Nick Stephenson - Eight the Hard Way

“Nah, he just nicked stuff while he was there. He got a couple of car stereos and stuff.”

“You reckon we will be doing climbing and water sports and all that in just one day?” David scoffed. “That’ll take a week at least. You don’t know shit, Steve.”

“Yeah I do,” Howe said with indignation.

“Bollocks. You wouldn’t know an arse-biting jumping spider if it jumped up and bit you on the arse.”

The third boy laughed. “You two know each other?”

“We’ve met a couple of times, that’s all. I’m David.”

“Mark Bridges, and I don’t mind anything that gets me away from the house for a few hours. Me mum’s driving me crazy: ‘Why can’t you be like your brother? He’s in the Army and it’s made a man of him, while you just go through life making other peoples’ lives a misery! Trashing that house, Police at the door day after day. If your Dad was alive...’”

“If my Dad was alive he’d be out there nicking with me!! It was him what taught me how to do houses. Before that it was just stuff from cars, shoplifting, stuff like that.”

“Shut up, big man.” David said, throwing Steven a glare that dared him to reply.

They rode in silence for the rest of the journey, Mark enjoying his time away from home, Steven sulking at David’s rebuke. After another fifteen minutes they turned off the main road into an unkempt drive with a sign proclaiming their destination as Broughton Hall. Another hundred yards later the minibus pulled up in front of a dilapidated house. Weeds overwhelmed the garden and ivy covered every inch of the walls

“We can forget about water sports, climbing and go-karts.” David mused. “I bet this shit hole hasn’t even got a telly.”

The social worker opened the sliding door and the three boys stepped down, carrying their overnight bags. Once they were all out, he closed the door and the boys were alone, doing their best to keep dry. They were taking in the squalid surroundings when the front door opened and a man in his early fifties ushered them inside.

“Welcome to Broughton Hall. My name is Gordon Wells and I’ll be looking after you for the next two days. You’ll meet some of the staff later, but first let’s get you out of the rain and into your rooms. You must be hungry after your journey so dinner is being prepared.”

Inside the house they saw that the hallway matched the exterior of the building. However, a room off to their left contained a pool table, wide screen TV and DVD player, a selection of DVDs, two of the latest video consoles, a pinball table and a glass-fronted fridge containing countless soft drinks. Wells led them upstairs and the first room they came to mirrored the one they had seen downstairs.

“This will be your bedroom, Steven. As you can see, you have all the facilities that are in the common room downstairs, except for the pool table, so you have the choice of using them on your own up here or as a group downstairs. There is a menu on your desk should you feel hungry later on, but room service finishes at ten o’clock. All rooms are identical and I think you’ll find everything you need for your stay. If you could meet in the hallway downstairs in thirty minutes I’ll show you through to dinner.”

David and Mark were shown their rooms and Wells left them to take in their temporary surroundings. David put his overnight bag on the bed and walked slowly around the room, touching the equipment but not attempting to use any of it. He thought of his bedroom at home, with its ancient games console and a 14-inch portable TV to play it on, and the mattress on the floor.

The telephone next to the bed interrupted his thoughts, and when he answered it Wells asked him to join the others downstairs. The clock on the wall told him that he had been alone in the room for forty minutes.

David left the room and as an afterthought he returned and shut the door. In the hallway, Wells and the two boys were waiting for him.

“Sorry,” he offered, “I was just...”

“No matter. Come, let’s eat.” Wells led them into a room opposite the common room. A long table which could comfortably seat eight was laid with a lace tablecloth, an assortment of condiments and four place settings at one end. Wells took his place at the head of the table and turned on the 50-inch widescreen television which dominated the far wall.

“I hope you like The Simpsons.” Wells said. “It’s my favorite.” He rang a small bell and almost immediately a matronly woman appeared carrying a large tray. She placed it on the table and set four individual trays in front of them: cheeseburgers; hotdogs, chips and cottage pie. She took their drink order before returning to the kitchen.

They ate in silence, only interrupted by the serving of their various soft drinks and the arrival of the dessert trolley.

When the meal was over, Wells excused himself and told the boys he would be back in thirty minutes. “Is this what your mate told you about?” Mark asked Steven.

“They didn’t have half this stuff where he went. Have you seen all the stuff in the room? Mine’s full of stuff.”

“Have you got a thesaurus?” David asked, winking at Mark.

“No,” Steven replied, “but I got Resident Evil II and Vice City for the X-box, and loads of other stuff.”

“What he means,” Mark explained, “is that you keep saying ‘stuff’ all the time. It’s getting on my nerves, too.”

“Yeah? Well you can get stuffe...get bent.”

Ignoring Steven, who had gone into another huff, Mark asked: “What are you here for, Dave?”

“Criminal damage and assault. Me and my mum got moved onto a new estate where all the kids had mobiles, Wiis, DVDs and TVs in their bedroom, you name it, they had it. When they found out I had sod all they kept taking the piss. There was one kid called Callum who was a real shit. One day I had enough and bunked off school and went to his house. I found some paint in his shed and broke in, then spread the paint everywhere. I covered everything in his bedroom, ruined the lot. When they caught me for that, I found out he was insured and got everything replaced, brand new as well. After that I just beat them up when I saw them and they soon stopped taking the piss. What about you?”

“All sorts. Mostly nicking and vandalism. There’s nothing to do where I live so we have to make our own fun. I never hurt anyone and they were all insured, probably...”

“You wanna know what I’m here for?” Steven asked.

“To annoy us?” David guessed.

“To ruin our weekend?” Mark added.

Steven brushed their jibes aside. “I’m serious. I got 97 offences but they can’t do nothing ‘cos I’m only eleven. But then I’m doing this house and the old bird comes back early from the shops. I tried to leg it but she grabs hold of me shirt, and I swing out and catch her on the head and she goes down like a sack of spuds. They got me ‘cos I did about ten houses in that street and then when I put me hands up they tell me she went into a coma.”

“I was right,” Mark said, “you’ve just ruined my weekend.”

“Steven, give me your address before we leave. We can hang out and do stuff.” David said.

“Great!” Steven beamed. “I’ll give it to you later. I’m off to my room to see what stuff I can nick.” When he was gone, Mark looked incredulously at David. “Are you really going to hang around with that knob?”

“Don’t be daft. I used to live in the same street as that woman he put in a coma. She was really sweet, always giving us sweets and that. When me mum told me about it being in the paper I was really hurt. Now I know who did it I can get her some payback.”

“Good man. Give me a call and I’ll be glad to help out.”

The boys went across the hallway to the common room and had a game of pool, watched by Wells on a monitor in a side room. He turned to his assistant, Elias Sinden. “I think these two show some potential, but young Steven shows no remorse at all. I think he’ll need the full treatment. I’ll give them all the bog standard “you’re not bad kids” and point them in the way of some job opportunities but I think it will be lost on him. Besides, I think the older boys might be smarter than they’ve let on so far. How old are they?”