Monkey Wrench (8 page)

‘Oh right,' I said. ‘First, remember the number, then dial it, and while she's doing that there's a maniac mashing up her skull.'

‘And she could use the phone for making appointments with guys as well. One phone, two functions. Clever, huh? You should tell the girls about it. Get rich and save your life all in one go.'

‘Why don't you get rich and get stuffed all in one go?'

‘I've got this mate, see,' Phil said. ‘Got a load of phones. Special price, Eva, seeing it's you.'

‘Ain't you listening?' I said.

'Course he wasn't. A bloke who wants to sell you something don't listen to nothing. I walked off.

‘Think about it,' Phil shouted. ‘You'll thank me.'

Thank him! I'd thank him to keep his hooter out of my business. I'd thank him to clean his lug-holes out with a plunger, except it'd probably suck out his one and only brain cell too.

Why can't people leave me alone?

I don't like people. They always want something. They always let you down. I forget about people when I can, but it's hard. They're always around, buzzing like flies on turds. Sometimes I'd like to get a ginormous fly-swatter and smash the lot – just to clear a bit of space round my head so I can think.

I like dogs better than I like people. Dogs don't talk. They don't say things you can't understand. They don't try to sell you portable phones. They don't chip-chip-chip away at your confidence. You teach a dog what to do and he gets on and does it. He doesn't stand there arguing, making you feel like a class A futtock.

On the down side, though, a dog can't make you a bacon sandwich.

I really fancied a bacon sandwich after all that training and aggravation, but I didn't have any bacon in the Static. And even if I did it wouldn't have been much use because I didn't have any bread either.

I let the dogs out, and they barged through the gate the way they always do. Ramses first. Lineker tries to get in the lead, but Ramses has a better sense of position and won't be budged. Ramses knows his place. He is top dog when it's a contest between him and Lineker, but I am top dog when it's between him and me. Simple. Life's so simple for a dog – do your job, get fed, go to sleep. Nobody expects anything more. I wish I was a dog sometimes. Especially now when I'm narked and hungry. I've got everyone on my back, and no bacon.

‘Lucky for some,' I said. The dogs were snuffling around, bumping into my legs, making sure I was who I used to be.

‘You always got me to look out for you and feed you,' I said. ‘Who've I got?'

‘What's the matter?' Ramses sneered in my head. ‘Going soft are you?'

‘Try me,' I said. ‘Go on, try me.'

He gave me the eye for a couple of seconds and then he turned his back and went off to inspect the gate. That Ramses! If he can't face me down he ignores me.

‘If you could make a bacon sarnie you'd be perfect,' I yelled
after him. But he just walked away. So I decided to go to the caff on Mandala Street. They make an ace bacon sarnie there. What they do is fry the bacon crisp, and then they fry the bread on one side in the bacon fat. That way the bread is squishy on the outside but it's hot and crisp and salty on the inside next to the hot crisp bacon. Magic.

It made my mouth water just thinking about it, and by the time I got to the caff I was so hungry I asked for three.

After the second one I felt better. I was just about to crunch into the third when The Enemy walked in.

This is what she does – she walks in as if she knows I'm here all along, like I've got a collar on, and she stands for a minute looking round, making sure everyone's behaving proper. And then she comes over to where I'm sitting like we've got an appointment or something, which we haven't. She comes over like she owns the place, head up, shoulders back, eyes open. Typical polizei.

‘Want another tea?' she said. No ‘How-do, what a surprise seeing you here.' No ‘Mind if I join you?' Nothing like that. Just ‘Want another tea?'

‘If you're buying,' I said. And I got my laughing-gear round the third sandwich. Even The Enemy, ‘I'm-in-charge' Anna Lee, can't spoil a good bacon sarnie.

‘Doing anything tonight?' she said.

‘Who's asking?' I said. See, she never comes straight out with stuff. She doesn't say, ‘I've got a job for you tonight, Eva, are you free?' She always asks her bloody questions first, like it's an interrogation. Polizei always do that. They ask you a question and they don't tell you why they want to know. You got to guess. And you got to hope to buggery you guessed right.

