Chapter 1 – In the City – Late for School

    In a small, cold flat in Ardwick, Manchester:

    Luke was fumbling with his ‘phone to switch off the alarm when his stepdad, Damian barged into his bedroom. Damian leaned over him and muttered, ‘I need more cigs, make sure you get plenty this time.’

    Trying not to breathe too deeply as Damian always smelt as if he’d brushed his teeth with cheap whisky, Luke said, ‘they’ve got cameras and stuff now at Zach’s. I can’t get away with anything from there.’ 

    ‘Well get them from somewhere else,’ Damian said.

    ‘Why don’t you just go and buy some?’

    ‘Because I’m skint. I lost some money last night.’

    Probably in a poker game, thought Luke. As Damian trapped Luke with his skinny arms, Luke noticed the ginger hairs covering several tattoos which had recently been touched up.  He had a roulette wheel, spinning dice and playing cards on one arm and a sleeve on the other of the devil riding a motorbike.  He also had three sixes just behind his left ear, which looked like an ugly spider and made Luke’s skin crawl. It was easily visible as he shaved his hair into a short crew cut, which he was convinced hid his imminent baldness. 

    Damian wasn’t the worst parent Luke had but he was in the top two. First place was still held by Luke’s real dad, who was doing a stretch in Strangeways prison for robbing a betting shop. Luke didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life, but he didn’t want to end up like either of those two losers. He knew if he didn’t get some cigs Damian would be twitchy and irritable. He was already obnoxious; he didn’t want to add angry to the list.

    He pushed passed Damian and went to the dingy bathroom. Stepping over Damian’s discarded boxers, Luke had a quick shower. He got dressed in most of his school uniform but like most of the kids at school, he wore a hoody instead of a blazer. Then he applied gel to his dirty-blond hair and spent ages pushing and pulling it into shape, making sure it looked as if he hadn’t spent any time on it. Glancing in the mirror he was finally satisfied with the result.

    Entering the cramped kitchen, he noticed the distinct smell of burnt toast, which meant his mum was running late again. She dropped a few pound coins onto the table for his lunch and threw a couple of Damian’s empty lager cans in the recycling bin.

    ‘Can you lend me a few quid, Beth?’ Wheedled Damian.

    ‘You only got paid a couple of days ago. What have you done with your money?’ Luke’s mum wanted to know.

    ‘I’ve bought something for you if you must know. It’s for your birthday,’ he lied, winking at Luke over her shoulder.

    ‘Oh, you shouldn’t have.’  She searched through her purse. ‘I can only spare a tenner,’ she said handing it over to him.  Luke assumed Damian must owe money to someone and a tenner probably wasn’t likely to make much difference to Damian, but his mum might have to skip lunch.

    Then addressing Luke, Beth said, ‘get to school on time and don’t go getting into trouble with Robbie,’ picking fluff off his shoulder. She touched his cheek and then dashed out, pulling the door closed behind her. So, no chance of having a quick word with her about Damian, he thought. Not that she’d listen anyway. 

    He went back to his bedroom to grab his school bag and Damian came up behind him, making him jump. He was forever slithering around the place.

     ‘Try and get a drop of the good stuff, as well,’ demanded Damian.

    ‘Mum will kill me if I get in trouble again.’

    ‘So don’t get caught. It’ll probably be easier if you go to one of the shops in the precinct at lunchtime when they’re busy,’ said Damian, stuffing his keys and a nearly empty fag packet in his leather jacket. That must be what passes for parental advice in his world, thought Luke, as he decided that the busiest time would definitely be the riskiest.

    He grabbed his schoolbag, picked up his keys and left the flat by the back exit. 

    As he headed to his friend Robbie’s home, he tried not to think what Damian would do if he didn’t get him some cigarettes. He hadn’t had much luck standing up to grown men. He decided he was less afraid of the shop assistant, so he devised a rough plan. As soon as Robbie answered the door, he asked him to go with him to the shopping precinct and create a bit of a diversion while he got hold of as many packets of cigs as possible. Robbie needed no further incentive to bunk off school so agreed on the condition that they would share whatever they got equally.  

    Heading towards the bus stop they passed a hairdressing salon; a kickboxing gym; and a Vape bar where Robbie had spent many hours loitering and contemplating his future lungs. Several girls at school were now regularly vaping, but there were fewer lads due to the impact on testosterone levels.

    They paid their fares and sat at the back of the bus, fidgeting slightly, full of nervous excitement and resentment. Luke was annoyed that he had caved into Damian’s demand for more cigs and was determined to mention it to his mum when Damian wasn’t around. As the bus pulled up near the precinct they went to the front and jumped off as soon as the doors opened. They headed for one of the smaller newsagents outside the main shopping centre, which from previous experience was the only one they knew of that didn’t have CCTV. The plan was that Robbie would go to the back of the shop and shake up a fizzy drink, then let it explode all over the newspapers and magazines. Whilst the shop assistant was trying to deal with the mess, Luke would reach over the counter and grab as many packets of cigarettes as possible for Damian and Robbie, then leave before she noticed him.

