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It was gone midnight and there were drunks staggering about the streets, but Tommy wasn’t scared. After living with that perve, nothing and nobody would ever scare him again.

There was a lad already in the phone box and Tommy silently willed him to hurry up. PC Kendall was the only person he could think of turning to for help in this particular situation. He was too young to run away and was bound to meet other perverts like Ian if he was forced to live on the streets.

When the phone box became free, Tommy darted inside and with trembling hands dialled the number. ‘Can I speak to PC Kendall, please?’

‘PC Kendall isn’t on duty at the moment. Is there anything I can help you with?’ came the reply.

‘No. I only want to speak to PC Kendall. He’s my friend. It’s important. I think I might have killed someone.’

The officer on night duty could tell Tommy was a kid. Instinct told him this was no crank call though. ‘What is the number you’re calling from, lad? Have a look and read it out to me.’

‘Will PC Kendall call me back? I’m not telling anyone else what happened, only him.’

‘Yes. I will call him at home. What’s your full name?’

Tommy reeled off his name and number, put the phone down and it rang within a couple of minutes, the shrill tone making him jump. ‘Can you help me, please? Uncle Ian turned out to be a pervert and I think I might have killed him.’

PC Kendall was alarmed. ‘Where are you, Tommy?’

‘Along the Old Kent Road. I’m not sure exactly where, but there’s a club over the road playing Ska music with lots of black people going in and out.’

‘Where is your uncle?’

‘At his house. In my bedroom.’

‘What’s the address, Tommy? I need to call an ambulance. It’s for the best, trust me.’

Tommy reeled off the address.

‘Right, stay where you are and I’ll find you. Stay close to or inside the phone box. I’m on my way.’

A man turned up, wanting to make a call, so Tommy had to leave the phone box. He was huddled inside a shop doorway, clutching his duffel bag to his chest, when he spotted Ronnie Darling walking towards him. Ronnie had his dark hair slicked back, was dressed in a smart suit with a pretty woman on his arm. Tommy had to look twice to make sure it really was him.

‘Shit,’ Tommy mumbled, looking at his feet, but it was too late. Ronnie had already clocked him. ‘What’s happening, Tommy lad? What the hell you doing sat there this time of night?’

‘I’m waiting for someone.’

Highly suspicious, Ronnie crouched next to the lad. He looked frozen. ‘Who? Only it’s nearly one and that club over the road kicks out in a bit. Full of Samboes, that is. No way am I leaving you here, it ain’t safe. Come on. You’re coming home with me.’

Tommy shook his head while praying PC Kendall would hurry up. It seemed ages since they’d spoken. ‘No. I must stay here. I’m waiting for a friend.’

‘Danny?’

‘No. Not Danny. Look, I’m fine, honest. You go.’

‘I’m freezing, Ronnie. What we standing here for?’ asked the pretty blonde.

Ronnie glared at his current bit of fluff. ‘’Cause this kid is a close family friend and he’s out here on his own. Jump in a sherbet if you’re cold.’

Clocking a car crawling along the kerb, Tommy leapt up. Thankfully, it wasn’t a marked police car. It was a Volkswagen Beetle.

As Tommy ran towards the vehicle, Ronnie grabbed hold of his arm. ‘No you don’t, lad. Who is this pal of yours?’

PC Kendall stepped out of the car and flashed his badge. ‘I’m here to help, Tommy. He called me. He’s in trouble.’

Ronnie looked at Tommy in disbelief. He’d thought the lad was one of their own. Had he been planted by the Old Bill to befriend his brother? Was he some miniature grass? ‘You little shitbag,’ Ronnie mumbled.

Tears stinging his eyes, Tommy shoved Ronnie in the chest. He felt so upset Ronnie had turned against him. His heart told him to blurt out the truth to Ronnie. But how could he? Tommy didn’t feel like a little boy any more. No way did he want the Darlings finding out what his uncle had done to him. That was shameful. ‘It ain’t what you think. Tell Danny and your mum thanks for everything. I will never forget you all. You’re like family to me.’

When Tommy leapt in the car and it sped off, for the first time in his life, Ronnie Darling was speechless.

Instead of handing Tommy over to the authorities in South London, PC Kendall took him back to Barking police station and gently questioned him there. He had already heard that Ian Taylor had been alive when found, but was in a critical condition and it was touch and go whether he would survive. Apparently, he had lost a lot of blood and had the police not broken the door down when they did, to allow the ambulance men entry, Ian would have been dead within minutes.

