Pocket-sized traitor.
It begins to ring again. Heart thudding, I toss it over the wall into the grounds of my cousin’s house.
I have nothing. Not the money I stole to start a new life, any way of contacting friends, or even a spare pair of knickers.
But I’m alive. For now.
So I run.
It’s hours later that I stop running on the other side of London, south of the river in a territory I’ve never been to. Croydon. I’m about as far from Waltham as it’s possible to be, but who knows where my cousin has contacts? I’m not safe.
With a lack of any better ideas, as the sun sets red in the sky, I go to a shopping centre. Is there anything more pathetic than going to a mall without money or friends? I walk down the fancy cream paving and, if this were a pop video I’d sing soulfully about my close escape and my loneliness.
Unfortunately, I can’t sing. Really. Cannot. I like to warble along to the radio when I’m in the shower, I mean, I’m only human. But I’m not cruel, so I’d never inflict my painfully tone deafness on anyone.
The arty thing I am good at—graphic design—wouldn’t have quite the same impact.
Making a promotional booklet about the benefits of running out of your home with nothing but the clothes you’re wearing. Planning a stonking-themed social media campaign to promote being homeless. Pick just the right font, and collate a perfect colour palette: park-bench-bed grey, I-can’t-believe-this-is-happening-to-me pink, got-no-money green, and hey-at-least-I’m-not-dead red.
I shove my hands into the pockets of my cut-off jean shorts. Despite it being summer, the temperature is dropping rapidly, and I shiver.
My neck prickles, as though I’m being watched. I look up at the row of shops and the walkway on the next level, but don’t see anyone.
Maybe it’s nothing.
Or it could be someone from the local mafia, ready to snitch and trade me in to Waltham.
How delightful being on the run is. Can’t think why I didn’t do this earlier.
I’ve been going into each one, asking about a job. But just like with my plan for freedom with a teeny bit of money stolen from my cousin, my luck is non-existent.
It’s kinda ironic. Waltham is one of the safest parts of London. North of the river. Fancy. Not like Croydon, that’s rough as a badger’s arse and known for preferring knives over words. But I feel safer here than I have for ages, despite everything. The warm sensation down my spine returns, awareness flowing up my neck. I look around again, and this time, I think…
Was that a grey shadow up there? Or a…
I shake off the strange, but not unpleasant feeling. I mustn’t be complacent. My aunt will have found the money I stole. Probably one of my cousin’s goons has tracked my phone to where I tossed it into the garden. I have a target on my back.
Anyway, I’m going to survive tonight, try to access the bank account my parents opened for me and get a job, and never venture over the river into north London again. Ever.
The hairs on my nape stand on end.
I turn, and I swear… It has to be my imagination. Waltham’s influence doesn’t extend this far into the coarser parts of London. I’m being paranoid.
Nevertheless, something tingles down my arms.
Am I being followed?
2
KANE
For forty-two years I’ve been an island, a man on my own. I’ve sneered at the London Mafia Syndicate kingpins who have suddenly begun to defer to their wives and coo over their babies. I couldn’t comprehend why men went soft over small creatures or became besotted with women. I saw no logic to it.
Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy sex. But the past few years I’ve preferred going to the gym and then using my hand over dealing with another person. Cuddling? Pfft. Not for me. I had no understanding of why any man would disregard the accumulation of power and money for the sake of a good pussy.
Until now.
I glimpsed my angel as I did my lonely evening round of checking all the businesses under my care are doing okay. It’s an old habit, from before I built the Croydon mafia and had billions in the bank, and I keep telling myself that it’s not necessary anymore. That I have plenty of enforcers and men who could do the simple task for me. It would be safer too.
