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Tommy followed his uncle into the small dining room that was adjoined to the lounge. The chessboard was out and there was a bottle of brandy on the table. The man grinning at him was fat, bald and looked older than Uncle Ian. ‘Hello,’ Tommy said awkwardly.

  ‘This is my friend, PC Norman. He’s off duty tonight and wants to have a word with you. I’ll leave you to it,’ Uncle Ian said, shutting the door.

  Tommy eyed the policeman suspiciously. He looked nothing like PC Kendall or any of the other local bobbies in Barking. He wasn’t wearing a uniform and Tommy could not but wonder if one would even fit him.

  ‘Sit down, Tommy.’ Norman patted the seat next to him.

  Tommy did as he was told. ‘Have I done something wrong?’ he asked innocently.

  Norman smiled. ‘No. But you are knocking around with a bad crowd. I have said nothing to your uncle as I didn’t want to get you into trouble, but those Darlings are bad news. I know you have been to the Millwall game today with Danny. I also know you went back to Danny’s house. You must promise me you will have no more to do with that family. Your Uncle Ian has been very good to you, taking you in when nobody else wanted you, so you need to be a good boy for him.’

  Tommy was a bit taken aback. ‘OK,’ he muttered.

  ‘The Darlings are bad people, Tommy. The last lad Danny got friendly with was found floating in the River Thames.’

  Tommy’s eyes widened. ‘No way! Really?’

  Norman ruffled Tommy’s hair. He was a handsome kid and he could see why Ian was so smitten with him. ‘Yes. Really. Keep away from the whole family.’

  ‘What did PC Norman want to talk to you about?’ Uncle Ian enquired later that evening.

  ‘Not much. Just told me to be a good boy. Can I go to my room and play some records, please?’ Tommy was confused. He felt at ease with Danny and his family, much more at ease than he did with his uncle and aunt.

  ‘Not so fast. I bought you some presents earlier. They’re on the kitchen top.’

  Instinct told Tommy he shouldn’t accept any more big presents from Uncle Ian, so he was relieved to see only sweets and football magazines.

  ‘Well?’ Uncle Ian grinned.

  Apart from flying saucers and blackjacks, Tommy wasn’t a fan of penny sweets. Linda had loved them. She’d scoff bagfuls. But he was chuffed with the football magazines; he only had one out of the five. ‘Thanks, Uncle Ian. Can I go to my room and read my mags, please?’

  ‘Not until you’ve had some supper and a bath.’

  Tommy froze. He was yet to get big stonkers himself (that’s what the lads at school called them) but he was sure Uncle Ian had had one last time they shared a bath. ‘I’m not hungry, I ate at Johnny’s. And I’m not dirty, I had a strip wash at the sink this morning.’

  ‘I won’t force you to eat, but you have to have a bath, lad. Auntie Sandra doesn’t like us to use too much water, so now’s the time to have one.’

  ‘No. I don’t want one.’

  Uncle Ian knocked back his drink and paced the room. ‘You are starting to get on my nerves, Tommy. I have been very kind to you, and not only are you lying to me, you are also defying my orders. Do you see me as some kind of a fool? Do you? I know exactly where you have been today and who with, you lying little toerag. Now do as I say. Go run a bath.’

  ‘OK. But I’m getting in it on my own, not with you.’

  Uncle Ian grabbed Tommy by the shoulders and pushed him up against the wall. ‘I make the rules in this house, not you.’

  Tommy felt extremely uncomfortable. Uncle Ian reeked of alcohol, his eyes were glazed and he had a twisted, vicious look on his face that reminded Tommy of Alexander when he’d come home drunk and lash out at his mother.

  ‘Bullies come in all shapes and sizes. Always stand your ground, Tommy, even if there are four of ’em or a bloke is bigger than you. You’ll survive if you get a good hiding. It’s better to fight back than surrender,’ Ronnie Darling had told him earlier today.

  ‘Tommy, Tommy! Get back here,’ Uncle Ian bellowed, when his nephew kicked him hard in the ankle and bolted up the stairs.

  Gutted that his brilliant day had been spoiled, Tommy flung himself on his bed and wept. He so wished he could speak to his sisters or hold Rex in his arms once again. He missed his mum most of all though. Why did she have to die? He hated living here.

  Ever since his mother had died, Tommy had taken to leaving the radio on low of a night. For some reason, the music comforted him and made him sleep better.