‘Can you tell us what happened, Tommy?’ asked the blonde female officer. She smelled nice and was quite pretty, like his mum, but no way could Tommy open up to her. ‘Can I talk to Peter alone?’ Tommy asked. PC Kendall had insisted earlier he was to refer to him by his first name. He could tell the lad had experienced a torrid time and wanted him to feel comfortable enough to tell him. He could kind of guess what had happened and his heart went out to the lad. Tommy had always been a good kid.

‘Let me speak to Tommy alone,’ Kendall urged his colleague.

When DS Bright left the room, Kendall repeated the question.

‘Uncle Ian did something bad to me. Really bad.’

‘Tonight?’

‘No. A few weeks ago, but tonight he was going to do it again. I know he was. He came into my bedroom and Auntie Sandra was visiting her sister again. That’s when it happened the last time.’

Though it was only a few months since Kendall had last seen Tommy Boyle, his once bubbly nature had all but disappeared. The boy was still as polite as ever, but his once sparkling eyes were dull and lifeless – hardly surprising, in the circumstances. Kendall softly asked some more questions, then made a decision. ‘I need you to be brave, Tommy. I want a doctor to examine you. It might prove to be a bit embarrassing and uncomfortable. You OK with that?’

Tommy shrugged. ‘I suppose so. Will I get sent to a bad boy’s home, d’ya think? Ya know, like Hazel got sent away?’

Tommy hadn’t explained what had happened to him in explicit detail, but it was crystal clear to Kendall. ‘I’m still in pain when I do number twos and there’s blood on the toilet paper,’ Tommy admitted, staring at his hands in shame.

Kendall wanted to hug the boy but knew that, after what had happened to him, it might only upset him all the more. He leaned across the desk. ‘I promise you, I will do everything in my power to put that evil bastard away, Tommy. Not you. You were acting in self-defence.’

‘I hope he dies,’ Tommy said bluntly.

‘I don’t, boy, for your sake. Better if he lives, then gets his just deserts in prison. But that’s between me and you, OK?’

For the first time since PC Kendall had picked him up, Tommy managed a smile. ‘Yeah. I’d like him to be beaten up badly. Thanks for helping me, Peter. I didn’t know who else to call.’

The next twenty-four hours passed in a blur for Tommy. He was subjected to an examination, more interviewing and told his uncle was still alive.

He was then taken to stay with a woman called Maureen who had a clean home in Dagenham. She was kind to him. His bedding smelled fresh and the room was spotless.

It was on 17 March, his thirteenth birthday, that Tommy was told by a magistrate he would be sent to live at a children’s home in Dagenham.

PC Kendall, and Maureen whom he’d stayed with the past few nights, accompanied him. Tommy had been told to speak only when spoken to by the magistrate, but was full of questions when they left the hearing. ‘So, is this a bad boy’s home? Will I have to go back to school? Why can’t I live with the Darlings? Will my uncle be sent to prison?’

Urging Tommy to calm down, PC Kendall answered each question in turn. ‘The home you are going to is the one Maureen thought you would be most suited to. It’s not for children who have been in trouble and it’s mixed, boys and girls. One of Maureen’s friends runs it and Maureen had to pull a lot of strings to get you in there, so you mustn’t let her down, Tommy.’

‘I won’t. I remember my mum going to Dagenham once. I think she took my sisters with her too, but I ain’t never been there.’

‘At a guess, I’d say Dagenham’s only about four miles from where you used to live. Maureen thought it best you didn’t return to Barking because of the Fletchers and what happened with your mum and sister. You need a fresh start.’

‘But I ain’t scared of anyone now. My mate Danny taught me how to box. Why can’t I live with his mum? She wanted me to move in.’

‘I’m afraid that’s not possible, lovey. Danny’s father has been in too much trouble with the police,’ Maureen explained.

Kendall ruffled the lad’s hair and urged him to get in the car. ‘You mustn’t forget what the magistrate told you, Tommy. He gave you a stern warning that if you were to get into any more trouble, things wouldn’t be so simple next time. I know what happened wasn’t your fault, but you can’t go around plunging knives in people. You need to work hard at school and pass your exams, so you can get yourself a decent job when you leave. Your mum, Valerie, was a wonderful lady and that is what she would want you to do.’

