“Harry had a son.”
VIII
THE EMPEROR
HARRY - BEFORE
Steve’s face was utterly unrecognisable after the beating he had received from the Broadheads. He barely looked human anymore, and his face was swelled to the point he was struggling to see or breathe. He was producing a wet wheezing sound punctuated by the occasional bloody cough. It took every ounce of my strength to drag him back to the car and get him inside. When I asked the Broadheads for help, they almost turned their knuckles to me. I’d literally never seen anything like it, simply because I’d barely even had a fistfight when I was a kid. Steve seemed bizarrely unperturbed by the whole thing, and he was lying back in the seat like a corpse, only being able to breathe through one nostril. My hands were shaking so much that I could barely get the key in the ignition.
“I’m taking you to the hospital, Steve,” I said frantically.
“No, you aren’t. Just take me home. I’ve had worse.”
“Steve, you might be in serious trouble here. You need to get seen by someone.”
“Take me home,” Steve groaned painfully.
I finally managed to get the key in the ignition, and the car started. I immediately peeled out of the warehouse car park like we were running for dear life. We’d got what we came for. After Steve got beaten half to death, the Broadheads and I did a deal, whereby I had all the money I needed. Obviously, after what I’d just witnessed, I would rather have left empty-handed, but I didn’t have a choice. I came there to loan some money, and I was either leaving with a bag of cash or leaving in a plastic one with my toes turned up. As bad as Steve’s condition was, he didn’t seem bothered by it; he was fumbling around in his pockets only to produce a pack of cigarettes and light one. He coughed violently when he took the first drag on it.
“Why did they do that to you?” I asked.
“Fell behind on payments.”
“Christ.”
“Like I said, I’ve had worse.”
“Why the hell did you suggest we go to them then?”
“I thought bringing them a new customer might have afforded me a bit of flexibility. I was right.”
“That was flexibility?”
“Yes. If I hadn’t brought you, they’d have finished the job.”
Every corner I drove around, Steve wailed like a wounded animal. He must have had some broken ribs, at least, to say the least, but he refused to go to the hospital despite my constant protests. We’d finally arrived at the caravan park, and I helped him inside. He collapsed on the couch on a pile of takeaway food containers. I couldn’t believe the sordid life Steve was leading and how little he had told me of it. We used to be best mates growing up, but I’d moved on with my life, and Steve never really did. I felt sorry for him; he was obviously in a bad way and needed help, but I wasn’t in any position to give it to him.
“Do you need me to stay?” I asked.
“No mate, you get off. And it goes without saying, make sure you pay them back. And quick.”
“I will.”
I felt bad leaving Steve alone in such condition, but he was adamant he didn’t need any help and could fend for himself. I couldn’t help but wonder what I had just got myself into. It started off innocent enough, I suppose. I just wanted to please my wife. But now, I owed a significant amount of money to some unbelievably bad people, and to make anyone’s blood run cold, I’d also just gained first-hand experience on what happens when payments aren’t kept up with. I took the bag out of Steve’s car and placed it in mine. I tried to focus on the few positives and entirely ignore the overwhelming negatives of what I’d just got involved in. I took out my phone before I set off and sent Amelia a text.
Setting off back now. Steve sorted. I love you. H
Hurry! I miss you. X
I missed Amelia, too, but I seeing her now was out of the question. I looked at myself in the rear-view mirror, and all the colour had drained from my face, apart from the occasional splatter of Steve’s blood. I franticly rummaged around in my car for something to wipe the blood away with and stumbled upon a cloth. The bag from the Broadheads was sitting in my back seat, almost bulging at the seams from the amount of cash that had been stuffed into it. Part of me wanted to take it back and put an end this whole nightmare, but there was a chance I would emerge from of this whole situation physically and financially unscathed, so I decided to throw caution to the wind and take the calculated risk.
I made a pit stop at my mother’s house on my way home. I just couldn’t go back to the flat carrying my ill-gotten gains, which is why I’d have to stash it elsewhere. I just hoped against hope that my mother wasn’t in or was already too plastered to notice I’d walked in. Unfortunately, I could see the familiar haze of tobacco smoke drifting from the back door as I pulled into the driveway.
“All right?” I asked.
“What’re you doing here?” She replied.
“Just need to leave something here. Birthday present for Ames. John in?”
“No, he’s at work.”
“Fine.”
“I’ve been meaning to speak with you, actually,” she said.
Here it comes, I thought.
She had developed an annoying habit of cornering me when I was on my own. It was usually when she wanted to say something negative about Amelia or give me unsolicited advice. I tilted my head slightly and blanked my expression, waiting for the inevitable. She never liked my wife, and I made the regrettable decision of letting my mother in on a few disputes we’d had in the past. Nothing major. Ever since I made those admissions to her, she had been nagging me to leave Amelia by voicing an outright critique of my choice of women or bombarding me with irritating questions about our woes on conceiving a child.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea for you to be moving to Manchester?” She asked.
“Yes. My wife and I are moving to Manchester. We’re going to start a family. I’ve gone over this.”
“No news on the family front, then?”
“Not yet.”
