This is my regular reminder that newsletter subscribers get access to KEMBERTON – a brand new novel that I’m serialising as I write it. The first 6 chapters are now available, with the next 3 being added later this week.
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To whet your appetite, here’s a brief blurb for the book, and the first chapter. I hope you enjoy it.
Kemberton is a lovely lad, but he’s misunderstood. He’s nine years old, and those nine years haven’t been easy. He’s had to deal with more than his fair share of grief, and it has taken its toll. Life moves on, but Kemberton’s struggling to keep up. The gulf between him and everyone else is widening. He’s in danger of falling through the gap.
Aiden – Kemberton’s step-dad – is playing with fire. He’s involved in things he really has no business messing with. It’ll all probably work out fine, but if things do go wrong, they’re going to really go wrong. Aiden can’t afford for there to be any complications, and Kemberton’s unpredictability is proving to be a concern.
The connections in this family are being stretched to breaking point, and it’s only a matter of time before someone does something really stupid. Who will it be? What will be the cost? And how far will they have to go to put things right again?
Weoley Castle is a small suburb tucked away five miles or so south-west of Birmingham city centre. At its heart is a shopping centre known as Weoley Castle Square. It isn’t even square. It’s a large, oblong-shaped patch of grass, crisscrossed with footpaths and lined on three sides by rows of shops. The shops have changed, but it’s largely looked like this for years. These days, there are more charity shops and fast-food outlets than there used to be. They’ve replaced the banks and hardware stores.
On one of the narrow edges of the Square is a short run of shops that were built much later than rest. It’s glaringly out of step with everything else, terraced units cast from brutal concrete, dating from the late sixties or early seventies. They were designed with good intentions when architects looked through rose-tinted spectacles at a post-war, utopian future, no idea of how their choices might affect the character and development of a place. They were built with flats above the retail space, with an overhanging concrete lip separating them. The lip provided extra living space for the people upstairs as well as protection for the street level frontages. But what might originally have appeared to be good places to shelter from the rain or catch up with friends, have since become dank, dingy spots with too many shadows. These days people are more inclined to speed up when they get there, rather than slow down.
The third shop from the right as you look at the row is a charity shop. The covered area outside has become a dumping ground for donations. The abandoned bags and boxes regularly pile up, with fly-tippers sometimes adding to the mix. You can occasionally find Eddie Phelps down among the bags and boxes, rifling through other people’s cast offs. Eddie lives above the shop with his partner Sarah and their four-year-old son Kemberton. They don’t have a lot. No, scratch that, they don’t have anything. Eddie and Sarah clothe their family from donations, and sometimes Eddie finds decent toys for Kemberton too. If anything, their situation is about to become more difficult, because Sarah’s pregnant and the baby is due in a month and a half. They can’t afford another mouth to feed, but Eddie says everything will be okay. It’ll all work out. Trouble is, they both know those are just empty words. Eddie does look for work, but he can’t drive and can’t afford bus fare, so he can only work in and around Weoley Castle, and the problem with that is everyone around here knows Eddie Phelps’s reputation. He’s already used up all his chances.
Eddie is focused on his family. The rest of the world just passes him by.
It’s late and dark, but it’s the height of summer and the heat is stifling. Kemberton’s happy, because they’ve let him stay up late. He’s playing with his toy cars on the terrace outside the living room of the flat. He loves it out here. He pretends he lives in a castle and spends hours watching the world go by below from behind the first-floor railings. There’s always something happening here, always someone to watch. Sometimes people spot him looking at them. They wave, and he waves back. Sometimes he races his cars up and down the terrace, usually outracing the cars on the real road below. Usually, because there are a lot of kids around here who drive like maniacs, using the road around the Square’s oblong perimeter like it’s a racetrack.
All in all, Kemberton is a happy kid. Very little bothers him. He feels safe and secure at home, and he doesn’t ever feel like he goes without, because this is all he knows.
Unusual name, Kemberton, isn’t it? Eddie’s mum Joan lives a few streets away in the council house where Eddie grew up. There’s another road nearby called Kemberton Road, and Eddie always said he’d use the name if he ever became a dad. He’s always liked the sound of it and, besides, he didn’t want any kid of his having one of those names where there’d always be two or three other children with the same name in his class. There were two Edwards in Eddie’s class at Princethorpe Junior, and he knew of seven across all the year groups when he moved up to Shenley Academy. He’s confident there will only ever be one Kemberton in the boy’s class.
Sarah is struggling tonight. She’s lying on the sofa with the window open, trying – and failing – to stay cool and get comfortable. Eddie sits on the armchair and ties his laces. ‘Where you going?’ she asks.
‘I already told you, Mum’s got a problem with her sink. I said I’d sort it for her.’
‘Oh, yeah.’
‘I’ll only be half an hour. I’ll bring you back something nice.’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know. What do you want?’
