Back Man Down
Chapters (60)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Other books by James Goodhand
  4. Dedication
  5. Four’s a Crowd
  6. That Friday Feeling
  7. Work
  8. Customer Service
  9. Starting Over
  10. Sweet Seventeen
  11. Burn, Baby, Burn
  12. A Turn
  13. Go-Between
  14. Joyride
  15. In
  16. Not a Date
  17. Taken Down
  18. Killing Time
  19. Reality
  20. The Long Wait
  21. The Other Side
  22. Dropping In
  23. In the Dark
  24. Blind Alley
  25. Showtime
  26. Straight Through
  27. What Develops
  28. Last Lesson
  29. House of Horrors
  30. Room with a View
  31. Party’s Over
  32. At Sea
  33. Fireworks
  34. The Turning of Tables
  35. Home Time
  36. Our Little Chats
  37. Out of the Blue?
  38. No Capes
  39. Holding On
  40. Salvage
  41. The End
  42. On a Promise
  43. Disco Inferno
  44. Lockdown
  45. Will Parks’ Big Moment
  46. The Calm
  47. Last Request
  48. The Storm
  49. All Change
  50. A Narrow Escape
  51. An Inconvenient Delay
  52. No More Fighting
  53. Level Crossing
  54. The Beginning
  55. Acknowledgements
  56. Resources
  57. Read more
  58. Read more
  59. 5.11 a.m.
  60. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

He’s about to start walking again when he sees his phone in the weeds, ejected from his pocket when he jumped. He picks it up and polishes it against his hoodie. The lock screen reveals eight missed calls and five texts. Every message and call is from the same person.

‘Not now, Parks,’ Alfie mumbles. But, again, there’s the almost-smile.

Their friendship has been a welcome distraction these past couple of months. Alfie has enjoyed how Will sees him, how he buys the act so completely. He smirks, thinking of the hour they wasted the other day debating whether a vegan is still a vegan if nobody knows. He feels a rare warmth recalling Will’s relish when he taught him how to sneak stuff through the supermarket self-checkout, to then deposit the goods in the food bank collection on the way out, like a game laid on for them. He thinks about Will’s laughter when he went up to the bar at Smugglers, returning with a pint of lager for Will and a schooner of sherry for himself. ‘Just fancied something sweet,’ he’d told a creased-up Will.

He looks down at his phone again. He doesn’t unlock it. What good would it do now? No friendly words are going to make any difference. For a mate to be any use now, there’d have to be just one or two problems to fix. Things would have to be solvable. Alfie’s so far past that now.

The light of the screen dims; Will’s name fades to black. ‘Only end up letting you down, cuz,’ Alfie says. ‘It’s what I do.’

He scrambles up the embankment, listening carefully for trains this time. He places the phone on one of the rails, ready for the next express. And he moves on. Not far now.

There’s a popularly held misconception about drug dealers: that they all make loads of money. Sure, somewhere up the hierarchy somebody’s getting rich. Maybe the guy who sells the gear to the guy who sells it to Alfie. Maybe the person above him. For Alfie, it was certainly no ticket out of Patten’s Island, just another hustle to keep his brothers and sisters in the comfort he’d not had. The margins were small but the company and the clientele made it fun.