‘OK.’

‘As for Ian Taylor, the police questioned him yesterday and he denied the accusations. But, because your medical examination proved certain things, the police will be charging him anyway. He’s been accused of a similar offence in the past, but the charges were dropped and the case never made it to court.’

‘I won’t have to go to court, will I?’

‘You’ll have to give some form of evidence. But hopefully you won’t have to stand in the dock or see your uncle.’

‘I can’t tell strangers what happened. I won’t.’

‘Look, don’t worry about that now. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, and you will have my support and Maureen’s every step of the way.’

Tommy spent the rest of the journey deep in thought. Just three months ago, he had a loving mum, two sisters who constantly squabbled over the record player, a beautiful dog, a man he called Dad and a woman he called Nan.

Now he had none of those things. They were all gone, in the blink of an eye.

Tommy had expected the children’s home to be a stark-looking property set in its own grounds. ‘Is this it?’ he asked, as the car stopped outside a big house on the corner of a street with lots of other houses.

‘Yes. You see those three properties?’ Maureen pointed. ‘Well, the council knocked them all into one to create this home. There are a few others in Dagenham, but this has a pleasant feel to it, Tommy. It’s more laid-back and the staff are nice too. I thought a mixed environment would be better for you than to be surrounded by all boys.’

Tommy was ushered inside the house by Maureen. PC Kendall, who had visited Tommy’s uncle’s home to pack up his clothes and belongings, fetched the suitcase out of the boot.

A plump, short lady and a tall, dark-haired man with a kind face greeted them. The man grinned. ‘Welcome to Maylands, Tommy. A little birdy told us it’s your thirteenth birthday today, so we thought we’d throw you a party later to mark the occasion. Not every day you become a teenager, is it? I’m Ray, by the way, and this here is Connie. We manage Maylands, so any problems – you come straight to one of us.’

A little lad wandered over. ‘I’m Kevin. What’s your name?’ he pried, tugging at Tommy’s sleeve.

Tommy spied a spotty-looking thin girl peering at him from around a doorframe, but she disappeared when he made eye contact with her. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want no birthday party this year.’ Tommy’s mum had always made a big fuss of his birthday and the thought of celebrating one without her did not appeal to him at all.

‘It’s nothing major, Tommy. We bought a couple of cakes and thought it might be a nice way of introducing you to the other residents. Most of them are at school at present and they all love cake,’ Connie chuckled.

‘I’d rather no one knew it’s my birthday,’ Tommy insisted.

‘No worries, lad. We understand,’ Ray replied. ‘Make our guests a cup of tea, Connie, while I show Tommy around.’

Maylands looked after children between eleven and sixteen years old, and Tommy was told he would be sharing a bedroom with another newcomer. ‘Benny only arrived here last week himself, so we thought it might be nice if you two shared. He’s half-caste. You OK with that?’

‘Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘I was just checking, as Benny had a tough time in the previous home he lived in. He was bullied because of his colour.’

‘How many lads actually live here?’ Tommy enquired.

‘Eleven at present, and nine girls. We like to think of ourselves as one big happy family here, Tommy. We are easy-going to a degree, but have a strict no-bullying policy. You are allowed to come and go as you please, provided you arrive home in time for dinner. That is served at 6 p.m. every day, including Sundays.’

‘So, can I go out on my own at weekends?’ A plan was already forming in Tommy’s mind. He’d find a local boxing gym and join it. He had money saved, mostly what the perve had given him.

‘Seeing as you are now officially classed as a teenager, yes, you can. We have a separate set of rules for the under-thirteens. But we don’t advise you going out alone. Most of the lads stick together, as do the girls.’

‘OK.’

Ray smiled. ‘Want to take a look at the games room?’

Tommy nodded politely. He couldn’t think straight. His head was all over the place.

When PC Kendall and Maureen left, Tommy unpacked his belongings and lay on his new bed. It was rock hard and when he inspected it further, the mattress had a plastic cover over it, which Tommy assumed was in case he pissed himself in the night.

He looked around the room. It was small with two single beds, two tiny chests of drawers, but he was drawn to the posters on the left wall. One was of the West Ham football team, but the others were sketches. One in particular caught his eye. It was a close-up of a dog’s face.

