Free A Kind of Hush by Richard A. Johnson

fucking protected kids!' I screamed as I ran past and into the park. I stopped at a pile of rubbish bins and kicked fuck out of them screaming, 'Bastard! Bastard! Fucking lousy stinking bastard!' at the top of my voice. I had to get that parasite out of my system, out of  our lives. I fell to my knees and blubbed. The people watching must have thought that I had escaped from a nuthouse or something.
    I put the phone down after checking with Beryl that everything was okay. I left the phone-box by Archway Station and jumped on a bus to Highbury. There I changed for a bus to Hackney.
    I got to Mick's place at about two and pushed open the door. Waiting for me inside was Mick, Wiwa, Pete, Den and Alan. Tony was on his way with Si. Mick had already updated everyone and they were all keen to help.
    None of us underestimated the problems this time. Not only did we have to get even with my old man, we had to get Cheri to safety and protect Jen and Ali from Gus and his goons. This one was going to keep us all very busy.
    When the others had arrived we got down to making plans.
    'We all ought to see the old bastard first,' said Mick. 'Just so as we know what we are dealing with.' Everyone agreed.
    That's no problem,' I said. 'At nine o'clock tonight he'll be in his local, just like every other night.'
    'Right,' said Mick. 'That's where we'll be going then.'
    'What do we do about the others?' asked Wiwa. 'How are we going to find them? Do we just sit up at Stu's place and wait?'
    'No,' said Mick. 'This time we've got to be clever, very clever.'
    'How do you mean?' I asked.
    'We are going to have to kidnap the slag,' said Mick. 'And then we are going to get him to tell us everything that we need to know. After we've got everything that we  want from him, we are going to have to make fucking sure that he never bothers anyone ever again.' Mick sat back and looked intently at everyone's face. Then he added, 'And you all know what that means don't you?' Everyone was quiet.
    'You saying that we've got to top this geezer?' asked Pete.
    'Maybe,' answered Mick.
    'That's a bit heavy innit?' said Den.
    'I know, but there may be no other way,' said Mick.
    'There's gotta be,' I said. 'We can't just kill him . . . can we?'
    'Well, we could always cut off his feet and hands, cut out his tongue and blind him,' said Mick sarcastically. Then he added seriously, 'We may not have the choice Stu. We can't have him telling anyone, showing anyone, or writing it down, can we?'
    'S'pose not,' I said, 'but I've got nothing to lose, I can't ask you guys to do this.'
    'Who's asking?' said Mick. Then turning to the rest he said, 'How many of you are in?'
    They all punched the air.
     

  Chapter Eleven

     
     
     
    We arrived at his local, just down the road from the YMCA at Crouch End, at about eight o’clock that night. We managed to get a booth to ourselves. They plonked me in the corner, got in some drinks and sat themselves down in such a way that I was completely covered. All I had to do now was point him out when he came in.
    Wiwa tried to cheer us all up by cracking some of his stupid jokes. Didn’t work though. He then surprised us all by asking us what we thought about the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait. We all sat open-mouthed.
    ‘What!’ he said. ‘What’s up with you lot?’
    ‘You read the papers,’ said Mick.
    ‘Course I do,’ said Wiwa with a pained expression. ‘And what’s more, I’m gonna join up.’
    ‘Join the Army?’ I asked, my face wide with amazement.
    ‘Too right,’ said Wiwa. ‘There’s gonna be a battle and if there’s gonna be a battle I want to be there.’
    ‘What if they send you to Ireland?’ asked Mick.

    ‘No chance, I won’t go,’ said Wiwa. ‘I’ll tell them to stuff it.’

    Good old Wivva I thought, he'll never change. Mick emptied a packet of crisps over Wivva's head as the rest of us creased up.
    'Hold it down, lads,' said the landlord.
    'Sorry, chief,' said Mick.
    He came in at nine-fifteen and sat