Boot Boys by Richard Allen

Author:Richard Allen [Allen, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Microsoft
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

In every organisation there is a hard-core supporting the most militant of the elected committee. In ‘The Crackers’ there were exactly seven hard-core enthusiasts backing Tom all the way. Of these, Lenny Odlick could be counted out. He loved to express his loyalty to Tom but, once the pressure became unbearable, there was as much sense in believing Lenny to be hard as thinking that water was liquid steel.

On reflection, Tom reached the conclusion that he had been fooled by ‘The Crackers’. The trip to Exeter, for instance, had been a hard-core journey into the unknown. Some of the best-remembered Highbury hi-jinks had been conducted by the self-same group. And, too, the support for his vandalistic policies had been rushed through by vocalisations from his ‘faithful seven.’

Now, as he stood before the assembled ‘Cracker’ membership, he had cause to separate the hards from the softs. Benjy, it had been established, counted four heads bashed at the game. Four definite, verified heads! One more than Tom. But, cagey as usual, Tom did not specify his total. He turned to Gerry, asked: ‘How many?’

Sheepishly, Gerry grunted: ‘I dunno - when that geezer pushed me aside I got to hell outta there! I know him - he’s a bouncer for the Mecca!’

Tom felt ten-foot tall. Gerry had fled. Nobody had counted his heads. He stuck his chest out, gave his verdict: ‘I win! I got six ... ’

‘Shit on you!’ Benjy exploded. ‘I’ve got a witness …’

‘And I had one!’

‘That doesn’t say you ...’

‘I’m saying I got six of the bastards. Are you calling me a liar?’

‘Bloody right!’ Benjy got to his feet, pulled a hipflask from his pocket and belted back a few gurgles.

‘Christ, he needs comfort,’ Tom sheered.

‘If the leader wasn’t so cheap with the booze we’d none of us need our own supplies.’

‘Do I use funds?’ Tom asked softly.

‘Naw - but you’re miserly with hand-outs,’ Benjy replied.

‘I’m miserly? I’m miserly! Listen, fellas - this no-good bastard has twice the spare cash I’m given and he wouldn’t even spend a few bob on a French-letter.’

The hard-core cheered, blew raspberries at Benjy.

The membership sat silent, watching their skilled antagonists wear each other thin.

‘I don’t need those,’ Benjy chided. ‘I’ve been sterilised!’

Tom glared. ‘You’ve been what?’

‘Sterilised!’

‘At your age?’ He was shocked.

‘I’ve had two kids by different girls.’

‘You’re a randy bastard!’

‘Aren’t you?’

‘I’ve never put a bun in the oven,’ Tom declared.

‘Pity - that makes you a no-good fucker!’

‘I’m better than you ... ’

Vanessa jumped to her feet, eyes shimmering. ‘I can make a suggestion,’ she shouted.

Tom glared, Benjy sighed.

‘We’ve got a say in “The Crackers”,’ Vanessa said, tapping her chest to make sure the guys understood she meant the female membership. ‘We don’t care how strong or nasty you are. We want screwing - lots of lovely screwing. If the leader can satisfy us that’s the one we vote for ...’

Tom grinned. ‘Thanks, Vanessa. Benjy - are you willing to prove yourself as a man?’

‘When?’

Tom couldn’t figure what difference the time meant but he said: ‘Whenever you say.

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