    Luke hovered near the front of the shop, looking at the bags of sweets. As soon as the young girl ran to the back, he checked around to make sure there was no one nearby. He was too fearful to go around the back of the till in case he got locked inside, so he had to literally throw himself over the desk and grab half a dozen long packs. Shoving them in his backpack and wiping the sweat out of his eyes, he scuttled out onto the pavement. 

    By the time the assistant had noticed that some of the shelves were empty and that lower down where the expensive stock was stacked, they would be long gone.

    Robbie had bustled out as quickly as possible and Luke shouted at him to run. But as Robbie was running down the road the assistant came out of the shop. Luke ran but Robbie, who was a regular twenty-cigs-a-day lad, was no match for her. She soon caught up with him and grabbed his hood. Luke heard Robbie arguing that he hadn’t taken anything, but she used some kind of walkie-talkie to contact security staff in the area. 

    Luke hesitated and the shop assistant shouted at someone to stop him. A man wearing a Man City top tried to grab him, but he managed to dodge him. In the confusion, he ran headlong into a pram holding a small child and knocked the whole thing over. The kid must have banged her head quite badly as she started bawling. 

    Luke was terrified. He couldn’t afford to be in trouble with the police again; his mum would kill him. Robbie was urging him to run away. He turned and ran back to the bus station. He hopped on the first bus back to his flat in Ardwick and sat at the back dividing up the spoils. He placed Robbie’s half in a carrier bag which he pushed to the back of the shoe box and kept the remainder in another one hoping it would be enough to keep Damian quiet for a while. He hadn’t managed to get hold of any whisky because the newsagents didn’t sell alcohol, but he hoped a big bundle of cigs would be enough to keep him happy. As the bus stopped, he checked around for members of the ABA, and as the coast was clear he made his way to his flat.

    Soon after he arrived home Robbie texted to let him know that the police had let him go with a reprimand, as he didn’t have any stolen property on him. He hadn’t given the police Luke’s name but as they had been caught together in the past it would probably only be a matter of time before they identified him, probably from CCTV in the bus station. 

    He slumped down on the end of his bed, feeling frustrated. They’d been so close to getting away with it. He flicked on his Xbox and loaded Call of Duty, but his mind kept wandering back to the newsagents. He was finding it difficult to concentrate although his favourite game usually kept him occupied for hours. 

    He was almost relieved hours later when he heard Damian slam the front door, and the familiar sound of him hanging his leather coat up in the hallway. As Luke grabbed the bag of cigs and was about to leave his bedroom, he heard someone ring the doorbell. Damian answered the door in his usual vile humour. ‘What do you want?’ he demanded.

    ‘I’d like Luke to come down to the station and answer some questions, please,’ PC Jenkins said. Luke’s heart sank as he recognised PC Jenkins’ voice.

    ‘What about?’

    ‘I believe he was involved in an incident at Mason’s Newsagents earlier today with Robert Sumner-Smith.’ 

    ‘Robbie Sumner-Shit is a lying scumbag; he’s always trying to get Luke in trouble.’ Luke knew that Damian wouldn’t say this out of loyalty and that it would just be a tactic to stall the police officer long enough for Luke to get rid of any evidence. He didn’t like Luke, but he liked the police even less.

    ‘I have reason to believe that Luke was shoplifting, and I would like to search these premises.’

    ‘There won’t be any stolen goods here. Go round to Robbie’s place and search there,’ said Damian.

    ‘We’ve already searched Robbie and he didn’t have anything on him. And since we have sufficient reason to believe that Luke has something, we have come armed with a warrant,’ said PC Jenkins as he pushed past him. ‘Don’t worry I know which is Luke’s room.’

     Luke quickly sat on the end of his bed with his back to the door, pretending to listen to music on his phone. The police officer pulled one of his earphones out and shouted, ‘I have reason to believe that you were shoplifting earlier today. I wish to search these premises. I will officially caution you, a process you’re already familiar with, then take you down to the station for questioning.’

    Luke tried to act nonchalant as his bedroom was systematically searched.   

    ‘Right, there’s obviously nothing here, so you can sod off,’ said Damian.

    ‘Always so pleasant, aren’t you, Damian? That session at charm school has really paid off.’ Said PC Jenkins.

    Upon hearing the conversation at the front door, Luke had quickly opened his window and thrown the cigarettes out. This is where the other police officer noticed them raining down from the third floor and had collected them in an evidence bag. He had run up the stairs to the flat and held up the bag to display the contents.

     ‘My colleague has found these packets of cigarettes outside which match the description of the stuff stolen from Mason’s.’

    ‘Where did you find those?’ Damian demanded.

    ‘They were on the floor outside, and I’m guessing it’s underneath Luke’s window,’ he replied.

    ‘They’re not mine,’ said Luke.

    ‘Well, they won’t have your fingerprints all over them, will they?’ Asked the PC who appeared to be genuinely disappointed with Luke.

    The police officer read him his rights and took him, and Damian, down to the police station. Luke had already given his fingerprints in a previous incident, so they didn’t have to go through that procedure again.

    ‘The cigarettes will be tested, and if they are found to have your fingerprints on them, you’ll be charged under the Theft Act 1968 with shoplifting and assault occasioning actual bodily harm. We will contact you when we get the results back.’