Kimberley Chambers - Born Evil

‘Oh, Mickey, what are you doing outside? I’m not even dressed. What if somebody recognises you?’

‘Don’t start worrying, Mum, I’m in disguise. No one is gonna know who I am. Just put your glad rags on and get your arse out here! I’ve been sitting here, waiting for the Gestapo to go to work. The least you can do is come out for a drive with me and have a bit of grub. I am your bloody son, after all.’

‘Okay, I’ve already had a bath. I just need to do my make-up and get dressed … I’ll be about twenty minutes.’

Mickey smiled as he ended the call. It had been nearly three years since he’d last had the chance to talk to his mum properly and he was desperate to rebuild their relationship, even if it had to be done in secret.

Hands shaking as she applied her slap, June finally closed her make-up bag and began to choose her outfit. She settled on a grey jumper dress. She knew she’d gained a bit of weight recently so put a black blazer on top to cover her bulges. Desperate not to look old-fashioned, she added black suede boots and slung on some gold costume jewellery as a finishing touch. Mickey was her only son after all and she was eager to look nice for him.

She was a bundle of nerves as she approached the white van parked on the corner. Walking past it, she gesticulated for Mickey to drive down the road a bit. Her little community was very close-knit and she was determined not to get caught out. Peter would go apeshit.

Conversation was stilted at first – awkward, in fact. Mickey politely asked June how life was treating her. And June tactfully asked him about prison.

‘So how’s Debs?’ he continued. ‘Ain’t she at home, Mum? I’ve been dying to see her. Where is she, at work or something?’

June felt guilty as she explained the situation. ‘Haven’t you heard, son? She’s pregnant. She doesn’t live at home any more, she’s living in Barking somewhere. She won’t have no more to do with me and Peter. We tried to help her, really we did, wanted to pay privately for an abortion, but you know how headstrong Debbie is. She stormed out and I haven’t seen her since. I think about her all the time, son, I’m so worried about her.’

Spotting a lay by, Mickey pulled over. ‘Our Debs, pregnant? Fucking hell! What’s her address? I’ll go and see her, make sure she’s all right. I can’t believe she’s up the duff. What’s his name, the geezer she’s with?’

‘Oh, Mick, she’s picked a real wrong ’un. His name’s Billy McDaid. Peter had him checked out. He’s got a terrible track record. Been inside for drugs, violence, and Christ knows what else! Years older than her, he is. We tried to tell Debs, make her see sense, but you know what she’s like … she wouldn’t listen to us, thought we were making it all up.’

‘I can’t believe it, Mum. I’ll tell you one thing, though, our Debs ain’t silly. Surely the bloke can’t be that bad. Leave it with me. I’ll find out who he is and have him checked out my way.’

June patted his arm. ‘Thanks, Mick, but don’t go round there like a bull in a china shop. I’m desperate to know she’s all right, but I don’t want you getting in no more trouble.’

‘I won’t cause no agg, I promise ya. I’ll just find out where she’s living and then I can keep an eye on the situation, check up on her and that. I’ll have a quiet word in the geezer’s shell-like, too, make sure he treats her okay. It won’t hurt for him to know Debs has got a big brother. If he’s cute, he’ll know what he’s dealing with.’

June smiled. ‘You are a good lad, Mickey.’

‘I’m always there for you and our Debs if you need me, you know that, Mum. Now, how about that bit of lunch? There’s a nice little boozer down the road, does some lovely home-made grub.’

‘Sounds great, son.’

The meat pie, potatoes and fresh veg were melt-in-your-mouth material, but neither of them ate a lot. They had too much catching up to do. Finally Mickey paid the bill and cuddled his mum as he led her back towards the car-park. He loved her dearly and was overjoyed at being able to spend some time with her.

‘Are you plumbing now, love?’ June asked innocently, noticing the writing on the van.

Mickey chuckled. She didn’t have a clue, bless her. ‘No, I ain’t, Mum. I borrowed the van off me mate. I wanted to keep a low profile and my motor would have stood out like a sore thumb.’

‘Why’s that then, love?’

‘Oh, no reason, Mum. Just thought the van was more discreet to pick you up in.’

He daren’t tell her that he was swanning about in a brand new Merc. She’d have given him a Spanish Inquisition about where he’d got the money from.

‘So what are you doing for money? Are you working at the moment, love?’

Mickey chose his words carefully ‘I’m doing okay. I’m working as a party organiser, setting up functions and stuff.’

June shot him a surprised glance. She had her Mickey down for a lot of things, but planning parties wasn’t one of them.

‘What do you mean? What sort of parties?’

‘You know … weddings, birthdays, anniversaries. All sorts of stuff, Mum.’

June knew he was lying, but decided not to pry. The less she knew about his lifestyle, the less she would worry.

‘Where do you want dropping, Mum? I take it you don’t want me pulling into the turning.’

‘Drop me by that little shop, Mickey. I need to get a loaf.’

Bumping the van on to a stretch of kerb, Mickey leaned over and hugged her tightly. ‘Does Peter always leave for work at the same time?’

June ruffled her son’s dark hair, just as she’d done a million times when he was a little boy. ‘I can’t get out a lot, Mickey, you know what Peter’s like. I can probably manage it about once a month. He’s normally gone to work by ten but ring first, just in case. And do me a favour, son – find out how Debbie’s doing. As soon as you have any news, ring me and let me know. I’ve been worried sick about her.’

‘I’ll ring you when I’ve seen her, but I have to say a lot of this is your own fault, Mum. You should never have lost contact with her, nor with me. We’re your kids, at the end of the day. I know we’re not perfect but blood’s thicker than water. You shouldn’t let that prick dictate to you. You have to learn to stand up to him before it’s too late.’

June opened the door of the van and climbed out.

‘Let’s not spoil a good day, Mickey. I can’t deal with this conversation right now. I’ll see you soon, love. Ring me as soon as you have any news about Debs. Take care, son. Love ya.’

June had tears in her eyes as she left her beloved boy and began the short walk home. She knew what he’d said to her had been right. She also knew that she was too weak to do anything about it. Peter was so bloody domineering and if she started standing up to him, she was worried her days as his wife would be numbered. In Peter’s world women were to be seen and not heard.

Mickey hit the A13 and headed back towards Bow. He’d been living there since he’d come out of the Scrubs. It was only a temporary thing, just till he got back on his feet. He was planning to move out to Essex once he got a few bob behind him, but for now Bow and his one-bedroomed bachelor pad suited him fine. He’d spent a fair few years as a kid there, working on Roman Road Market, and he knew the area and its inhabitants inside out. In fact, most of his contacts came from that neck of the woods.

Life was sweet for Mickey at the moment and had been since the day he’d walked out of nick. The money was rolling in thick and fast. He’d hooked up with an old pal of his, Big Stevie Roberts, and they were currently on to a nice little earner.

Big Steve had told him about his newfound business venture while he’d been on the inside. It wasn’t until Mickey was released that he realised just how big it really was. Illegal raves were fucking massive, and he and Steve were currently netting a fortune, organising the little beauties. This was the score. Scour the M25, find a friendly farmer, smile at him, offer him a big wad of money … and Bob’s your fucking uncle.