Born Evil. Kimberley Chambers
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Feeling shattered, she lay on her bed, imagining her partner and her brother getting on well together. She knew she was kidding herself, though. Deep inside she had a terrible feeling that they’d hate one another on sight.
* * *
Billy McDaid nodded to one of his regular punters to follow him out to the toilets. The guv’nor, Fred, was in today, and even though Billy knew he was aware of what went on here, he didn’t want to take the piss by serving up right under his nose.
‘Want a drink, Fred?’ he asked innocently as he returned from the Gents.
‘Yeah, go on, I’ll have a large Scotch,’ the landlord replied, busying himself behind the bar. He couldn’t stand McDaid. In fact, he couldn’t stand any of his customers. Scumbags and wasters, the whole bloody lot of ’em. He’d lived through a world war. These arseholes round here wouldn’t be able to survive a fucking thunderstorm!
Billy chatted away happily to a couple of cronies up at the bar. He’d been much more relaxed in himself over the last couple of months and finally felt that his life was on the up. Serving up in pubs suited Billy down to the ground and was much more appealing to him than freezing his plums off on a building site. He’d first fallen into his new career by accident. He’d been dealing to his mates, word had got around, and it had escalated from there. He didn’t sell anything heavy, just a bit of speed and puff, and he worked it from his three locals. He visited each boozer at a set time, on a daily basis, so his punters always knew where to find him.
Billy never took his work home with him. All of his stash was hidden downstairs at his mate Andy’s, along with his scales, wraps, clingfilm, and any other evidence that could incriminate him. If it all came on top, the last thing he wanted was to get Debs involved. They’d been getting on so well lately, he would hate anything to jeopardise that.
Noticing that the pub had suddenly fallen silent, Billy swung round on his barstool to find out why. He smelled trouble as soon as he clocked the two heavy geezers walk up to the bar and order a drink. Outsiders weren’t welcome in the Hope and Anchor; it was a locals’ boozer where everyone knew everyone. They certainly didn’t look like old bill, but they didn’t look like mugs either. If anything, the pair of them looked pretty handy.
Mickey and Steve sipped their pints and chatted quietly to each other. They knew which one of the punters was supposed to be McDaid because they’d paid a little kid outside a score to look through the window and point him out. Not wanting to make a tit of himself, Mickey decided to watch and wait. He needed to check if his intended target had a Scottish accent, hear him called by name before he made himself known. For all he knew the kid outside might have been pulling a fast one and he was damned if he was gonna mug himself off.
Sensing trouble brewing, Fred decided to call it a day and leave the honours to his barmaid Julie. He hated the pub; they could smash it to smithereens, for all he cared. ‘See ya, Bill. Bye, lads,’ he shouted as he made a rapid exit.
Hearing the name Bill, Mickey knew that he’d struck gold. Over the next hour or so he watched three or four punters come into the pub, follow Billy into the toilets and immediately leave the premises without even buying a drink.
‘Classy,’ Mickey said sarcastically to Steve. ‘He must use the khazi as his office.’
Steve laughed. ‘What we gonna do then, Mick? We can’t just stand here all day.’
Telling his friend to stay put, Mickey walked over to where McDaid was sitting.
‘You got a minute, Bill?’ he asked casually.
Billy was shitting himself. He was sure he didn’t know this cunt from Adam, but with all his mates’ eyes firmly on him, was determined not to show his fear.
‘How do you know my name? Who the fuck are you?’
As Mickey moved closer, he looked the skinny gutted arsehole straight in the eye. ‘Don’t you notice the family resemblance?’ Holding out his hand, he smiled as he clocked the alarm on Billy’s face.
‘Mickey Dawson, Debbie’s brother. Now, shall I ask you again, have you got a minute?’
‘Aye, nice to meet yer, Mickey. I’ve heard lots about yer. What are yer having?’
‘I don’t want a drink, Billy, I just want a quick word with ya. Let’s go outside, eh?’
Unlocking the Merc, Mickey told Billy to get in the passenger seat.
‘I dinnae want to go for no drive, ye ken. My pals are all inside the boozer and I cannae leave them.’
Mickey smiled at him. ‘You worry too much, Billy. We’re not going anywhere.’
Once in the car, Mickey turned to face him. ‘Right, I’ve been to see me sister who informs me that you treat her okay and that she’s happy and so on. Me personally, I don’t like the sound or the look of you, but you’re my sister’s choice and not mine. Obviously, being her older brother, I will always be about to protect Debs and keep a watchful eye on her. At the moment, even though you’re obviously selling drugs from a khazi, I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. But – and I mean but – if you ever get her arrested, lay a finger on her, or treat her badly in any way, then you’ll have me to fucking deal with. Do you understand what I’m saying to ya, Bill?’
Lost for words, Billy nodded dumbly. Feeling nervous, he searched for the right words. ‘Look, I love your sister, man, I really do. I’d never treat her bad, I swear I wouldnae.’
‘Well, that’s okay, then. As long as we understand one another, we won’t have a problem. Now let’s go back in the pub and I’ll buy you a pint.’
Mickey nodded to Steve to join him and Billy as they re-entered the pub. He then spent the next half an hour chatting to his sister’s choice of man and trying to be as polite as possible. It was difficult; the geezer was an out-and-out prick. Finishing the last of his drink, Mickey forced himself to shake Billy’s hand.
‘Well, I’m glad I’ve met ya. I’m going now, but as I said I’ll be popping round again to check on me sis. I left her some money today to get a phone put on, so make sure she does, eh, Bill?’
‘Definitely. I’ll sort it, nae problem.’
Mickey smiled. ‘Good stuff. Oh, and by the way, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell Debs the ins and outs of our little conversation. Just say that we had a beer together, got on fine, and leave it at that, okay?’
‘No probs,’ Billy said as he waved them goodbye. As soon as Mickey and Steve walked out the door, though, Billy’s temper began to boil. The more cider he drank, the angrier he got. He was extremely annoyed with himself for being so gutless and not giving Mickey what for. Billy was a face round here in Barking, everyone knew him, and that twat had had the cheek to come and belittle him, make him look a prick in his own local? Ordering a pint of snakebite, he vented his true feelings to his mate.
‘Andy, you listen to me – Billy McDaid. You see that prick … that mug? I didnae lose it with him ’cause of Debs. But I’m telling yer now, if that cockney cunt ever comes back in here and pulls me out of this pub again, I’m gonnae do him, believe me, man. I’ll kill him. And if I find out Debs has been slagging me off behind my back, I’ll kill her as well. May God be my judge, I swear I’ll kill the fucking pair of ’em.’
DEBBIE EASED HERSELF into a sitting position. For what seemed like the umpteenth time, she hauled her oversized body out of the armchair and stood staring out of the window. She was worried sick about her Billy. He loved his grub. Like clockwork, he popped home about six for his dinner, and if by any chance he couldn’t make it, he always sent a pal round to tell her he would be late. It was now eleven o’clock and she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him. She just hoped he was okay. Surely if he had been arrested or involved