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I’m a loser. Born a loser, raised a loser, and I’ll probably die a loser.
I just hope Casey goes before I do, so she’s not alone.
My phone bleeped with a text. For a second I thought maybe it was her,Sophie Harding.Of course it wasn’t.
“Nice lady saved you, Casey, didn’t she? She weren’t so bad for one of them.”
Casey licked my face, giving me salty kisses. My perfect girl, my loyal girl. My only girl.
Well, maybe not quite my only girl.
“You wanna go and see Vick, Case? Shall we go and see Vicki?” She jumped up at the name, pawing me to stand. Clever dog.
I got to my feet, stomach still rumbling, but it didn’t matter.
Casey was all that mattered.
***
The months hadn’t been kind to Vicki. Her red hair was flat with grease, blonde roots showing. She’d come out in blotches her make-up couldn’t hide, and she’d lost weight. She was nearly as scrawny as Case.
“You eaten?” she asked. “I could stick you a bit of pasta on. I got a few bits left.”
“I ate already,” I lied.
“It’s good to see you, Cal.” She pulled me into a hug, crushing me with bony arms. “What happened to your face?! That from the Scotts?”
I ignored her questions. “How’s Slater?”
“So so,” she shrugged. “He’s with me mam. You’ll see him in the morning, if you’re still here. He grows so bloody quick.”
“Two now?”
“Last month. Had a little party for him. Shame you weren’t around. He loves you, Cal.”
I smiled. “Love him too, little tyke.”
“Haven’t got a roll-up, have you? I’m gagging.”
I sat myself down on the step and she perched alongside me. I’d been here so many times, hanging in her poxy little back yard, amongst Slater’s scooters and charity shop cars. Case and me would bed down in her tiny little shed sometimes, when it got real cold. I handed her the roll-up.
Casey nudged her hand, looking for fuss. “How’d you get her back, then? Did you have to kick the door in?”
I shook my head. “Didn’t go up there.”
“How come?”
“Had some help.”
She frowned. “Not from the Gabb boys? They’ll want repaying big time.”
“No. A woman, estate manager. Pretty, like.”
“The blonde one?” she quizzed. “Posh old cow, with a bob haircut? She ain’t pretty, Cal!”
“She sure ain’t old.”
“She is!” Vicki smirked. “Way older than us.”
