No One Will Hear You Scream by E J Goldberg-Phillips

Author:E J Goldberg-Phillips
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
Published: 2021-10-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

Kirsty Gets it On

Alf Grisham. Even by the rock bottom moral standards of this criminally dysfunctional lot, Alf took some beating! He had been locked up in one of the recently vacated Grisham family bedrooms three days previously in a state of utter “out your head” oblivion, drugs of one nature or another. The Grisham Corporation by design didn’t deal in drugs, not through some high ethical principle, just that they were usually the domain of middle-class areas and users and their part of Orpington was distinctly working—and not working—class. God knew where he got the money for them, never mind who his supplier was. If Bob found out who that fucker was, it would be his last day breathing, let alone dealing.

The screaming and pleading had died down from the ear-splitting variety to low moans and despairing cries for water. His mother persuaded Bob to let her go and see him with bottled water and oh, what a sight! A grown man, dirty, smelly, bearded, red-eyed, clothes tattered, clearly in need of new trousers as his were soiled. A bucket had been left for him to defecate in but he hadn’t bothered using it. His mum spent an hour with him, gave him liquids but no solid food as he might choke on it. After that, the waif was escorted downstairs to use the loo. Mrs Grisham went to make him a cup of tea but when she came back, Alf and £120 that had been sitting on the kitchen table had both legged it. He was a lost cause.

Bob was doubly enraged. It wasn’t just about the money; he wanted Alf to tell him who the dealer was even if he had to beat it out of him. Brad might be of use after all. No doubt the man who could be laughingly called the Grisham black sheep would be found in the local pub toilet’s cubicle with the dealer, buying £120 worth of something.

‘That’s the last time, Mum. He doesn’t want or deserve help. He’s had it.’

Mrs G was tearful. ‘But he’s our own flesh and blood. He’s one of my babies.’ Bob thought he more properly resembled skin, rags and bones. He thought he’d better leave it as he would only make matters worse. His idea of getting the dealer done over had a major flaw, several actually, starting with if the offending dealer was found and “dealt with”, Alf would just find another one. Also, if the dealer was working for someone else, the whole thing could escalate. Bob decided to put it down to experience and get back to the business of extortion.

Kirsty Letts was walking up the High Street in Orpington when she noticed up a lane, something that vaguely resembled, in the widest sense of that description, a human being. It had legs and was lying near a couple of those big double-sized rubbish bins, sprawled over several full black bin bags. She recognised the person as Alf Grisham who she knew from some time in the past.

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