Read Online Even the Dogs: A Novel by Jon McGregor - Free Book Online Page A

by the incinerator where these huge heating pipes go under the shopping centre, it was warm enough in there but there were too many rats, big fierce cunts that even Einstein was smart enough to leave alone, so they gave up staying in there. Tried sleeping in the toilets sometimes but they mostly got kicked out. Sleep weren’t even the right word for it. One last fix to get their heads down and then it was like no more than a blink before they were awake again and cold and sick and crawling around looking for the next score. Might have been a few hours but it never felt more than a minute. Woke in some yard one morning and found a whole bunch of dead mice about the place, frozen solid. Lucky they woke up at all that time. Some cunts don’t. Easy to get too cold and not wake up, easy to get damp and stay damp and not do any fucking thing about it, numbed out by the gear and it don’t feel no different anyway. End up frozen solid like them mice. Take a last dig and curl up and go to sleep and never fucking wake up. Some bloke looks like he’s still snoozing in the morning only he’s gone milky-blue and he’s stone cold to the touch. It happens. There’s worse ways to go. But the Parkside flats was better than that. Four walls and a roof and no one to bother them. They could even leave it and come back, there were plenty to go round and they didn’t have nothing to nick. Made a change. Made the days easier when they knew where they were going to sleep. Sometimes seemed like he’d spent half his life looking for a bed. All the running and breaking and shouting and arguing and stealing and it was all about getting somewhere warm and dry to cook up and get some rest. Somewhere safe and quiet and it weren’t never easy to find. Don’t matter how many blankets there are if it’s in the wrong place. Don’t matter if it’s cotton sheets and feather duvets when there’s no lock on the door and a mean bastard in the house. Don’t matter if there’s a lock when someone
     
    Jesus but it aint much to ask
     
    Went down the other stairwell and found a kid standing there like he was waiting for someone, like he was waiting to do business. Cap on and hood up and one trouser-leg rolled, bike leaning up against the wall. Seen him around a few times and bought off him once or twice so asked if he was selling, if he knew anyone who was selling. Kid didn’t say nothing for a minute, just looked at him. Asked him if he was a mate of Ben’s, and when Danny said yes he gave him a number to call. Said to call it from the phonebox by the Miller’s Arms and ask for Michelle. Said it was difficult at the moment, said he’d heard there’d been a few accidents and it was all a bit on top. Danny was off across the courtyard, past all the doorways marked with a red painted X, back to the gap in the fence and off up the main road towards the roundabout and the Miller’s Arms and the phonebox
     
    Weren’t always easy to know what Mike was talking about and half the time it didn’t seem worth making the effort to ask. Weren’t always that easy to know who he was talking to anyway. Look round half the time and he’s on the phone. Ask him to speak up and he goes What’s that pal eh sorry I wasn’t talking to you. And when he was it didn’t always make sense and it was best to just go Yes Mike I know what you’re saying. All this stuff about the police, the government, surveillance agencies and that. All this stuff about watching your back and looking out for who might be listening. Harmless stuff most of it but it made him pretty uptight to be around. Like when he talked about those blokes being after him, the ones he said they’d seen down the centre. They hadn’t seen no blokes down the centre, not that Danny knew about. Always talking about someone being after giving him a beating but from what Danny knew they never had. Danny had taken a few since he’d moved up here, and plenty before that where he’d been staying before and