All of a sudden, the door burst open and a lad with a big Afro appeared. ‘You must be Tommy.’

Tommy sat up. ‘And you must be Benny.’

‘Yeah. I am. And believe me, you give me any shit, like my last roommate did, I will punch your fucking lights out.’

‘Why would I give you shit? I don’t even know you.’

‘Because I’m black.’

‘One of my best mates at my old school was black.’

Benny softened and held out his right hand. ‘Nice to meet ya, Tommy.’

‘Likewise.’

‘So, what’s your story?’

‘Whaddya mean?’

‘How did you end up here?’

‘My mum died and then I found out my dad weren’t me real dad. You?’ Tommy asked. Ray had reassured him that all his details would remain confidential and he was only to tell the others what he was comfortable with.

‘My mum didn’t want me living with her no more. She got a new bloke and me and him didn’t get on.’

‘That’s well bad.’

‘So is my mother, the dirty stinking whore.’

‘So, what’s it like in here? Ray and Connie seem all right.’

‘They’re OK. But don’t believe all that bullshit Ray told you on arrival. Did he mention the no-bullying policy?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, that’s bollocks. One of the lads tried to set fire to my hair on the way home from school last week. He is one nasty fucker.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘I ain’t no grass. You’ll find out for yourself soon enough. I’ve only been here a week and I know the rules already. Act sweet in front of Connie and Ray, and what happens outside of the home stays outside of the home. Got that?’

Tommy nodded, then pointed at the sketches on the wall. ‘They yours? I like the dog.’

‘That was my dog, Spike. I drew him myself.’

‘No way! That’s well ace. My dog has gone to live on a farm in Essex, but I’m gonna find out where and visit him soon. If I give you a picture of Rex, would you draw him too?’

‘There ain’t no such thing as a dog going to live on a farm in Essex, Tommy. Not in our world. That’s what we’re told when they kill ’em off.’

Tommy suddenly felt sick. ‘What?’

‘A farm in Essex means your dog was taken to the vet and put down. I know ’cause the same thing happened to my Spike.’

A lone tear rolled down Tommy’s cheek. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Tommy spent the rest of his birthday with his head under the blankets. He couldn’t get Rex’s trusting face out of his head. He’d loved his smell, his big slobbery kisses, and throwing sticks for him in the park. They’d been mates, best mates, and now he would never see Rex again. He was gone, like everyone else Tommy cared about.

‘You OK, Tommy?’ Ray tapped on the door. ‘I brought you a sandwich and a drink.’

‘I don’t want anything, thanks. But I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow,’ Tommy lied. He’d had to get out of meeting the other lads and having dinner tonight. Could not face food or company, so had feigned illness.

‘OK, lad. Give Connie or me a shout if you need anything.’

When Ray’s footsteps drifted away, Tommy propped his pillow up against the wall and punched it repeatedly.

He was no longer that innocent young boy he’d been before his mother died. He was now a streetwise, angry young man.

PART TWO

The course of true love never did run smooth.

William Shakespeare

CHAPTER TEN

Life in a children’s home ain’t no bed of roses let me tell you, but thankfully I managed to settle in fairly quickly.

The staff were OK, so were most of the lads, and I bonded with three in particular.

I also made an enemy. Wayne Bradley was a real pain in the butt. A nasty, vindictive, violent bully.

By this point, I was no normal teenager, mind. I had issues, plenty of them, and I wasn’t prepared to take shit from any bastard. I’d already nearly killed one wrong’un and I’d do it again if pushed too far. I had no fear. Reason being, I had nothing left to lose.

I often thought of my dear friends, the Darlings. But I had made my mind up that I never wanted to see them again. Their kindness would stay with me forever and I would never forget them, Danny in particular. But I needed no reminders of my short time spent in South London, thanks very much. I had new friends now and was determined to start afresh.

Sometimes in life though, all your plans go to pot and fate can be a fucker.

If only I’d known then what I know now.

You’ll see where I’m coming from soon enough …

Summer 1975

‘Behave yourself, lads. No scrapping or drinking alcohol. You’re to be back here by ten on the dot. Don’t let me down now, will you?’ warned Ray.

Tommy Boyle smiled sweetly. ‘We won’t mess up, and thanks again for giving us permission to go. We truly appreciate it, don’t we, lads?’

Standing behind Ray, Benny Crooks did a fingers-down-his-throat gesture.

