Her inquisitive nature pushed her to look down in the footwell of the driver’s side, and there, just like in the gangster films, she saw a metal cosh. The centre console was another temptation, and her hands trembled; if she opened the lid, would she find a gun too? Just as she was about to go for it, she was distracted by the pub door opening. And there, taking up the doorframe, stood her father. Suddenly, she was seeing him in a different light. As if she was a gangster herself, she, like her father, scanned the surroundings. Was anyone watching?
He hurried over, opened the door, and threw a white cotton bag onto the back seat and pulled away. Kendall, still in gangster style, looked behind her at the building from which her father had just left. There, standing half in and half out of the doorway, scribbling something on a piece of paper, was a man almost the same size as her father.
‘Dad, a bloke back there is taking down your number plate, I think.’
Without a word, he looked in the rear-view mirror and came to a halt. Ramming the gear into reverse, he put his foot down and tore all the way back. He didn’t even close the door behind him after he’d jumped out, and before she knew it, he had pushed his way through some customers entering the pub. Within no time at all, he was dragging the man out and onto the pavement.
Kendall watched in horror as her father had the man in a headlock, clearly intending to smash the granny out of him. A mist of blood sprayed the wall. Her father didn’t stop, even after the man was out cold on the pavement; he continued to kick him deliberately and methodically. It sent Kendall’s blood cold, just watching her dad acting so mercilessly in full view of any residents who might be watching what was going on.
Kendall shook from head to toe; never in her life had she seen such a violent fight. No. Wrong. It wasn’t a fight. The guy had stood no chance whatsoever. Unsure whether to get out and run or just stay put, her indecision was halted when two other men came hurtling along the road, both of them wielding metal tools. Her father didn’t see them behind him. Kendall knew she would have to act quickly or watch her father being beaten to death. Making a spur-of-the-moment decision, she opened the centre console compartment, thinking that maybe there was a gun. What she would have done with it though was another matter. Her eyes tried to focus on a metal canister. She snatched it, popped the lid, and jumped from the car, hoping that the pepper spray was as effective as it was claimed to be.
One of the men who was tooled up managed to whack her father on the back, but just as the other one went to follow suit, she appeared like a whippet on speed and used all her strength to push down on the nozzle of the can and spray it directly into the two guys’ faces. Her father, who had been knocked to the side by the heavy blow, turned to see his daughter. In her Goth outfit and brandishing his can of pepper spray, she looked wild and fearsome as she went for his attackers in a rage. Suddenly, with their hands over their eyes, they backed off, coughing and spluttering. Doubled over, they gasped for breath as saliva ran from their mouths and snot poured from their nostrils.
He pulled her arm down and removed the can. She stumbled back in total shock and looked at the devastation. The two men were almost choking to death, and the man on the ground was bloodied and lifeless. Her father dragged her away. ‘Get in the car!’
Numbed by the event, she hurriedly did as he told her. He wasted no time in pulling away. Once again, Kendall looked behind her and this time there were a few customers peering out from inside the pub. She guessed they had stayed there while the fight ensued; it was none of their business. She knew then her father was a very dangerous man. Controlling her breathing, she wanted to appear unfazed; really, though, the experience had left her traumatized. She could have laughed out loud with hysteria, but, again, her veil of silence was her best form of protection. Like her, her father said nothing; instead, he drove like a bat out of hell until, finally, they were on a main road, heading for God knows where.
She wasn’t going to be the one who broke the silence. This was a world so far removed from her own, but, strangely, as the shock wore off, she felt an inner excitement. Her father, a hard-core gangster, it was laughable until she realized that what she’d seen had been anything but a laugh. In fact, if the truth be known, it had been terrifying. But she’d been an essential part of that. If she hadn’t been there for her father, he could have been seriously hurt or worse. She may have just saved her father’s life, so she wondered how he would regard her now. Surely, he would have some respect for her, wouldn’t he? She really wasn’t sure what to think.
‘You’ve been searching through my motor, haven’t you?’ he asked her coldly.
She hadn’t expected that! ‘Lucky I fucking did, ’cos I think I saved your life.’
A laugh escaped from his mouth and he said with an evil grin, ‘It would take more than those pair of mugs to kill me. I’ve pushed bigger cunts than that out of the way to get to a fight.’
Those words chilled her bones. She knew then he was capable of far worse, and her illusion of being his hero was immediately shot down, but she wanted some acknowledgement – at least a verbal pat on the back – for her timely rescue act. Yet the look on her father’s face told her she had as much chance as a snowball in hell.
‘But—’
‘Next time, do as you’re told. Any more sauce, and you can get out and walk home!’
‘But, I’m not a kid,’ she replied, now hurt by what she saw as a patronizing remark.
‘You are when you’re in my company. Got it?’
‘Where are we going?’ she asked, deciding to change the subject.
He flashed her a quick smile, and then he sighed. He could see just from his daughter’s expression that his words had hurt her. And the fact was she’d pulled off a fucking blinder back there at the pub. He was amazed by her quick thinking and courage to confront men who were seriously dangerous. But he wasn’t going to tell her that and let her think she was invincible.
‘Listen up, Kendall. I know you wanna move in with me, and I want nothing more than to get back at ya mother for what she did to us, but the plain fact is that ya can’t.’
She turned her face away, staring out of the side window, his words whirling around inside her head. He was so cold. Did he not realize what he’d just said? Her idea was that he would have her move in with him just to piss her mother off, as in some type of emotional revenge. It was a solid plan and she honestly thought he would go for it. She would have in his position. What the hell has happened to my dad? she thought. Well, if he was that stand-offish and callous, then why should she worry about worming her way into his affections. She blinked away the start of tears and cleared her throat. ‘So, Dad, you’re a drug dealer, I take it?’
He cast a speculative glare, stubbornly ignoring her, and pulled into a McDonald’s drive-thru on the A20. Once he’d put the handbrake on, he turned his whole body to face her. With an unreadable expression, he hissed, ‘You may think because you’re my kid, that you fucking know me. Well, ya can get that notion right out of ya head! Ya know fuck all, and, ya know what, Kendall? That’s just how I like it.’
Her breath locked in her throat. Glancing over at him, his eyes were empty. There was not a trace of