No Trespasing

The sign read no trespassing. A stock broker or city boy, returning home from another day in a glass fronted sky-scraping office, might wonder what it meant. Who would trouble to hang a pair of tatty trainers from a telegraph wire, leaving them dangling by the laces twelve foot above the street? Who and why? The message wasn’t aimed at them though. Besides, stock brokers and city boys were about as common as unicorns in this part of the city. Ben understood well enough the message which the trainers were intended to convey. They told him loud and clear that he was not welcome and would be wise to reconsider his travel plans. They marked out gang territory.

Normally Ben would heed the signal and go no further. Tonight he pulled the strings on his hoodie tighter and continued on down the street. Many of the streetlights had been out of order for years, he found that keeping to the shadows wasn’t too difficult. It was late evening and the roads he passed lay largely empty, the few people that Ben did encounter paid him no attention, just regular folk going about their business. He kept his head down nonetheless. Turning into another road he passed an armchair which had been abandoned in the middle of the road. It had recently been set on fire, a smell of scorched fabric still hung in the air. Half a dozen or so people clustered around the smouldering remains laughing and joking. In their hands they clutched bottles of cheap lager and cider.

“Got a smoke mate?” a man with a scruffy ginger beard called after him. Ben patted his pockets and shook his head indicating that he didn’t. The man shrugged and turned his attention back to the burnt out armchair. Ben quickened his pace a little until he could no longer hear the voices behind him. He wished he hadn’t suggested they met in Grafton but he had wanted to seem confident, that the gang issue didn’t apply to him. The truth was that, here, there were plenty of people who would be only too happy to kick his head if they found him travelling in the wrong post code
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Tasha

Tasha examined the image which gazed back at her from the cracked mirror. The black dress she had chosen was cut low to show off her breasts. She took off her glasses and placed them on the dresser. They were an ugly NHS pair which she had recently been prescribed, she couldn’t afford anything more fashionable. She thought her nose was a little too big but overall she thought she didn’t look bad, not bad at all. She carefully applied the last touch of make –up. Satisfied with her work she leaned forward and planted a kiss on the lips of her reflection. The girl in the mirror smiled back at her, Tasha was glad that the girl didn’t look as nervous as she felt.

Tasha heard the front door slam shut. That would be her brother leaving for the party. Oddie had been released from prison earlier today, everybody would be at the club to cheer home the returning hero. Tasha thought Oddie was a pathetic psycho. He had taken a gun into Crompton and fired three shots through the window of the Kings Arms at closing time. Thank god nobody had been hurt. For his stupidity Oddie had earned himself celebrity status with her brother and the other pea brains in their stupid gang. Tasha fired off a text `are we still on 4 2nite? Omw now.xxx’. With that she flung on her jacket, bounding down the stairs she called to her mum “Off to the party, see you later”.

“See you later honey” her mum called back “stay safe”

“I always do”

With that Tasha was out of the door and into the chilly autumn night.

Danny

“He’s taking the piss” glowered Danny taking a drag on his cigarette.

“Totally taking the piss” agreed Jon, bobbing his head. The gram of speed he had snorted earlier was beginning to work its way through his system, making him restless.

“This guy isn’t some powder puff though mate. You know Kieran? Does the boxing? Says he fought this guy a couple of years back reckons he’s pretty tasty. We pile in, mess him up, and get out before he knows what’s happened.”

“Taking the piss mate, Crompton asshole screwing your little sister, totally taking the piss” Jon rocked his head more furiously than ever as he chewed at the flesh of his cheek. “But how do we find him?”

“GPS mate” Said Danny “I turned on the GPS on Tash’s mobile weeks ago. The dumb cow still hasn’t realised”

Jon grinned like a rat

Ben

Ben heard the voices before he noticed the outline of two figures walking towards him. He couldn’t make out the words but they sounded young, aggressive and confident. Ben looked around wondering whether he could double back before he was noticed. The house nearest to him showed no signs of life. Deciding to hide there for a few minutes he jogged up the path which ran to one side of the building. A tall wooden gate blocked the route to the back yard. Ben gave it a gentle shove and slipped through out of sight.

Ben cursed as a security light clicked on and bathed him in fluorescent light. A dog barked, its claws scrabbling for purchase on a window which Ben only now realised was inches from his face. The animal’s ugly brown face was contorted into an outraged snarl, furious at the intrusion. Ben jumped back, his finger pressed to his mouth in a futile gesture to shush the creature. Then somebody was shouting “Who’s there? Get lost, before I set the dog on you”. The dog was in a frenzy threatening to break through the window. There was more shouting, another dog in the distance took up the call adding its own voice to the cacophony. Ben was already away and running into the night wondering how he might have managed to draw any more attention to himself.