  David Bowie’s ‘John, I’m Only Dancing’ was playing when Uncle Ian crept into his room. Tommy decided to pretend he was asleep, as he usually did.

  Normally, Uncle Ian would kiss him on the head and turn the radio off, but tonight he was lurking and breathing heavily.

  ‘Leave me alone. What d’ya think you’re doing?’ Tommy squealed when his uncle put his hand under the blankets and started tugging at his pyjama bottoms.

  ‘Shut it. You belong to me now.’

  Tommy tried to scream, but Uncle Ian pinned him down and pushed his face against the pillow.

  Wriggling like an eel, Tommy didn’t stand a chance against a man who weighed seventeen stone.

  Tears streaming down his face, Tommy wanted to die. He had thought losing his mother was the worst thing imaginable, but it wasn’t. This was.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Tommy threw a stone into the canal and watched it skim across the muddy water. He’d spent the past few days hanging out here, could not face going to school.

  Stroking the stray dog he’d nicknamed Lassie, Tommy pondered his predicament. He had debated whether to call PC Kendall and tell him what had happened, but not only did he feel too ashamed to do so, the pervert’s words were still fresh in his mind: ‘This has to be our little secret, Tommy. You mustn’t tell Auntie Sandra or anyone else. Nobody would believe you anyway.’

  The awful happenings of Saturday night had only lasted a few minutes, but to Tommy it had felt like an eternity. One thing he was sure about was it would never happen again. He couldn’t and wouldn’t allow it to. The pain had been indescribable and he was still struggling to walk properly and go to the toilet.

  ‘There you are!’

  Tommy jumped at the sound of his friend’s voice.

  Danny Darling plonked himself next to Tommy. ‘Why ain’t you been at school? I was gonna knock on your door yesterday, but I didn’t want to get you into trouble.’

  ‘Not been well.’

  ‘What’s up with you then?’

  ‘Just a bug.’

  Danny eyed Tommy with suspicion. He hadn’t known him that long, but Tommy’s sparkling eyes and big grin had disappeared completely. ‘Has something happened? That Walworth mob ain’t picked on you again, have they?’

  ‘No. Not seen ’em.’

  ‘Well, you were fine over Millwall last Saturday and I can tell you’re not now. What’s wrong? I might be able to help.’

  Tommy angrily threw another stone into the canal. ‘You won’t.’

  ‘Has something happened to one of your sisters?’

  ‘Dunno. Don’t hear from ’em.’

  ‘You ain’t had agg with those weirdos you’re living with, have you?’

  Tommy wanted to cry, but instead kept a stiff upper lip. No way could he tell Danny the truth, but he desperately needed some advice. ‘If I tell ya something, you got to promise me that you will never breathe a word to anybody.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  ‘Swear on your mum’s life.’

  Danny did as Tommy asked.

  ‘I think my uncle’s a pervert. He made me share a bath with him and I noticed he had a big stonker when he got out. I’m scared of what might happen next, Danny. Say he comes into my room of a night or something? Say he touches me?’

  ‘The dirty shitbag. Ronnie was right then. He always said he was a nonce. Why don’t you let me tell Ronnie? He’ll sort the bastard out for you.’

  ‘No. You can’t tell anybody. You promised you
wouldn’t.’

  ‘OK. I won’t. What about your aunt? Was she at home when he got in the bath with you?’

  ‘No. She stays at her sister’s sometimes. If he comes into my room, Dan, what should I do? What would you do?’

  ‘I’d hide a big dagger under my mattress and stab the dirty fucker.’

  ‘Where can I get a big dagger from?’

  ‘Come with me. I’ll show you.’

  ‘So, how was school today, Tommy?’

  ‘Fine,’ Tommy lied, without looking up. He shoved a whole sausage in his mouth. Mealtimes were the only time he spent in his aunt and uncle’s company now and he couldn’t bolt his food down quick enough. How could that perve act like nothing had happened? Tommy couldn’t even look the bastard in the eye, let alone have a normal conversation with him. The most upsetting thing for Tommy though was that Ian was his mother’s brother. His mum had been such a kind, funny, gentle woman. How could they even be remotely related?

  ‘I thought we might go to Battersea Dogs’ Home this weekend, Tommy. I know how much you miss Rex and your mum and sisters. Perhaps a new furry companion is the tonic you need to perk you up a bit?’

