The Cleaner (2013) by Mark Dawson

Author:Mark Dawson [Dawson, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thriller
ISBN: 9781492354253
Publisher: Black Dog Publishing
Published: 2013-06-01T12:00:00+00:00

27

The nightmare was as bad as Milton could remember it. When he awoke, the sheets were a bunched-up pile on the floor, soaked through with sweat. His brain was fogged and unclear. He rose and went for his usual run, the best thing he knew to chase it away. The streets were quiet and the park was empty. He ran two laps, following the line of trees, pushing himself harder on the second so that by the time he returned to the road he was sweating and breathing heavily. He chose a return route that took him past the boxing club. The door was open, the slapping of a skipping rope audible from inside. He didn’t stop, and returned to the house where he showered and dressed. He stood before the mirror again and checked that the outline of his pistol was not obvious against the cut of his jacket. He locked the door and went to the café for his breakfast. Elijah was already waiting for him. The boy was sitting in a booth.

“This better be good,” he said, a little surly.

“Get any sleep?”

“Nah, not much. I’m knackered.”

“Where’s your kit?”

Elijah nodded at the black Nike sports bag resting on the chair next to him.

“Good lad. You hungry?”

“A bit,” he conceded.

“Alright, then. You’ll need to eat. You’re going to be working hard this morning.”

“What are we doing?”

“You’ll see,” Milton said. The proprietor came over to take their order. Milton ordered two plates of scrambled eggs and bacon, a portion of chips and a two glasses of orange juice.

“Is your mother alright?”

“What you mean — about me getting nicked? Yeah, she’s alright.”

“She worries about you, you know.”

“I know,” Elijah said. “I don’t mean to upset her.”

“I know you don’t.” The boy seemed more disposed to speak this morning, and Milton decided to take advantage of the boy’s mood. “How are things at home?”

“How you mean?”

“How does your mum manage?”

“What you think it’s like? We got no Dad, Mum works three jobs and there’s still hardly enough money coming in to feed us, buy clothes. Me and my brother — you get into a situation like that and you do what you got to do, innit? My mum knows what I’ve been doing — she just don’t wanna ask.”

“Would you have listened to her?”

The food arrived before he could answer. The proprietor handed them each a plate of eggs and bacon and left the chips in the middle of the table. “You know about Jules?” Elijah said when he had left them. “My brother?”

“Not really.”

“He’s five years older than me. Me and him, we grew up with nothing. You go to school and you’re the ones with the uniform with the holes in it. I never got no new shirts or trousers or nothing like that — all I got was his hand-me-downs, mum would find the holes and just keep patching them up. There were patches on the patches eventually. You know how that makes you feel?”

Again, Milton shook his head.

“Makes you feel like a tramp, bruv.

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