No One Gets Out Alive (21 page)

A slight bounce to his step, he veered towards the metal-framed coffee table. Checked the glass surface for dust as if this was a landlord inspection.

Grinning, he raised his chin, his eyes wide and hungry for signals, facial tics, anything he could use as he stared right at her. Stephanie held his stare with an expressionless face, but
suspected he could read her thoughts and feelings anyway, as if they were displayed on a screen. Maybe he had enough on file already to guess the rest.

Insights into his predatory personality had come too late. He’d worked her inside out. If her own thoughts were his prisoners too, then she was entirely incarcerated. By
this
.
This
thing
. There was no sign of compassion in those big wolfish eyes. No empathy at all. Only self-interest. How liberating it must be to have no conscience. And if you trained yourself
to think like him there would be nothing good left inside of you.

Was there a weakness? Vanity perhaps? Money most definitely. And the two were entwined: his need for power and status, his need to own bragging rights, to be better, to exclude and to look down
upon others, because he knew he was also at the bottom.
A rat with the pretensions of a lion, trying to escape humiliation, like the rest of us.

‘You’ve changed your mind about my deposit. So what do you want in return?’

‘Blimey, someone’s got out the wrong side of the bed, like.’

‘Cut the crap, Knacker. Tell me. Tell me what it is you want. What you can do for me, yeah? Which will amount to me doing something for you. Because nothing else really matters here and we
both know it.’

He looked genuinely offended, and ruffled, as if he’d underestimated her and her words had wounded him. Until the mask hardened in a fraction of a second and the grin returned. ‘Way
I see it you’re in no position, girl, to be making the demands for—’

‘Then see it another way. That doorway is a line that you don’t cross until I leave this building. Unless you are going to give me my deposit, you just leave me the fuck alone on a
permanent basis. How’s that? I don’t really care about what’s going on here, or what you thought I might get involved in because I’m skint and young and a girl. But
it’s not going to happen. Ever.’

He started to laugh while his complexion bleached, and that meant he was heating up with anger. The laugh was just a stalling tactic. Like a bantam weight boxer, he was taking time on the ropes
to peer through the sweat that had run into his eyes while he thought about his next move. ‘See, I almost like this about you. You’s ain’t afraid to speak your mind, like.’
The smile vanished so quickly she flinched. ‘But neither is I, yeah? And there’s nuffin’ I won’t do to protect the financial security of my family. My family home. So if
people don’t pay their rent, like, I have to take steps. I don’t give a fuck who they are.’

‘I paid my rent.’

His voice rose to drown her out. ‘Same fing if people interfere wiv fings that ain’t nuffin’ to do wiv them. I will take measures. I fink you know that. I fink you know I
won’t be treated like a cunt. There’s all kinds of people out there who will tell you the same fing. I ain’t called Knacker for nuffin’.’ Smiling again, he sat on the
very edge of the table. She wanted him to sit his bony backside in the middle so he would go through the glass.

He sniffed with satisfaction after his little speech; his putting her in her place as he saw it. ‘Why is you always puttin’ me in a bad mood, yeah? Every time I see you I have to go
and cool off afterwards, like. I always feel like breakin’ somefing. And all I was trying to do was help you out.’

Stephanie, literally, held her tongue between her teeth.

‘Way I see it, to cut a long story short, at the end of the day, like, you want your deposit so you can go and live in some scrappy hole. That’s your business. Ain’t my place
to tell you you is wastin’ your time wiv these call centres and biscuit samples, whatever, yeah? But you is a adult and you is making your choice, like. So I might be able to make that
happen, like, sooner than you fink. But I ain’t no charity, so you help me out and I’ll help you out.’

She couldn’t restrain the surge of hope, but stamped on the instinctive feeling of gratitude that tried to sob its pitiful way out.
Wait for the catch
. ‘So, what is
it?’

‘I was coming to that. But this ain’t somefing that can be rushed, like. This is business. A misunderstanding wiv the council that I want sorted out, like. And you being an educated
girl and all, I fought you might know somefing about how to deal wiv it.’

