those days. Her face would appear in the end of the tunnel with a daft grin. She’d speak in a deep voice, I’m coming to eat you up, James. It was cool, because the tunnel had a killer echo when you were sitting inside. James tried the echo:
‘I’m a total idiot.’
The echo agreed with him. He pulled his coat hood up and did the zip to the top so it covered half his face.
*
After half an hour sulking, James knew he had two options: stay in the tunnel for the rest of his life, or go home and get killed.
James stepped into the hallway of his flat and checked the mobile phone on the table under the coat rack:
12 MISSED CALLS
UNIDENTIFIED NUMBER
It looked like school had been trying to get hold of his mum pretty bad, but she hadn’t answered. James thanked god, but wondered why she hadn’t picked up. Then he noticed Uncle Ron’s jacket hanging up.
Uncle Ron had turned up when James was a toddler. It was like having a loud, smelly rug in the flat. Ron smoked, drank and only went out to go to the pub. He got a job once, but it only lasted a fortnight.
James had always thought Ron was an idiot and his mum had eventually agreed and kicked him out. But only after she’d married him and given birth to his daughter. Even now James’ mum had a soft spot for Ron. They’d never got divorced. Ron turned up every few weeks, supposedly to see his daughter, Lauren. But mostly he came when Lauren was at school and he was short of a few quid.
James walked into the living room. His mum, Gwen, was spread out on a sofa. Her feet were up on a stool and her left leg was bandaged. Ron was in an armchair, feet on the coffee table, toes poking out of his socks. They were both drunk.
‘Mum, you’re not supposed to drink with your pills,’ James said, so annoyed he forgot his problems.
Ron straightened up and took a drag of his cigarette.
‘Hey Jamie boy, Daddy’s home,’ Ron said, grinning.
James and Ron eyed each other up.
‘You’re not my father, Ron,’ James said.
‘No,’ Ron replied. ‘Your dad legged it the day he saw your ugly face.’
James didn’t want to say about school in front of Ron, but the truth was eating at him.
‘Mum, something happened at school. It was an accident.’
‘Wet your pants again, did you?’ Ron giggled.
James didn’t want to take the bait.
‘Listen, James, me darlin’,’ Gwen said, slurring her words. ‘Whatever trouble you’re in this time, we’ll talk later. Go and get your sister from school. I’ve had a few too many drinkies and I’d better not drive.’
‘I’m sorry, Mum, it’s really serious. I have to tell you…’
‘Just get your sister, James,’ his mum said sternly. ‘My head is pounding.’
‘Lauren’s big enough to come home on her own,’ James said.
‘She isn’t,’ Ron interrupted. ‘Do what you’re told. He needs my boot up his backside if you ask me.’
‘How much money does he want this time?’ James asked sarcastically.
Gwen waved her hand in front of her face. She was fed up with both of them.
‘Can’t you two stay in the same room for two minutes without fighting? James, go to my purse, buy something for tea on the way home. I’m not cooking tonight.’
‘But …’
‘Get out, James, before I lose my temper.’
James couldn’t wait until he was old enough to batter Uncle Ron. His mum was OK when Ron wasn’t around.
James found his mum’s purse in the kitchen. A tenner was enough for his dinner, but he took two twenties. Ron would steal everything in the purse before he left, so James wouldn’t get blamed. It felt nice stuffing forty quid into his school trousers. Gwen never left anything lying around that she didn’t expect James or Ron to steal. She kept the big money upstairs in a safe.
2. SISTER
Some kids were happy to have one games console. James Choke had every console, game and accessory going. He had a PC, an MP3 player, Nokia mobile, widescreen TV and DVD recorder in his room. He never looked after any of it. If something broke he got another one. He had eight pairs of Nike trainers. A top-line skateboard. A £600 racing bike. When his bedroom was in a mess it looked like a bomb had gone off in Toys R Us.
James had all this because Gwen Choke was a thief. She ran a shoplifting empire from her armchair