Free A Kind of Hush by Richard A. Johnson Page A

on a stool at the bar. He hadn't changed much I thought. The same greasy, stringy hair, the same nicotine-stained stubble. He was a bit greyer than I remembered and had a new pair of glasses perched on his beak like nose. But there was no mistaking him, he was still the same five feet, four inch piece of skinny shit that I had run away from all that time ago. I nodded to Mick and pointed him out.
    'It's amazing innit,' said Mick. 'Look at the size of that bloke, if anything, a stiff wind would blow him over, but he ruled the fucking lot of you didn't he? You have to wonder how they do it, don't you?'
    I nodded, I was feeling really scared.
    'Right, watch this, lads,' said Mick, then he got up and went into the Gents.
    Two minutes later, he came out and walked over to the bar. He stood next to my old man and ordered a pint of lager. He then nudged the old man's elbow as he was about to take a drink from his glass and made him spill it down himself.
    'Shit! I'm sorry,' said Mick. 'Here, let me buy you another one.'
    'No harm done,' said my old man, 'mine's a bitter.'
    Mick ordered it and started a conversation with him. They were talking for a long time.
    A few pints later the old man went to the Gents. Mick motioned to us and we all left. We piled back into the van  and went back to Mick's. He said nothing at all until we got there.
    Mick smiled and said, 'Stu, your old man is a prat. Everything we need to know about him he told me tonight. It's gonna be a piece of piss lifting him.'
    'What'd he say then?' I asked.
    'Right,' he said. 'One, he leaves the kid on her own every night when he goes to the pub, the neighbour just listens out for her. Two, he normally gets legless before he staggers home. Three, he's taking his beloved granddaughter back home to her mother in Brighton this weekend. He said that he will miss the little cherub.'
    'But. . .' I said.
    'Yes, I know,' said Mick. 'If Mum's in hospital, where's he taking the kid and what's going to happen to her?'
    'We are going to have to move fast,' I said.
    'Right,' said Mick. 'We lift the bastard on Friday. Now then, where do we take him?'
    'Shanks,' said Wiwa.
    'What?' asked Mick.
    'Shanks. It's a factory just off Hackney Marshes. It was shut down about two months ago, my old lady used to work there. It's quiet and safe.'
    'Nice one, Wiwa,' said Mick, 'Friday then guys.' Everyone nodded.
    Wiwa thought that we ought to celebrate, so he conned Tony and me into going with him to get some booze and takeaways. We took the van and drove to Dalston to the Pie and Mash shop, best in the country I tell you. With enough pies, mash and liquor to fill three carrier bags we got back to the van and drove to an off-licence. One bottle of rum, one of whisky, a case of  Carlsberg Special, four litres of Coke and we're set for a good night.
    We got back to the van and were just about to climb in when we noticed a rumble going on over the road. Four skinheads were laying into a little Asian kid.
    'Oi!' yelled Wivva, 'leave him alone, you wankers.'
    One of them threw a bottle at us and we ducked as it smashed on the side of the van.
    'Right, you've fucking asked for it now!' yelled Wivva as he grabbed the wheel-wrench from the van and charged across the road into the middle of them scattering them like skittles. Tony and me ran over to join him. We tore into them kicking, punching, spitting and scratching, they didn't know what had hit them. We kept on until all four of them had run away so fast that you couldn't see their arses for dust.
    The little kid just vanished as we stood and shouted abuse at the big brave skins hobbling and staggering out of sight. We turned back to the van to see the kid come out from behind it and run as fast as his little legs could carry him down the road.
    'Poor little fucker,' said Wivva as he climbed into the van. 'He must have been terrified, look at him go.'
    'Oh he's terrified all right, Wiv,' said Tony, looking in the box behind the passenger seat,