He hated asking her for a favour; she could see it in the way he tried to sound and look reasonable, like some responsible homeowner in a spot of bother with planners over building an extension.
His fingers twitched on his thighs and made little drumming movements. ‘I’m a working man, me. Proud of my roots. Bit rough round the edges, like . . .’

Here we go.
She wondered if she could swallow another bout of the mythologizing tinged with misty-eyed sentiment.

‘. . . and these people down there, on the council, like. They try and jam you up, yeah? Hardworking people are the first to get fucked over, like.’

‘What is it? Tell me exactly what you want me to do in exchange for my deposit.’

Knacker tensed up, alert to what he suspected was an attempt to redress the balance of power. His eyes had narrowed to such an extent she could barely see them at all. But she could almost hear
his thoughts, like mice scratching behind a skirting board.

‘It ain’t nuffin’ dodgy, like, so don’t give me that look, yeah? There’s some decent cash in this for you, so I don’t want no hassle, yeah? I been bending
over backwards for you since you got here. Let’s not forget all I’ve done. New room cus you didn’t like the first one. Best room in the house. Bottle a wine thrown in. Cheap
rent.’

‘I’m not looking at you like anything. I’m trying to understand how I get my deposit back. You still haven’t told me what you would like me to do.’

‘That’s all right then. But there’s a tone, like. I can hear it in your voice. I don’t like bad atmospheres, me. I’m a laid back guy. Can chill out like the best of
them, yeah? We just got a bit behind on bills and stuff. Council tax. Water rates. Few fings on the house, like. We been so busy setting up the business’ – he paused to assess her
reaction to the word ‘business’ – ‘and all this other stuff, like, wiv doing up the house, yeah? We forgot about a few fings that need taking care of. You follow?’

‘So pay them.’

‘Ain’t that easy when we is so busy here. We got a full day on, and if you ain’t doing nuffin’, I fought you could go down to the council offices like and sort it out.
Write a letter and all that. My solicitor usually does this sort of fing for me, but he’s on holiday. Got a place in Ibeefa. I go there sometimes. Very nice it is too. Anyway . . .’ Out
of the pocket of his silky tracksuit trousers, he produced a small pile of envelopes. ‘These been coming.’

‘Is that them? Final demands?’

He raised his chin and pursed his mouth. ‘Yeah, fought you could look over them. Shed some light on the situation, like, while my solicitor is away.’

Stephanie paused and tried to second guess what it was he was really asking her to do. He wasn’t too busy to go to the council offices because there were no renovations at 82 Edgehill
Road. The place hadn’t seen any attention in years. Knacker and his cousin did nothing but stare at closed doors, smoke cannabis, escort punters into the house, and lurk about like ferrets,
so time was not an issue here. But what was?

‘This one on the top, yeah? Red one. Is the most serious, I fink. I seen the sums, yeah. The bottom line, like. But them numbers ain’t right. Can’t be.’

She took the brown envelope and removed the letter. The top of the paper had a red border. She read it quickly. It was addressed to Mr Bennet. She recalled seeing the name before.
‘Bennet?’

‘Never mind about that. Business partner. Fings were put in his name while we was down south. Don’t worry about that. What’s it say?’

It said the water rates hadn’t been paid on the house for a year. And then she stiffened with discomfort and looked at Knacker’s face: at the frown, at the big eyes full of
confusion, while the features attempted to sustain a look of serious concern as though some great matter of national finance were under review. He couldn’t read. He was illiterate. Which
meant that Fergal was too or he would have read the letters.

‘You owe three hundred quid on water rates.’

‘Free hundred! For water? They’s having a laugh, ain’t they? Who’s the supplier, Evian?’

‘They offer a direct debit payment plan.’

‘Fuck that. I do everyfing in cash, me. That’s daylight robbery, but free hundred ain’t nuffin’ to me. They can have that and fuck off. What about this one?’

On the gas and electricity account the address was in arrears close to one thousand pounds. When she told him that was indeed the correct sum, based on an estimate, and that it had to be paid
immediately, he turned as white as the ceiling above his curly head.

‘And this one?’ His tone of voice wasn’t so strident now and Stephanie experienced the first spurt of satisfaction in his company since she’d moved in.