‘Yeah. Cheers, Ray,’ said Martin Smith (a.k.a. Smiffy).

Knowing the first thing they would do was drink the cider they’d hidden earlier, Dumbo couldn’t help but giggle.

Tommy shook his head in despair as the four of them bowled outside. The monthly teenage disco at the local Catholic club was an extremely important event.

‘What’s that for?’ Dumbo winced, when Tommy slapped him around the head.

Luckily for Benny, his big Afro saved him from any pain Tommy’s right hand might have caused. ‘You’re such an arse licker,’ Benny chuckled.

‘And you two need to grow the fuck up,’ Tommy spat.

When his pal stormed off, Smiffy caught up with him and slung a friendly arm around Tommy’s neck. ‘You know what they’re like. They don’t mean no harm. They’re just immature.’

No way would Tommy ever hurt Benny, Dumbo or Smiffy. The four of them were good buddies, watched one another’s backs. But ever since what had happened to him, Tommy struggled to control his temper at times. He was no little squirt any more either. Since arriving at the children’s home two and a half years ago, Tommy no longer worried he would live the rest of his life as a dwarf. Not only had he shot up in height, his regular boxing training meant he could more than handle himself these days. He was strong, lean and the most feared lad at the home. That hadn’t always been the case, mind. That arsehole Wayne Bradley had led him a dog’s life once upon a time.

‘Here we go,’ Smiffy grinned, lifting the bottles of cider out of the bush. There was a no-alcohol policy at the youth disco. Only soft drinks were sold, but anyone even remotely cool would have a skinful before they arrived.

‘You got the hump with me, Tommy?’

Tommy glugged at the cider, then handed the bottle to Dumbo (a.k.a. Darren Prattley). Dumbo had earned his nickname because his ears were so bloody massive. He was also as thick as two short planks. ‘Nah. I ain’t got the hump, but you need to be more savvy in front of Ray. You and Benny acting like divs will only enlighten him to the fact we’ll be boozing.’

Smiffy lit up a cigarette. The monthly disco had only been going since May but was already a big hit. ‘Tommy’s right. You two need to act more sensible, otherwise you’ll balls this special privilege up for us.’

Benny nodded. ‘Understood.’

Dumbo grinned. ‘Yeah, sorry.’

By the time the lads arrived at the Catholic club, they were in high spirits. Lots of their schoolmates were already there, but the four lads always made a pact to stick together. Most of the kids at Eastbrook Comprehensive were cool towards them. Tommy had carved out a reputation as one of the hardest boys in his year, but because of their upbringing and the stigma attached to living in a children’s home, the boys always felt far more comfortable in one another’s company.

‘You look like one of the Jackson Five with that clobber on,’ Smiffy laughed.

Dressed in a silky orange shirt with a huge collar and beige flared trousers, Benny grinned. ‘Fuck you. I is the bee’s knees. You watch the girls flock my way. I got the moves.’

The lads chuckled as Benny danced to the sultry sound of George McCrae’s ‘Rock Your Baby’. Benny’s dad was from Jamaica and Benny had never met him. Tommy reckoned he must have been a cool dude though. Benny’s mother was an ugly fat cow, so the lad must have inherited his looks, charm and slick moves from elsewhere. He was popular with the girls too. At the last couple of discos he’d ended up snogging at least four.

Seeing Laura Higgins, one of the best-looking girls in his year, staring at him, Tommy turned his back on her. He knew he wasn’t a bad-looking lad because he’d been asked out by loads of girls, but he always declined. He had never even kissed a girl, not properly anyway. The thought of getting close to anyone after what that perve had done to him, literally filled him with dread. So he chose to concentrate instead on his boxing and football, and having a laugh with his mates.

Dumbo nudged Tommy. ‘Laura Higgins keeps looking at me.’

Rather than inform his pal he had more chance of flying to the moon than copping off with Laura Higgins, Tommy smiled. ‘Yep. I think you’re in there, pal.’

The rest of the evening passed in a happy blur. Benny stole the show by limbo-dancing to Typically Tropical’s ‘Barbados’, which earned him a snog with two girls. Smiffy pulled a munter who gave him a wank outside. Dumbo got a slap around the face when he pinched Laura Higgins’ bum, and Tommy spent most of the evening trying to avoid Laura Higgins and another girl with ginger hair who kept following him around.