  ‘The cats won’t be happy,’ Sandra hissed.

  Ian smiled at the woman he’d married out of convenience. He worked long hours at the factory, was the breadwinner, so she would have no say in the matter. ‘I was thinking of a small dog, dear. What do you reckon, Tommy? Would a dog make you happy?’

  Tommy pushed his plate away, his face distorted with anger. ‘I don’t want a dog. I don’t want nothing off you.’

  When Tommy bolted up the stairs, Sandra scraped the remains of his dinner into the bin, then silently washed the plates. They’d had to move out of their last address as a local lad had accused Ian of inappropriate behaviour. The case had never gone to court, the boy had withdrawn his allegations, and Ian had sworn blind to her he was innocent.

  ‘You OK, love?’ Ian asked. ‘Tommy will be fine. He’s missing his family and dog, that’s all.’

  Sandra nodded. She had an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps she should cancel stopping over at her sister’s next weekend. Only, if history were to repeat itself, she couldn’t bear the thought of vigilantes throwing eggs and bricks at the window again. She actually liked living round here.

  ‘I’m sorry, David, but …’ Tommy said, as he snapped each Bowie record he owned into tiny pieces and chucked them in the bin. No way could he listen to his favourite artist’s music ever again. ‘John, I’m Only Dancing’ had been playing when the pervert had done what he’d done.

  Tommy felt incredibly melancholy as the DJ on Radio Caroline played ‘Long-Haired Lover from Liverpool’. He missed his sisters immensely and hoped they were faring better than he was. Nanny Noreen had definitely had her landline cut off or changed. Tommy’s guess was she had altered her phone number so he could not contact Linda. He reckoned she had intercepted the post too, as no way would Linda ignore his letters. As for Hazel, Tommy could only pray she was holding her own in the home. She’d always had a fiery temper, so could look after herself.

  Picking up his duffel bag, Tommy took out the dagger. He ran his hand gently across the blade and was surprised to see blood spurting out of two of his fingers. Danny had said it was sharp, which was a good thing. Because, if that pervert ever tried to touch him again, Tommy would do what Hazel had done to Billy Fletcher. He would kill him, stone dead.

  *

  ‘Happy birthday to you,

  Happy birthday to you,

  Happy birthday, dear Mum,

  Happy birthday to you.’

  Wishing he could sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to his own mother once more, Tommy plastered a smile on his face. He had become good at doing that recently, especially in front of the Darlings.

  ‘I bought you these, Suzie,’ Tommy announced, handing Danny’s mother a box of Milk Tray.

  Suzie thanked and hugged the little boy she had become so very fond of. There was a sadness about him and she guessed it was due to all that he had been through. His mother must have been a wonderful woman, Suzie thought. Tommy’s manners were impeccable.

  ‘I got you this, Mum,’ Danny announced, thrusting a Carpenters album into his mother’s hands. It was easy to thieve down that record shop in the Old Kent Road. So simple, he’d also helped himself to three seven-inch singles.

  ‘Here’s my present, Mum,’ said Donna. She winked at Danny. Woolworths was also a doddle to thieve out of and she had presented her mother with far more than him.

  ‘And last but not least …’ Ronnie Darling chuckled, dragging a massive square thing into the lounge.

  With an arm still around Danny and Donna’s shoulders, Suzie looked bemused. ‘What the bleedin’ hell is that, Ron? Only, I ain’t got room for ornaments of that size in my front room.’

  Ronnie grinned. ‘No more scrubbing the whites and soaking our underwear in a tin bucket for you, Muvver. This does it all for you. It’s a washing machine.’

  Suzie put her hand over her mouth. ‘What! Like the ones they have at the laundrette?’

  Ronnie kissed his mother on the forehead. ‘Even better, angel. This one has a built-in tumble dryer.’

  When Eugene handed her some Mary Quant eyelashes and a bright red lipstick, Suzie hugged each member of her family. ‘How lucky am I to have such thoughtful children?’

  Suzie turned to Tommy and gave him a second hug. ‘And you can be my adopted son. You are welcome here any time, day or night, and I truly mean that, Tom.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Seeing Donna smile at him, Tommy quickly averted his eyes. She made his tummy flutter, a feeling he’d never experienced before. She also made him tongue-tied.

