?"
"OK."
His Mum turned round.
"Who's that you're talking to?"
"No-one."
"Let me see."
She relieved her eldest son of the pushchair and managed to get the brood down the steps. Then she saw him. So did Kayleigh.
"You Pete Brown?"
"So?"
She let go of the buggy and got closer, looking pretty wound up, but no way was he going to do a runner, least not in front of Jez.
"What's 'e bin tellin' you, eh?" He pointed at his mate. "I've a right to know."
"You're not welcome. Keep away from us."
"Well that's fuckin' charmin'." Louis stood his ground. Could see her tits under the tee shirt and wondered about the rest. The girl was staring. Little did she know what he knew about her. "Please explain what I'm s'posed to 'ave done."
"We'll save that for the cop shop if I see you round here again.”
She reclaimed the buggy, and, snatching Jez by the hand, took off down Wort Passage without looking back. When they'd gone, Louis waited a moment to recover his composure. His watch showed 8.50. He felt something touching his trousers. The dog dribbling cloudy yellow piss. Ribs moving under its fur.
He had time to kill. Forty minutes in fact. Payback time. To teach them all a lesson.
*
The dog was stupid - its eyes on him, same as that hedgehog six years ago. And look where that ended up. Louis felt the narrow skull snug in his palm. He
Baby Tickler Perv . We'll dock yer cock and newer ones since Saturday including giant-sized dicks in red.
Jez had told him about some old pamper sniffer who'd been re-housed in Gorse Way which led off on the right. He'd been roughed up twice already on his way to the Old Soldier. The one pub still open for business in the whole Estate, but with iron grilles over its windows, and some weird, tattooed guy guarding the door. Jez's Mum and a do-gooder couple called Molloy had spearheaded the local protest about this Malcolm Wheeler coming amongst them, but in the end everyone was duped. The council van delivered him and his battered suitcase to Gorse Way at three in the morning, during a thunderstorm.
Louis had followed the story avidly in the local press, searching for more detail as to what the perv had actually done and how come he'd not been banged up given the strength of feeling about it all. The Maggot called the law an ass more than once, and how the Coalition’s ‘Big Society’ was a con. ‘We need more surveillance, more jails, not less.’ The only half-decent words his so-called father had ever spoken and seemingly the only common ground between them.
One minute left.
He ruffled up his hair into a mess and slipped on his black-framed glasses whose lenses actually made things clearer. Certainly made him look at least like a Year 10 Grub - and a swot at that.
From his vantage point by the fence, Louis could see number 11’s concrete steps rising up from dog shit, beer cans, used bog paper like flowers with dried brown centres. He didn't mind. This was real. Not like his prissy home in Meadow Hill. Adrenalin powered through his body. He was more than ready for a fight.
Then came Mrs Martin pushing her way through the door which had more paint missing than on it. Kayleigh next, with Jez and the pushchair on wonky wheels bearing Freddie, bawling his head off while their dog, a black lurcher type tried sniffing Jez’s pockets.
"Piss off you. 'S me bleedin' lunch." The boy smacked its head, then saw Louis hiding in the shadows. Saw too, how his smile had gone. "Sorry mate. Whipper-in told me Mum she'll get fined if I don't show up at school."
"Five quid," Louis whispered, loading each syllable with menace.
"What?" The red-haired lad's mouth fell open.
"You've let me down, so you owe me. Besides, ye bin squealin', ain't ye?"
"No I ain't 'Onest."
"Ye was s'posed to meet me by the bloody bridge. So when'll ye be there?" His eyes had changed and Jez stammered.
"Half nine, Dead Man’s Hollow, OK?"
"OK."
His Mum turned round.
"Who's that you're talking to?"
"No-one."
"Let me see."
She relieved her eldest son of the pushchair and managed to get the brood down the steps. Then she saw him. So did Kayleigh.
"You Pete Brown?"
"So?"
She let go of the buggy and got closer, looking pretty wound up, but no way was he going to do a runner, least not in front of Jez.
"What's 'e bin tellin' you, eh?" He pointed at his mate. "I've a right to know."
"You're not welcome. Keep away from us."
"Well that's fuckin' charmin'." Louis stood his ground. Could see her tits under the tee shirt and wondered about the rest. The girl was staring. Little did she know what he knew about her. "Please explain what I'm s'posed to 'ave done."
"We'll save that for the cop shop if I see you round here again.”
She reclaimed the buggy, and, snatching Jez by the hand, took off down Wort Passage without looking back. When they'd gone, Louis waited a moment to recover his composure. His watch showed 8.50. He felt something touching his trousers. The dog dribbling cloudy yellow piss. Ribs moving under its fur.
He had time to kill. Forty minutes in fact. Payback time. To teach them all a lesson.
*
The dog was stupid - its eyes on him, same as that hedgehog six years ago. And look where that ended up. Louis felt the narrow skull snug in his palm. He
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