Free Born Under Punches by Martyn Waites Page B

had discovered she was pregnant, her mother wanted nothing more to do with her. Her name was not even to be mentioned in the house. Alone and unsupported, she had gone to the council and found herself housed with amazing speed. Once in her new flat, she found out why. Wyn Davies House was a concrete-plated high-rise. The block was damp and mouldering, the lift stank of piss, the stairs of shit, the walkways crunched with underfoot hypodermics. It was no place for a seventeen-year-old, with or without a baby. Tanya was on the sixth floor. At first she hated it deeply. After a while she accepted it. Now she didn’t even notice. Sometimes she even contributed.
    Tanya was sitting on the second-hand settee watching Coronation Street , Carly asleep in her cot, when there was a knock at the door. She jumped up, eager to answer it. She knew who it would be. She had been waiting for him.
    She opened the door. There stood her little brother Davva and his weird mate Skegs. She tried not to let her disappointment show.
    â€˜What the fuck d’yays want?’
    â€˜Howay, Tanya, let wuh in, man.’
    She sighed, took her hand off the door and walked back to the sitting room. Davva and Skegs walked in, Skegs closing the door after him. She flopped back on to the settee, trying to look interested as Ken and Deirdre went tiredly around the houses again. Davva and Skegs stood.
    â€˜Have yuh got owt to eat?’
    â€˜There’s a chip shop down the bottom. Gan there.’ Tanya tried not to smile at her own wit.
    â€˜Howay, man, Tanya, we’re starvin’.’
    Tanya turned to look at the two boys, their vacant, blurred expressions. ‘Are yous two on somethin’?’
    â€˜Aye, we’re pissed,’ said Skegs with his irritating giggle.
    â€˜Aye,’ said Davva, puffing himself up, ‘we raided the Paki shop. Gorrway wi’ loads, didn’ wuh?’
    Skegs nodded. Davva reached into his pocket, pulled out twenty Silk Cut, tossed them on the settee. ‘Got you these.’
    Tanya looked at the cigarettes and smiled. ‘You’re not a bad lad, are you, Davva?’
    â€˜So, can we have somethin’ to eat now?’ Davva asked.
    â€˜There’s some beans in the kitchen. Help yerself.’ Tanya ripped the cellophane from the cigarettes, opened them, lit up. Suddenly, there came another knock at the door, different from the last one, sharp, businesslike. Tanya jumped up to answer. This was the one.
    She opened the door and there he stood. Tall, good-looking, clothes all street and rightly labelled, flashes of gold, wearing arrogance as aftershave.
    â€˜Hello, Karl,’ Tanya said. ‘Come in.’
    Karl had already swept past her. He walked into the room, stopped dead when he saw the two wasted boys standing there, spooning cold beans out of a tin.
    â€˜Who’s this?’ he asked.
    â€˜Me brother and his mate. Don’t worry about them.’ She started to walk towards the bedroom. ‘Come on in here. It’s private.’ Karl followed her in. The bedroom smelled of mildew, sweat, dirt and guilty, unsatisfying sex. In the corner the baby, Carly, slept in her cot. Tanya walked over to the dressing table, opened a drawer, took out a roll of notes and counted them out. She handed them to Karl. He checked and pocketed them.
    Karl sat on the edge of the bed, looking at his watch. ‘Come on, I’m in a hurry.’
    She took a last, long draw on the cigarette, stubbed it out in an ashtray on the dresser. She sat next to him, unzipped his trousers, reached inside and began squeezing his cock to erection. Once it was at a workable size, she dropped to her knees in front of him, placed it between her lips and began to pump it into her mouth.
    It wasn’t long before he came, Tanya holding on, pulling the last drops from him, fighting the bile rising in her throat, swallowing down hard. She looked up at him, smiled. He returned the smile, his own