  Over the next few weeks, Tommy spent more and more time with the Darlings. He was now totally converted to Millwall Football Club, having been to a couple more games, and he couldn’t get enough of the boxing gym.

  ‘Tom, enough please. Tommy! What the hell you doing? You’re meant to be sparring, lad,’ yelled the trainer as he yanked Tommy away from the kid he had pinned to the rope in the corner.

  Tommy apologized to the boy and the trainer. He could not help the red mist that seemed to descend upon him the second he stepped inside the ring. All he had to do was think of what life had thrown at him recently, and before he knew it, he was knocking seven bells out of whoever.

  ‘What the fuck is wrong with you lately? Has that nonce done something else to you?’ Danny Darling asked, as he and Tommy walked home together.

  Luckily for Tommy, ‘The Perve’ – as he now referred to Uncle Ian – had been giving him a wide berth. Auntie Sandra had not been to visit her sister again and, bar mealtimes, Tommy either hung out with the Darlings or listened to music and read in his room.

  Spotting PC Norman, the perve’s mate, walking towards him, Tommy ducked behind a nearby wall.

  ‘What you doing now? Ya nutter.’

  ‘That fat geezer, he’s Old Bill. Ian is friends with him and if he spots us together, I’m dead.’

  Danny burst out laughing. ‘Who? Noncey Norm? He ain’t the filth, you div. He’s the local perve. Stand up. Don’t be a wimp.’

  Tommy did as he was told and was surprised when Norman crossed over the road and pretended not to see him. ‘You sure he ain’t Old Bill?’

  ‘Positive. He’s another oddball, like your uncle. Why are you dead if he spots us together? What’s been said?’

  Briefly explaining, Tommy was horrified when Danny chased after the man bellowing, ‘Oi, nonce-case, I want a word with you.’ Danny was totally fearless.

  Tommy chased after his pal and grabbed his arm. ‘Leave it, Dan,’ he pleaded.

  Refusing to look at Tommy, Norman cowered in the bus shelter. He was scared of the Darlings. Jack was a lunatic, which was why he was banged up, and Ronnie wasn’t far behind his father. They were like a pack of dogs – if you touched one, the others would be on you. ‘Leave me alone. I’ll call the police if you touch me.’<
br />
  ‘But you are the police, ain’t ya? Only that’s what you told Tommy, you fucking weirdo. You say one more bad word about me and my family and I will personally make sure Ronnie sorts you out good and proper. Why you lying? Pretending you’re something you ain’t. Ian put you up to it, did he?’

  Norman Jenkins could feel the beads of sweat dripping down his face. He always perspired when cornered or frightened. ‘Yes. Ian asked me to say it. I don’t know why, I didn’t ask. But I’m sorry and I can assure you, nothing of the kind will ever happen again.’

  ‘It had better not, ’cause if it does, Ronnie will break both your fucking legs. You haven’t seen me and Tommy together. Understand?’

  Norman could barely breathe. He might be forty-two years old, while Danny was only thirteen, but he’d been a coward for as long as he could remember. He hated confrontation, had been picked on at school, and he was annoyed with himself for allowing Ian to talk him into a lie that might land him in trouble with the Darlings. ‘I understand. Fully.’

  When Norman scuttled away, Tommy slapped his pal on the back. ‘That was well ace. He’s petrified of you. How comes?’

  ‘’Cause I’m a Darling, Tom. Everyone round here is wary of my mob. We ain’t a family to be messed with.’

  ‘Do you think I could come and live with you? I would be ever so good and do lots of chores. I hate living with Ian and Sandra.’

  ‘Dunno. I can ask my mum, see what she says.’

  ‘Would ya?’

  ‘Yeah. I’ll ask her tonight.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘Hello. I’m Mrs Ebdon from the children’s Social Services department. May I come in, please?’

  Ian immediately felt panicky. Surely Tommy hadn’t told his teacher or friends what had happened? The boy had been acting strangely, keeping out of his way a lot, but Ian supposed that was to be expected. He remembered the first time the same had happened to him. His mother had been a brass, used to leave himself and Valerie alone of an evening while she earned a few bob on street corners. He was only nine years old when a neighbour whom he’d called ‘Uncle Ted’ had forced himself upon him while his mother was out grafting. ‘How can I help you?’ Ian asked, desperately trying to sound composed.