The bloke behind the counter brought the tea, and she grabbed her mug with both hands. That's another thing she always does. She laces her fingers round the mug like she's freezing – which might make sense on a cold night out in the open, but it just looks stupid in a stuffy caff on Mandala Street.

‘Why are you so prickly tonight?' she asked.

‘Why are you so nosy?'

‘Do you want a job?'

‘Why? You got one?'

She sighed and stared at me over her tea mug. I was getting under her skin. I grinned.

She said, ‘Why don't you ever answer a simple question straight?'

‘Why don't
you?'

‘What question?'

‘Have you got a job for me?'

‘Isn't that why I'm here?' she said. She looked as if she was grinding her teeth. Then she took a deep breath. She said, ‘Eva, I've got a job for you tonight if you aren't already busy.'

I won! I won. I won. I won.

I stuffed the last bit of bacon sarnie in my trap and chewed slowly. She waited. She tapped a fingernail on the rim of her mug. I swallowed. I washed it down with a good swig of tea. I wiped my lips. I was feeling great.

‘All right,' I said, like I was thinking it over. ‘What's the score?'

‘Eva, one – Anna Lee, nil,' she said. ‘But it isn't even half-time yet, so watch it.'

I had to stop myself laughing. She may be a copper, but she does get the picture. Sometimes. If you wait long enough. It made me feel even better. I won, and she knew I won. There's not much point winning if The Enemy doesn't know she lost, is there?

She said, ‘I had a bloke in the office this morning. He manages the estate agency just down the road.'

‘Yeah?'

‘He's got a lot of property on his books which he can't sell or let at the moment. Naturally. Trade's very slow in the property market.'

‘So?'

‘Well, with property standing empty, and Agency boards up advertising the fact, there has been a lot of vandalism and breakins. There are some squatters, apparently, but I'm not going to do anything about that.'

‘Why?'

‘I run a security firm,' she said. ‘It isn't the heavy mob. We don't go round chucking people out. My job's to stop people getting in.'

‘I don't mind,' I said. ‘I'd take the dogs. Squatters is a piece of piss to us.'

‘I'm sure,' she said. ‘But all the same, that's up to the owners of the property, not the agent. I told him that, and he understands. And anyway, I don't want to throw people out on the street when they've got nowhere else to live.'

‘So what you want me for?'

‘There are three properties – a house, a flat and a shop, right here – a stone's throw from your yard. I thought I could take you round and have a look-see. I've got some stuff in the car in case we need to do any emergency repairs or replace locks or bolts. And then, I thought, since you are more or less on the spot, you could keep an eye on them overnight. Until we can work out something permanent.'

‘That's it, is it?' I said. I was glad she was spelling it out. I like to know what I'm getting paid for. I forgot to ask once, and it got me into a lot of kak.

‘That's it,' she said.

‘What if I find someone breaking in?' I said. ‘Can I chuck them out? Or d'you want me to pat their heads and help move the furniture?'

‘Chuck 'em as far as you like,' she said. ‘I've been assured there's no one actually squatting at present, although all three places have been interfered with. We've just got to secure them and keep them secure. Okay?'

We left the caff and walked up Mandala Street. About halfway up, The Enemy stopped. She said, ‘This one here. Look. Someone broke in. You can see where the door was forced.'

I looked. There were the marks where the crowbar bit the doorframe.

How did I know it was a crowbar? I knew it was a crowbar because last night I was on the other end of it. It was the same door I forced for Crystal. Her ‘premises'. The place she said she was renting.

Renting! Ha-fuckin'-ha.

Bloody Crystal – always getting me to do her dirty work.

It was a good thing The Enemy couldn't see my face. If Crystal had been in kicking range I'd have booted her into the Balls Pond Road and back. What a nerve that little sow's got.

But the funny thing was the padlock I'd put on had been wrenched off. And it couldn't have been Crystal who did it. Crystal wouldn't pull it off, because Crystal had a key. Like me.

‘Someone's in there,' The Enemy said.

‘Who?' I said. I turned the handle and gave the door a push. But the door didn't budge. It was locked from the inside. Can you believe that? The cheek some people have!

