Born Evil. Kimberley Chambers
took the stairs two by two. He was desperate by now to reach the thirteenth floor and put everything right again. Out of breath, he dashed into the bedroom.
‘I’m so sorry, Debs, really I am. I promise you, babe, I will never hurt you again. I swear on my life. Please believe me?’
Debbie saw the sincerity in his eyes as he crouched down beside the bed. The baby had been kicking her all night and seemed as strong as ever. The love she felt for her unborn child was worth forgiving its father for.
‘Just get into bed, Billy. You were well out of order earlier, but I’ll forgive you, just this once. If you ever do anything like that again, me and you are history.’
Later, unable to sleep, she lay wide-eyed as Billy snored. Tonight had been awful but Debbie wasn’t about to give up on him, not just yet. It was obvious now that Peter had been speaking the truth about Billy’s past. Well, she’d made her choice and it was up to her to deal with it. Going back to her mother’s, cap in hand, wasn’t an option. Debbie was stubborn as an ox and the thought of Perfect Peter telling her ‘I told you so’ was a non-starter.
The only thing she could do now was to think positive: hope and pray that what had happened tonight was a fluke, a one-off. Turning on to her side, Debbie willed herself to go to sleep. Her baby seemed to move about morning, noon and night. She was having a nightmare pregnancy and couldn’t wait for it to end.
Debbie wished more than anything that she could ring her mother, talk to her and ask her advice. Angrily, she wiped the tears from her cheeks. She knew she had to be strong. There was no other way.
Peter’s last words to her still echoed in her mind.
‘Life is full of choices, Deborah. People make their own beds, and if they choose the wrong one, they should bloody well learn to lie in it.’
MICKEY DAWSON PULLED UP at the top of the cul-de-sac, turned the van around so he wouldn’t be seen, parked up and switched off the engine. Positioning the wing mirror so that he could clearly see his mother’s front door, he pulled down his baseball cap until it partially covered his eyes. Picking up his copy of the Sun, he prepared himself to wait, however long it took.
Ten weeks he’d been out of prison, ten fucking weeks, and he still hadn’t seen his mother or sister once, thanks to that jumped-up ponce they happened to be living with. Not wanting to cause them any grief, he’d decided against bowling up to the front door. He’d been itching to knock and give Peter a right-hander, just to wipe the supercilious look off his face, but he knew that in the long run it wasn’t the best way forward. Debbie would probably have laughed, but it certainly wouldn’t earn him any brownie points with his mother. This was why he’d decided to borrow his mate’s plumbing van and was now waiting for the dickhead to fuck off to work before he made his move.
As luck would have it, he didn’t have to wait long. Ten minutes later the front door opened, Peter appeared with a briefcase, jumped into his Ford Granada and sped off. Not wanting the nosy neighbours to see him, Mickey grabbed his phone. When he’d gone into nick, mobiles were unheard of and he’d purchased his first one only a couple of weeks ago. It was an absolute godsend, especially in his line of work. His mum’s phone was answered on the fifth ring. A lump came into his throat at the sound of her voice.
‘Mum, it’s me. I’m outside in a Watts’s Plumbing van. It’s parked on the corner. I really need to see you. Come out for a drive with me and then I’ll take you to lunch. Debs can come as well, if you like.’
June very nearly dropped the phone in shock. She didn’t receive many calls in the morning and certainly hadn’t been expecting this one. Part of her wanted to dash outside and envelop her beloved first-born in her arms, but she was too worried about Peter finding out to go with her instincts.
‘Oh, Mickey, what are you doing outside? I’m not even dressed. What if somebody recognises you?’
‘Don’t start worrying, Mum, I’m in disguise. No one is gonna know who I am. Just put your glad rags on and get your arse out here! I’ve been sitting here, waiting for the Gestapo to go to work. The least you can do is come out for a drive with me and have a bit of grub. I am your bloody son, after all.’
‘Okay, I’ve already had a bath. I just need to do my make-up and get dressed … I’ll be about twenty minutes.’
Mickey smiled as he ended the call. It had been nearly three years since he’d last had the chance to talk to his mum properly and he was desperate to rebuild their relationship, even if it had to be done in secret.
Hands shaking as she applied her slap, June finally closed her make-up bag and began to choose her outfit. She settled on a grey jumper dress. She knew she’d gained a bit of weight recently so put a black blazer on top to cover her bulges. Desperate not to look old-fashioned, she added black suede boots and slung on some gold costume jewellery as a finishing touch. Mickey was her only son after all and she was eager to look nice for him.
She was a bundle of nerves as she approached the white van parked on the corner. Walking past it, she gesticulated for Mickey to drive down the road a bit. Her little community was very close-knit and she was determined not to get caught out. Peter would go apeshit.
Conversation was stilted at first – awkward, in fact. Mickey politely asked June how life was treating her. And June tactfully asked him about prison.
‘So how’s Debs?’ he continued. ‘Ain’t she at home, Mum? I’ve been dying to see her. Where is she, at work or something?’
June felt guilty as she explained the situation. ‘Haven’t you heard, son? She’s pregnant. She doesn’t live at home any more, she’s living in Barking somewhere. She won’t have no more to do with me and Peter. We tried to help her, really we did, wanted to pay privately for an abortion, but you know how headstrong Debbie is. She stormed out and I haven’t seen her since. I think about her all the time, son, I’m so worried about her.’
Spotting a lay by, Mickey pulled over. ‘Our Debs, pregnant? Fucking hell! What’s her address? I’ll go and see her, make sure she’s all right. I can’t believe she’s up the duff. What’s his name, the geezer she’s with?’
‘Oh, Mick, she’s picked a real wrong ’un. His name’s Billy McDaid. Peter had him checked out. He’s got a terrible track record. Been inside for drugs, violence, and Christ knows what else! Years older than her, he is. We tried to tell Debs, make her see sense, but you know what she’s like … she wouldn’t listen to us, thought we were making it all up.’
‘I can’t believe it, Mum. I’ll tell you one thing, though, our Debs ain’t silly. Surely the bloke can’t be that bad. Leave it with me. I’ll find out who he is and have him checked out my way.’
June patted his arm. ‘Thanks, Mick, but don’t go round there like a bull in a china shop. I’m desperate to know she’s all right, but I don’t want you getting in no more trouble.’
‘I won’t cause no agg, I promise ya. I’ll just find out where she’s living and then I can keep an eye on the situation, check up on her and that. I’ll have a quiet word in the geezer’s shell-like, too, make sure he treats her okay. It won’t hurt for him to know Debs has got a big brother. If he’s cute, he’ll know what he’s dealing with.’
June smiled. ‘You are a good lad, Mickey.’
‘I’m always there for you and our Debs if you need me, you know that, Mum. Now, how about that bit of lunch? There’s a nice little boozer down the road, does some lovely home-made grub.’
‘Sounds great, son.’
The meat pie, potatoes and fresh veg were melt-in-your-mouth material, but neither of them ate a lot. They had too much catching up to do. Finally Mickey paid the bill and cuddled his mum as he led her back towards the car-park. He loved her dearly and was overjoyed at being able to spend