Tommy spent the rest of his birthday with his head under the blankets. He couldn’t get Rex’s trusting face out of his head. He’d loved his smell, his big slobbery kisses, and throwing sticks for him in the park. They’d been mates, best mates, and now he would never see Rex again. He was gone, like everyone else Tommy cared about.
‘You OK, Tommy?’ Ray tapped on the door. ‘I brought you a sandwich and a drink.’
‘I don’t want anything, thanks. But I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow,’ Tommy lied. He’d had to get out of meeting the other lads and having dinner tonight. Could not face food or company, so had feigned illness.
‘OK, lad. Give Connie or me a shout if you need anything.’
When Ray’s footsteps drifted away, Tommy propped his pillow up against the wall and punched it repeatedly.
He was no longer that innocent young boy he’d been before his mother died. He was now a streetwise, angry young man.
The course of true love never did run smooth.
William Shakespeare
Life in a children’s home ain’t no bed of roses let me tell you, but thankfully I managed to settle in fairly quickly.
The staff were OK, so were most of the lads, and I bonded with three in particular.
I also made an enemy. Wayne Bradley was a real pain in the butt. A nasty, vindictive, violent bully.
By this point, I was no normal teenager, mind. I had issues, plenty of them, and I wasn’t prepared to take shit from any bastard. I’d already nearly killed one wrong’un and I’d do it again if pushed too far. I had no fear. Reason being, I had nothing left to lose.
I often thought of my dear friends, the Darlings. But I had made my mind up that I never wanted to see them again. Their kindness would stay with me forever and I would never forget them, Danny in particular. But I needed no reminders of my short time spent in South London, thanks very much. I had new friends now and was determined to start afresh.
Sometimes in life though, all your plans go to pot and fate can be a fucker.
If only I’d known then what I know now.
You’ll see where I’m coming from soon enough …
Summer 1975
‘Behave yourself, lads. No scrapping or drinking alcohol. You’re to be back here by ten on the dot. Don’t let me down now, will you?’ warned Ray.
Tommy Boyle smiled sweetly. ‘We won’t mess up, and thanks again for giving us permission to go. We truly appreciate it, don’t we, lads?’
Standing behind Ray, Benny Crooks did a fingers-down-his-throat gesture.
‘Yeah. Cheers, Ray,’ said Martin Smith (a.k.a. Smiffy).
Knowing the first thing they would do was drink the cider they’d hidden earlier, Dumbo couldn’t help but giggle.
Tommy shook his head in despair as the four of them bowled outside. The monthly teenage disco at the local Catholic club was an extremely important event.
‘What’s that for?’ Dumbo winced, when Tommy slapped him around the head.
Luckily for Benny, his big Afro saved him from any pain Tommy’s right hand might have caused. ‘You’re such an arse licker,’ Benny chuckled.
‘And you two need to grow the fuck up,’ Tommy spat.
When his pal stormed off, Smiffy caught up with him and slung a friendly arm around Tommy’s neck. ‘You know what they’re like. They don’t mean no harm. They’re just immature.’
No way would Tommy ever hurt Benny, Dumbo or Smiffy. The four of them were good buddies, watched one another’s backs. But ever since what had happened to him, Tommy struggled to control his temper at times. He was no little squirt any more either. Since arriving at the children’s home two and a half years ago, Tommy no longer worried he would live the rest of his life as a dwarf. Not only had he shot up in height, his regular boxing training meant he could more than handle himself these days. He was strong, lean and the most feared lad at the home. That hadn’t always been the case, mind. That arsehole Wayne Bradley had led him a dog’s life once upon a time.
‘Here we go,’ Smiffy grinned, lifting the bottles of cider out of the bush. There was a no-alcohol policy at the youth disco. Only soft drinks were sold, but anyone even remotely cool would have a skinful before they arrived.
‘You got the hump with me, Tommy?’
Tommy glugged at the cider, then handed the bottle to Dumbo (a.k.a. Darren Prattley). Dumbo had earned his nickname because his ears were so bloody massive. He was also as thick as two short planks. ‘Nah. I ain’t got the hump, but you need to be more savvy in front of Ray. You and Benny acting like divs will only enlighten him to the fact we’ll be boozing.’
Smiffy lit up a cigarette. The monthly disco had only been going since May but was already a big hit. ‘Tommy’s right. You two need to act more sensible, otherwise you’ll balls this special privilege up for us.’
Benny nodded. ‘Understood.’
Dumbo grinned. ‘Yeah, sorry.’
By the time the lads arrived at the Catholic club, they were in high spirits. Lots of their schoolmates were already there, but the four lads always made a pact to stick together. Most of the kids at Eastbrook Comprehensive were cool towards them. Tommy had carved out a reputation as one of the hardest boys in his year, but because of their upbringing and the stigma attached to living in a children’s home, the boys always felt far more comfortable in one another’s company.
‘You look like one of the Jackson Five with that clobber on,’ Smiffy laughed.
Dressed in a silky orange shirt with a huge collar and beige flared trousers, Benny grinned. ‘Fuck you. I is the bee’s knees. You watch the girls flock my way. I got the moves.’
The lads chuckled as Benny danced to the sultry sound of George McCrae’s ‘Rock Your Baby’. Benny’s dad was from Jamaica and Benny had never met him. Tommy reckoned he must have been a cool dude though. Benny’s mother was an ugly fat cow, so the lad must have inherited his looks, charm and slick moves from elsewhere. He was popular with the girls too. At the last couple of discos he’d ended up snogging at least four.
Seeing Laura Higgins, one of the best-looking girls in his year, staring at him, Tommy turned his back on her. He knew he wasn’t a bad-looking lad because he’d been asked out by loads of girls, but he always declined. He had never even kissed a girl, not properly anyway. The thought of getting close to anyone after what that perve had done to him, literally filled him with dread. So he chose to concentrate instead on his boxing and football, and having a laugh with his mates.
Dumbo nudged Tommy. ‘Laura Higgins keeps looking at me.’
Rather than inform his pal he had more chance of flying to the moon than copping off with Laura Higgins, Tommy smiled. ‘Yep. I think you’re in there, pal.’
The rest of the evening passed in a happy blur. Benny stole