Kimberley Chambers - The Sting

And now her precious son was going to be well and truly initiated into the world Uncle Ted had introduced him to all those years ago.

Unable to sleep, Tommy could feel his heart beating at an incredibly rapid pace. He hadn’t got undressed, was too scared to in case he needed to run out of the house. He’d even debated whether to sleep down by the canal, but that was no long-term solution. Danny was right. Killing the perve was the only way out and he didn’t even care if he was sent to a bad boy’s home. Hazel might not have been happy in the home she’d been sent to, but at least she was safe from perverts like Uncle Ian. Anything had to be better than living like this.

‘Tommy, you awake?’

Having switched his lamp off, Tommy did not reply. He could smell the stench of alcohol mixed with cigarettes. He could also hear the perve’s laboured breathing.

‘Tommy, Tommy, wake up. Look, I am sorry if I shouted at you when you came home. But I miss what we had. I want us to be close again,’ Ian slurred.

When the perve began to stroke his face, Tommy wasn’t taking any chances. He pulled the dagger from under his pillow and plunged it straight in the left-hand side of Ian’s neck.

Stunned, Ian fell backwards on the bed.

‘You dirty bastard,’ Tommy bellowed.

Having guessed it would come to this, Tommy had already packed the treasured photos of his mum, Hazel, Linda and Rex in his duffel bag, along with PC Kendall’s phone number, his Millwall programmes and records.

‘Tommy, help me. Call an ambulance,’ Ian rasped, holding the neck wound.

Tommy took one last look at the fat bastard. ‘I hate you, ya nonce. I hope you die.’

‘Please. Please help me.’

Aware that his once grey-looking sheets were rapidly turning to claret, Tommy grabbed his belongings, ran down the stairs and legged it along the street as fast as his little legs would take him.

The nearest phone box was only a couple of minutes away, but it was out of service, so Tommy ran towards the Old Kent Road.

It was gone midnight and there were drunks staggering about the streets, but Tommy wasn’t scared. After living with that perve, nothing and nobody would ever scare him again.

There was a lad already in the phone box and Tommy silently willed him to hurry up. PC Kendall was the only person he could think of turning to for help in this particular situation. He was too young to run away and was bound to meet other perverts like Ian if he was forced to live on the streets.

When the phone box became free, Tommy darted inside and with trembling hands dialled the number. ‘Can I speak to PC Kendall, please?’

‘PC Kendall isn’t on duty at the moment. Is there anything I can help you with?’ came the reply.

‘No. I only want to speak to PC Kendall. He’s my friend. It’s important. I think I might have killed someone.’

The officer on night duty could tell Tommy was a kid. Instinct told him this was no crank call though. ‘What is the number you’re calling from, lad? Have a look and read it out to me.’

‘Will PC Kendall call me back? I’m not telling anyone else what happened, only him.’

‘Yes. I will call him at home. What’s your full name?’

Tommy reeled off his name and number, put the phone down and it rang within a couple of minutes, the shrill tone making him jump. ‘Can you help me, please? Uncle Ian turned out to be a pervert and I think I might have killed him.’

PC Kendall was alarmed. ‘Where are you, Tommy?’

‘Along the Old Kent Road. I’m not sure exactly where, but there’s a club over the road playing Ska music with lots of black people going in and out.’

‘Where is your uncle?’

‘At his house. In my bedroom.’

‘What’s the address, Tommy? I need to call an ambulance. It’s for the best, trust me.’

Tommy reeled off the address.

‘Right, stay where you are and I’ll find you. Stay close to or inside the phone box. I’m on my way.’

A man turned up, wanting to make a call, so Tommy had to leave the phone box. He was huddled inside a shop doorway, clutching his duffel bag to his chest, when he spotted Ronnie Darling walking towards him. Ronnie had his dark hair slicked back, was dressed in a smart suit with a pretty woman on his arm. Tommy had to look twice to make sure it really was him.

‘Shit,’ Tommy mumbled, looking at his feet, but it was too late. Ronnie had already clocked him. ‘What’s happening, Tommy lad? What the hell you doing sat there this time of night?’

‘I’m waiting for someone.’

Highly suspicious, Ronnie crouched next to the lad. He looked frozen. ‘Who? Only it’s nearly one and that club over the road kicks out in a bit. Full of Samboes, that is. No way am I leaving you here, it ain’t safe. Come on. You’re coming home with me.’

Tommy shook his head while praying PC Kendall would hurry up. It seemed ages since they’d spoken. ‘No. I must stay here. I’m waiting for a friend.’

‘Danny?’

‘No. Not Danny. Look, I’m fine, honest. You go.’

‘I’m freezing, Ronnie. What we standing here for?’ asked the pretty blonde.

Ronnie glared at his current bit of fluff. ‘’Cause this kid is a close family friend and he’s out here on his own. Jump in a sherbet if you’re cold.’

Clocking a car crawling along the kerb, Tommy leapt up. Thankfully, it wasn’t a marked police car. It was a Volkswagen Beetle.

As Tommy ran towards the vehicle, Ronnie grabbed hold of his arm. ‘No you don’t, lad. Who is this pal of yours?’

PC Kendall stepped out of the car and flashed his badge. ‘I’m here to help, Tommy. He called me. He’s in trouble.’

Ronnie looked at Tommy in disbelief. He’d thought the lad was one of their own. Had he been planted by the Old Bill to befriend his brother? Was he some miniature grass? ‘You little shitbag,’ Ronnie mumbled.

Tears stinging his eyes, Tommy shoved Ronnie in the chest. He felt so upset Ronnie had turned against him. His heart told him to blurt out the truth to Ronnie. But how could he? Tommy didn’t feel like a little boy any more. No way did he want the Darlings finding out what his uncle had done to him. That was shameful. ‘It ain’t what you think. Tell Danny and your mum thanks for everything. I will never forget you all. You’re like family to me.’

When Tommy leapt in the car and it sped off, for the first time in his life, Ronnie Darling was speechless.

Instead of handing Tommy over to the authorities in South London, PC Kendall took him back to Barking police station and gently questioned him there. He had already heard that Ian Taylor had been alive when found, but was in a critical condition and it was touch and go whether he would survive. Apparently, he had lost a lot of blood and had the police not broken the door down when they did, to allow the ambulance men entry, Ian would have been dead within minutes.

‘Can you tell us what happened, Tommy?’ asked the blonde female officer. She smelled nice and was quite pretty, like his mum, but no way could Tommy open up to her. ‘Can I talk to Peter alone?’ Tommy asked. PC Kendall had insisted earlier he was to refer to him by his first name. He could tell the lad had experienced a torrid time and wanted him to feel comfortable enough to tell him. He could kind of guess what had happened and his heart went out to the lad. Tommy had always been a good kid.

‘Let me speak to Tommy alone,’ Kendall urged his colleague.

When DS Bright left the room, Kendall repeated the question.

‘Uncle Ian did something bad to me. Really bad.’

‘Tonight?’

‘No. A few weeks ago, but tonight he was going to do it again. I know he was. He came into my bedroom and Auntie Sandra was visiting her sister again. That’s when it happened the last time.’