‘Odd,' The Enemy said. ‘It wasn't like that an hour ago. There was a padlock on. We'd better see what's happening.'

She raised her hand like she was going to knock on the door. Knock? I'd show her knock.

‘I'll do it,' I said, and I charged the door with my shoulder. The wood shrieked and I went flying inside. I only just saved myself from landing on my nose by going into a forward roll. That's one good thing about wrestling – the first thing you learn is how to fall without breaking your hooter. I'm very good at falling over.

So I rolled and bounced back up on my toes. Behind me, The Enemy was saying something feeble like, ‘Don't do that.' But I took no notice. Who was she to talk? It wasn't her gym, was it? It was mine.
Mine
. And I didn't give any grubby squatter leave to park his arse in it, did I? Well,
did
I?

So I bounced back up on my toes.

There was a bloke crouched in the corner. He had a sleeping bag round his shoulders. He was on top of a pile of newspaper and he had a little gas camping stove alight in front of him. He was brewing up. All his clobber was strewn around. Untidy sod.

‘What?' he said. He looked scared out of his wits which made me stone chuffed.

‘What you doing in here?' I said. ‘This here's private property.'

The Enemy pushed past. ‘Eva!' she said. ‘Calm down.'

‘Out me way,' I said. ‘I got a job to do.'

‘I … I …' said the bloke.

‘Pack up and clear out,' I said, ‘or I'll pack you up and clear you out, and you won't like it.'

‘Eva! Shut up and stop jumping around.'

‘I'll pack him up and clear him out,' I said. ‘He's got no right in here!'.

‘Shut up shouting!' The Enemy yelled. ‘He's just a kid.'

‘It's my bitch,' the kid said.

‘Who you calling a bitch?'

‘
My
bitch,' the kid said. ‘Queenie. She's in the family way and I think it's her time.'

‘Queenie?' The Enemy got her torch out and turned it on. The light skipped on to a dark pile by the wall. The pile growled.

‘That's Queenie,' the kid said. ‘I was making her a cup of tea. She likes a cup of tea when she's stressed. I wish I had some sugar for it. She likes her tea sweet.'

The dark thing by the wall was a big old German shepherd. She was lying on her side. She only growled the once. Otherwise she just lay there panting.

‘Ain't she too old to have puppies?' I said.

‘She
is
getting on a bit,' the kid said. ‘I don't know how it happened, and now I'm worried about her.'

‘Sweet tea?' The Enemy said. ‘You give your dog sweet tea?'

‘She likes it,' the kid said. ‘It's her blood sugar. I think it's low. You're not going to kick us out, are you?'

‘Flaming Nora,' The Enemy said.

‘“Course she won't chuck you out,' I said. ‘I won't let her.'

‘Flaming
Nora
!' The Enemy said again. ‘Make up your mind.'

‘I have,' I said. ‘He's staying. So's Queenie. So up yours.'

‘Okay.' The Enemy fumbled in her pocket and came up with a fiver. ‘Go and get him some sugar then. And anything else that might help. You know dogs, Eva.'

I took the money. That bleeding Enemy. You never know where you are with her. First she wants to kick that poor little sod and his dog out in the street, and next she's buying the dog sugar for her tea. She just ain't stable – that's what's wrong with her. Her mental attitude's all up the bleeding spout.

So I trotted off to Hanif's, which is open all hours, and as I went I hummed to myself, ‘Anna Lee, The Enemy, She wanted to shit, then she wanted to pee. She changed her mind at half past three.'

I was feeling pretty pleased with myself, having got my own way again. All you need is willpower. You can even make things rhyme with willpower.

‘Hee-hee-hee, Anna Lee,' I sang to meself, and then Crystal came up behind me and grabbed my elbow.

‘Fuckin'
ow
!' I said, because my elbow was all bruised.

‘Sorry,' Crystal said. ‘What's happening, Eva? I looked out me window and there you was busting into the Premises.'

Which reminded me.

‘Those bleeding premises,' I said. ‘I thought that was supposed to be my gym. I thought you said you was renting.'

‘I never,' she said. ‘I said you would have it rent free.'