Tasha

Tasha flicked on her lighter to better make out the graffiti on the wall. It was mostly gang tags, names and crude childish doodling. Somebody had written in careless red lettering `Gregg Smith is gay’. Instead of painting over it, or simply ignoring it, somebody, presumably Gregg Smith, had inserted `is not’ in black marker.

She checked her mobile phone, and saw that she was still a few minutes early. She was pleased that the park was deserted as she had expected it to be at this time of night. She pulled back the ring pull on her can of lemonade and took a sip as she waited.

Tasha thought that Ben made the world seem bigger and full of opportunities. Like her he wanted to get out of this city which promised them so little. Together they talked about art, the future, places they would visit someday, what jobs they might have. She had told him that, some day, she would love to visit New York. For most of her friends she might as well of suggested visiting Mars, the idea of travelling to America would be so alien to them. Few of them would leave the city, or even the few streets where they had lived out almost their entire lives. With Ben anything seemed possible.

Danny

Jon took out a key and used it to dig around in the corners of a clear plastic baggy. With a look of triumph he withdrew it, balancing a small pile of white powder on the tip. He blocked off one nostril with his index finger and snorted the powder into the other. A loud sniff sent a foul tasting cascade of speed and snot down the back of his throat.

“Christ” hissed Danny “Will you shut up, she’s going to hear you”

Danny figured they were about forty metres away from Tasha. They were crouched out of sight amongst the tangled undergrowth which was littered with discarded bottles, cans and the other assorted detritus of urban life. Danny was able to make out Tasha’s outline quite clearly. There was no lighting in the park but there were some houses near to where she stood which cast her in silhouette.

Danny nudged Jon on the arm “That must be him” he whispered. He nodded towards a figure who had entered the park. They watched as he strolled up to Tasha and embraced her.

“He looks massive mate” said Jon looking less confident than he had a moment ago.

“Tell you what” Danny slid an object from his pocket and pushed a button, a blade flicked out cold and grey “lets shank him” Jon nodded furiously, Danny wasn’t sure if he was agreeing or if it was the result of the speed which coursed through his bloodstream.

Ben

Tasha smiled shyly, Ben thought that she looked as beautiful as always. He pulled her close, relishing the warmth of her body against his. Planting a kiss on her soft lips he noticed they bore a faint but pleasant taste of lemons. He was about to suggest they take a walk down the railway tracks where nobody would be likely to see them when he sensed urgent movement. Pushing Tasha to one side, as gently as he could, he sprung into a fighting stance.

The first to reach him crumpled to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He had run straight on to the stiff left jab which invariably earned the cautious respect of Ben’s opponents in the boxing ring. The second figure crashed straight into Ben knocking the wind out of his chest. Ben stumbled back a few paces, locked in a violent embrace with his assailant, they fell to the ground together. Time seemed to slow down as Ben struggled against his attacker, rolling over and over on the hard ground. He realised he could hear somebody screaming. The man’s strength seemed to fade all at once, Ben found himself sitting astride the body. Ben’s hands felt sticky, holding them up to his face he saw they were streaked with some sort of black treacle. Then he noticed the knife which was protruding from the man’s neck.

Tasha

The interview room was cold, the walls which might have been white once were yellowing, much of the paint had flaked off leaving the concrete beneath exposed.

“Sorry about the temperature” said DC Welby “the central heating’s on the blink again”

Her brother was ok. DC Welby had already explained that to her. He had been lucky and the knife hadn’t done any serious damage. It would hurt for a while and Danny would be left with quite a scar, but he would be fine. Tasha was under eighteen so the interview couldn’t begin until her mum got to the police station. There had been no squad cars available to fetch her so she was on her way now in a taxi. She wondered what she was going to say. Tasha didn’t know whether the knife had belonged to Ben or her brother. Danny sometimes played the big man flashing a blade around. Ben had told her once that he never carried a knife, but maybe he had been worried enough about coming into Grafton…

It had been dark and it had happened so quickly. Tasha hadn’t realised it was her brother and his idiot friend who were attacking Ben. She had been scared he might get killed. As they struggled she had seen the knife fall to the floor and grabbed it without thinking. Before she knew what she was doing she had stuck it in the attackers, in Danny’s, neck. Tasha was pretty sure neither Ben nor Danny had seen her do it. She wondered again, what she was going to say.

Word count = 1996