‘Chocolate ice cream,’ she answers, without hesitation. ‘I’ve been craving it all day.’
‘Yeah, you’ve only mentioned it like a million times.’
He gets up and gives her a kiss.
‘Love you,’ she says.
‘Love you too. See you in a bit, Kem.’
Kemberton looks up, waves his dad off, then gets back to his cars.
It barely takes any time at all to sort the problem. Eddie’s fixed Joan’s sink so many times he could do it with his eyes closed. He’s always patching it up, waiting on the council to get their finger out and get the pipework replaced. He’d pay for the parts and do it himself, but he can’t afford to. Joan would pay, but money’s tight these days and what with keeping on top of the regular bills, there never seems to be enough left, and there are always more pressing needs.
Still, she’s very grateful to have such an attentive son, and though she doesn’t have any chocolate ice cream in her freezer, she sends him off with a couple of quid in his pocket to pick some up on his way home.
Kemberton spots his dad going into the mini mart. He stops playing and stands up to watch, holding onto the railings and pressing his face through the gap like he’s in prison or he’s one of the animals at the zoo. He knows Nanna Joan will have given Dad some money (she almost always does), and he knows that Dad will be buying something nice. It’s almost certainly chocolate ice cream, but that’s okay because it’s what Mum wants, and he loves it too.
It’s just a couple of minutes later when Dad reappears.
He stands in the doorway, illuminated by a puddle of light from behind. Mum said the weather was going to break this evening, but Kemberton didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. How can the weather break? It’s raining quite heavily now, but Dad will be okay. It’s just a quick walk across the grass and he’ll be home. He knows that Kemberton is watching, and he plays up to him, pretending to scan the horizon, looking all the way from right to left then back again, only stopping to focus his attention on the railings above the charity shop on the third or fourth swoop. He waves to Kemberton like a crazy man, like he hasn’t seen him in years, and Kemberton laughs like a drain. ‘I take it Daddy’s coming?’ Sarah says from the back of the flat.
‘Yeah, Daddy coming.’
Eddie’s showing off for his boy. He’s carrying a plastic bag, and there’s no mistaking the shape of a tub of ice cream at the bottom. Eddie zigzags across the grass, walking double the distance he needs to, pretending he’s lost, then pretending he’s crying, then pretending he’s exhausted and dragging his feet. All of it’s for the benefit of his one-man audience.
But that’s when the fun stops.
The good thing about cutting across the grass is it’s (usually) a direct route. The downside is Eddie’s left himself exposed.
Kemberton knows his mum and dad worry sometimes about how rough Weoley Castle can be at night, and though it’s not that late, it’s dark and it’s wet and there’s hardly anyone else around out there. The three blokes that jump Eddie are hidden in shadow, waiting among the trees, all but invisible until they started to move. Eddie keeps his head down, doesn’t engage, but it’s not like he has any choice. Two of them block his way forward, the third comes around the back. When there’s trouble on the Square, these three are usually involved. He keeps his head down and tries to go around them, but it’s not going to work because this isn’t some random encounter. They saw him leave the flat earlier, and they’ve been looking out for him since. They have unfinished business.
Kemberton’s still watching through the railings. It’s okay. His dad’s funny. His dad gets on with everyone. Those boys probably just wanted to ask him something.
‘You been avoiding us, Eddie?’ one of them asks.
Fuck.
‘Why would I avoid you, Dalton?’
It’s no mystery why he’s been avoiding Dalton and his mates. It’s because he screwed them over. He’d agreed to help them shift some stuff that a friend of a friend had nicked, but he ended up having to go to the hospital with Sarah because she was getting baby pains and, to be honest, he forgot all about them.
He heard on the grapevine that it caused them a bit of bother. He heard that Malc had ended up in a cell overnight. But what was he supposed to do? Family comes first, right?
Kemberton watches from a distance as the conversation continues. His dad is trying to explain what happened to the others, but they’re not buying it. From a distance, it looks like they’re arguing over the ice cream. One of them rips the plastic bag from Eddie’s hands and Kemberton’s heart sinks because he really wants ice cream tonight.
Now he can hear them shouting. He can’t hear what they’re saying, but they’re yelling at Dad and Dad’s yelling back. One man shoves Dad in the chest, pushing him back into another.
Kemberton’s getting worried. He’s still up at the railings, gripping the bars tight, feeling anxious.
The situation down on the Square is serious. Far more serious than Kemberton realises. Eddie’s problem is he talks before he thinks. That was what got him mixed up in all this trouble in the first place, and it’s what’s going to be his ultimate undoing. Sarah heard from a friend that Dalton and his crew were looking for him, and he just brushed it off as nothing. Didn’t tell her that he owed them money. Didn’t tell her what they were planning. Didn’t tell her it was an armed job. Even now, when the full extent of his fuck-up has been made abundantly clear to him, he’s still trying to bullshit his way out of trouble, trying to tie these braindead fuckers up in knots with excuses and lies, and lies on top of those lies. It’s always worked before.
