Definitely Dead by Kate Bendelow (howl and other poems TXT) 📕

and explained in as much detail as it was possible using words of few syllables, what Donnelly expected him to do to ensure his release. Lurch hadn’t laid a finger on him, hadn’t even threatened him. His reputation and the almost sinister way he had politely asked, was enough to make Ryan’s sphincter twitch with fear. When Lurch told you to do something you did it. No questions asked.

Now, though, he wondered if that meant he was in the clear or whether he was at risk of being surplus to requirements. He’d not left his flat since he’d returned from the police station. Instead, he’d locked himself in with a large supply of weed and booze and was busily smoking and drinking himself into oblivion. It had been the first time he had smoked or drank since leaving prison. His last sentence had terrified him, and he was determined never to get sent down again. Part of his turning over a new leaf included eating clean and getting in shape. He had started running and even bought a fitness tracker so he could monitor his activity.

Now he was annoyed with himself for giving in to temptation and turning to weed and booze, but he needed something to ease his peace of mind so he could think clearly. He was agonising about whether he was safe to stay near his family and carry on with life as normal, or whether he should cut his losses, up sticks and move. But would his family be safe if Donnelly and Nowak were on the warpath?

Maybe it would be better all round if he moved away where they would never find him. He’d always fancied Wales. He’d been on holiday once as a kid and it had been one of the most memorable times of his life. They’d gone to Llandudno and he and his sister had spent days either exploring the beach or the Great Orme. He had happy memories of being sat cross-legged watching the Punch and Judy show, wielding fluffy, pink candyfloss as big as his head, on spindly wooden sticks.

Maybe he could move there. It would be nice to go running by the sea and he could even go swimming. He could imagine falling asleep at night, exhausted from the sea air, listening to the cacophony of seagulls. Then, in a couple of years, when the heat died down, he could get back in touch with his mum and sister and invite them over for a little holiday. His mum would like that.

Yeah, that’s what he’d do. He’d throw some stuff in a bag and go. He stubbed his joint out in the overflowing ashtray and bounded from the table with a new-found enthusiasm. He was pleased with his decision. He was just emptying the contents of his wash basket into a holdall when he heard a knock at the door.

If it was his mam, maybe he could persuade her to do some ironing for him. It’d be good to see her before he left. He just hoped she wouldn’t start crying, he couldn’t cope with that.

He opened the door and baulked at the sight of Lurch filling the door frame. He had a huge grin on his asinine face. An excitable pool of drool brimmed in the corner of his mouth. Tears pricked Ryan’s eyes at the sudden realisation he should have ran days ago. It was too late.

Lurch pushed him back gently into the flat with just one finger against his chest. He had a rucksack slung over his shoulder and without saying anything, opened the neck of the bag to show Ryan the contents. There was a pair of overalls, gloves, bed sheet and a hammer.

Lurch held his finger to his lips to indicate silence as he pushed him further back into the flat. Slowly and carefully, he clicked the front door behind them. Ryan thought of his mum and his sister and Wales, as a stream of hot piss trickled down his leg.

27

Nowak was already seated at a table in the visiting room when Donnelly arrived for the afternoon visit. He was dressed in black tracksuit bottoms, grey T-shirt and prison-issue red bib. His casual attire was in sharp contrast to Donnelly, who turned heads in his designer suit and crisp white shirt, casually unbuttoned at the collar. With huge beaming grins, the two men greeted each other with their customary thumb-grab which, for them, passed as a handshake.

‘It’s so fuckin’ good to see you, man, how’s it going?’ Nowak couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

‘We’re getting there, my friend. I’m just tying up a few loose ends. You know how I like to dot my i’s and cross my t’s,’ said Donnelly with a Machiavellian grin.

‘Who have you got taking the rap for the raid at The Farmhouse then?’ Nowak laughed nastily.

‘That little prick, Ryan Johnson. Let’s call it payback. I knew his prints would be on the bag from last time he minded that gun for us. It was one of the reasons I gave it to him. It always pays to have a bit of forensic insurance.’ Donnelly tapped the side of his nose with his forefinger. ‘Anyway, I sent Lurch round to give him a little wake-up call. You know how persuasive that dumb fucker can be.’

The two men laughed; Nowak leaned across the table to fist-bump Donnelly.

‘So, Johnson’s currently sat on a bunk in Strangeways that’s probably still warm from your arse?’

‘Nah, he should be dead by now,’ Donnelly said bluntly.

‘What?’ Nowak leaned across the table again, shoulders hunched, his neck craning towards Donnelly. ‘Please tell me you’re fucking joking.’ His tone was flat, and he was frowning, eyes narrowed as he glared at Aiden.

‘No, I’m not joking. Waste disposal innit? What’s up with you?’

‘What’s up with me, Aiden, is that right now I need to shovel as much shit off my back as I can, and your way of dealing with things is to cause even more bother?’

Nowak