‘This is from a debt collection agency.’

‘Eh? Fuckin’ bailiffs!’

‘Yes, because like I just told you, you haven’t paid the gas or electric for three quarters. The letter says they are coming to take the meter out. It’s dated two weeks ago.
You have to phone this number to arrange payment or they can enter the premises at any time.’

And then he lost it. ‘I told him, yeah! I told him to take care of fings while we was busy. That cunt’s done nuffin’. He’s run up all these bills!’

‘Who? Bennet?’

Knacker cocked his head back. ‘Yeah. But don’t you worry about him.’ With a smirk on his face, he spoke like he was passing a capital punishment sentence on Bennet, whoever he
was. ‘And these come froo a few days back too.’

They were nine months old. Warnings from the council that there had been complaints about the state of disrepair in the front and rear gardens of the property. When she told Knacker this he
said, ‘They’s can go fuck theirselves. I might pop round later for a quiet word in their ear, like.’

The last five pieces of correspondence were also from the council and all threatened Mr Bennet with another debt collection agency for unpaid council tax. He was one year in arrears for another
twelve hundred pounds, payable immediately.

Knacker looked between his feet. Quietly, to himself, or maybe to her as well, he muttered, ‘You trust a person with a fing. Even wiv a simple fing. And you get burned.’

The show of self-pity made Stephanie clench her fists. ‘So you give me the money and I’ll go and pay off these debts. But I want my deposit upfront.’

Slowly, his head rose. The bloodless face beneath the dyed black hair was a slit-eyed sneer that made the marrow of her bones cool. ‘You is wanting your pound of flesh too, eh? Looks like
everyone is in on it today.’

A text message chimed its arrival on her phone. Stephanie looked at the screen, to refrain from having to look at Knacker’s horrid face more than through a desire to see who the message
was from. But knacker tensed and fixed his stare on the phone in her hand; his eyes were wide with an expectation, or sense of entitlement, that she should tell him who it was from.

The text was from Ryan:

Stephanie’s heart burst. She nearly wept.

She did some quick sums. If she got her deposit back from Knacker today, and another £150 off Ryan tomorrow, that was £310. Add that to the £120 she had from temping and she
could find and rent another room in Birmingham for four weeks. And still sleep in the cheap hotel tonight and tomorrow, plus the hostel on Wednesday. That would give her time to find a new room.
She would not need to grovel and beg Val to take her in. She became light-headed with a relief that might have been euphoria.

Knacker pushed his chin up, his expression transformed into a mixture of incomprehension and animal suspicion.

‘Temping agency. Might be some work.’ Stephanie replied quickly.

She sent the message.

‘Hang on. Hang on, yeah? We got an agreement. You gotta sort this business out first. Tell yer agency they can fuck right off. You is busy.’

She looked at him and he did that thing with his face, like Fergal had done: thrust it at her in provocation, daring her to refuse, to disagree, to contradict, to disobey. ‘Give it here.
I’ll do it.’ He snatched at her phone. ‘They’ll soon get the message you ain’t available.’

Stephanie clutched the handset to her chest. Her shock and disbelief made him pause; he retracted the hand and shook himself, as if shaking creases out of an expensive two-piece suit. He was a
desperate man on the verge of going too far before he’d extracted what he wanted from her, and he needed to compose himself.

Knacker sat back down. ‘As I was saying. What we will do, like, is give them somefing. Bit here, bit there. Payment plan you mentioned, yeah? Get them off our backs, like. Wiv letters too,
yeah? You been to college. You can write somefing explaining the situation that we been away. House was empty, like. Money wasn’t paid. That kind of fing. I shouldn’t have to pay
nuffin’ anyway, if the house was empty.’

‘And you’ll give me my deposit first?’

‘First fings first, like. I wanna make sure you do it right. Properly, like. I’ll go down the council wiv you.’

There were so many things she wanted to say. So many things that wanted to burst from her. So many terrible things she wanted him to feel. Above all else she wanted him to feel like
‘nuffin’, because that was exactly how he wanted her to feel. But she had to get the deposit back first.