But not tonight.
He tries to make a run for it, because it’s not far and he knows if he can get to the alleyway around the back of the shops, he’ll be able to lose them in the shadows and get up to the flat. He’ll call Sarah and she’ll have the door open because it’s not the first time he’s been chased home and—
And it’s not happening.
One of the blokes senses that Eddie is about to make a break for it, and grabs him. Then, before Eddie realises what’s happening, Dalton punches him in the gut. Really fucking hard. Four times.
All the air is knocked out of Eddie’s lungs. He knows they know they’ve hurt him badly because of how quickly they disappear. Fucking cowards, come back and fight. They’re halfway across the square already, melting away into the wet darkness.
He drops to his knees, and it’s only then he realises that he’s bleeding. He holds his gut, blood slushing out between his fingers, flooding from the puncture wounds in his belly. He forces himself to get up again because if he doesn’t get back to the flat and get help, he’s a dead man.
He picks up the ice cream. Can’t leave it behind. Can’t let his family down. Then he turns around on heavy feet, less responsive than they should be, and starts walking home.
Shit. The boy’s watching.
He can see his son’s face looking down at him now, too much detail illuminated by the streetlamp outside the charity shop. Despite the pain and effort, Eddie does everything he can not to let his panic show. He waves with the hand he’s carrying the bag with. ‘Home soon,’ he wants to say but can’t. ‘Tell Mum I’m coming. Tell Mum to let me in.’
The ground changes under his feet, pavement now not grass, almost home. He stops, too much effort, too much pain, and he does that thing when he’s pretending to scan the horizon again, pretending he can’t find Kemberton. But this time he can’t find him. He can’t focus. He uses the brightness of the lamppost to try and orientate himself and pushes on, but he’s running out of gas.
Eddie trips down the kerb and falls into the road. He’s on his hands and knees on the dotted white line, blood pouring out of the gashes in his belly now he’s no longer holding them shut. He tries to keep crawling, keep moving, but there’s nothing left. There’s a flash of light and he thinks it’s the end, but it’s just a car coming around the corner at far too fast a speed for the conditions. It skids to a halt, the radiator grille stopping just millimetres from his head, and he tries to use the front of the car to pick himself up, but he doesn’t have the strength, and he collapses instead.
The driver rushes around to help him, but she already knows there’s nothing she can do. Eddie’s on his back, and the woman takes off her jacket and presses it against the wound, and she’s no medic but she already knows it’s not going to make any difference. With her free hand she dials 999 but however quickly help gets here, it’s going to be too late.
Sarah’s getting worried. She calls to Kemberton, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t react to her voice at all. With effort she gets up and waddles over to the terrace where he’s standing looking out. There’s something horrible happening in the road outside, and she tries to prise her son’s fingers away from the railings but he’s gripping the bars too tight, and he won’t let go. There’s been an accident right outside the flat. She doesn’t want him seeing this. There are flashing blue lights coming from the opposite end of the Square, and the last thing she wants is for her son to—
And then she sees what it is he’s seen.
She realises who it is who’s lying in the road, whose blood she can see pooling in the rain.
Sarah turns and races back through the flat. She clatters down the rickety metal steps outside and almost loses her footing as she weaves around the overflowing waste bins. She runs down the alleyway, one hand cradling her belly, the other feeling her way along the wet brickwork, pitch black. She crashes through the outside gate and keeps going, slowing only when she gets a sudden stabbing pain. It’s all she can do to keep moving. The woman who was driving the car manages to head her off. ‘Sorry, love,’ she says, ‘can you stay back please. You really don’t want to see this.’
And she’s right, Sarah doesn’t want to see it, but she has to. ‘That’s my Eddie,’ she says, and the woman lets her go.
Kemberton hasn’t moved.
He watches it all, barely even blinks.
He watches some of the people who were crowding around Daddy getting up and backing away. He watches Mummy. She collapses at his side and starts shaking his shoulder and screaming at him but he’s not moving.
Then he watches Mummy grab her tummy, and he hears her scream in pain. It’s a horrible noise. The worst thing he’s ever heard. He didn’t know his mum could make a noise like that.
There are more cars coming. More flashing lights.
And now the people who were helping Daddy are all crowding around Mummy and he keeps watching because he can’t look away.
The lady from the car looks up and waves at Kemberton. She smiles, but it’s not a happy smile. He’s never seen a smile look so sad before. It makes him want to cry, but he can’t.
Someone must have told Nanna Joan, because she’s in the flat with him now. The road outside is quiet again, all the people have gone, and the rain has washed all the blood away.
Nanna Joan keeps telling him it’s all going to be alright, but it won’t be. Kemberton knows this and he wants to tell her, but the words won’t come out.
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