15
“Why are you answering your mum’s phone? Is everything okay?” Mickey swung his car into a space on an estate on the other side of Bletchley and checked he’d called the right number. He was used to Rosetta De Luca’s phone ringing out or going straight to voicemail. It had been... fuck, he didn’t even know how long it had been since an actual human had answered.
Gianna De Luca giggled. “You sound really freaked out.”
“I’m just surprised. I was going to leave a message. Now, answer my question. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Mum’s in the bath. I think she would’ve answered if she’d heard the phone. She’s doing much better at that.”
“It went well with the counsellor then?”
“Uh-huh. She’s trying really hard. She made my brother breakfast the other day.”
Mickey searched his car for cigarettes. Over the past few weeks, the time he’d spent with Benito had been so healthy and wholesome his consumption had gone down, but in the middle of the longest Wednesday in the history of Wednesdays, he needed a fucking smoke.
The glovebox was empty, though, and a scrambled hand under the seats turned up nothing either.
Sighing, he focused on Gianna. OnBenito’ssister. Because wasn’t that a lovely conflict of interest? “Breakfast? That’s nice.”I know he likes breakfast.“For you too, I guess?”
“I wasn’t here. I was at school. But Beni said he’s going to come and see Mum more when I’m not around. Surprise her so she doesn’t get scared and lock him out.”
“She asked me to do that too. No breakfast offer, though. Maybe I’m in the wrong job.”
Gianna laughed like a tinkling bell. Mickey smiled too. Benito’s little sister was wise beyond her years, and it felt good to hear her sound her age. “She has lemon cake in the fridge if you wanted to drop by today. I won’t tell her you might come.”
Mickey eyed the clock. Convincing an elderly tenant she didn’t need to keep every newspaper she’d ever bought had already taken an hour longer than he had time for, and he had no real reason to visit Rosetta De Luca beyond a welfare check that wasn’t strictly necessary now he’d spoken to Gianna, but...
She was Benito’s mother. His family. Whatever he and Mickey were to each other, he wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to make sure her and Gianna were safe and well.
“Okay,” he said. “Don’t tell her I’m coming because I might not make it, but if I get time, I’ll swing by before I head home.”
Gianna agreed and ended the call, leaving Mickey to stare at his phone and wonder if Wednesday was trying to turn his entire world upside down.
He spent the rest of the day on the Netherfield estate, driving from house to house and dealing with everything from unpaid rent to fixing doors that had been kicked in by the police. Sometimes he screwed the doors back in himself and “forgot” to write a report. Not because he gave a shit about whoever was stashing coke and weed in their nan’s loft, but because he wasn’t about to evict a ninety-year-old from her home because her grandson was a scrote.
Is he a scrote, though? Or is he just a kid with no options?
Mickey drowned out whatever answer his brain conjured up with his drill. The crunching sound suited his mood, and the vibration of the drill masked any jitters in his hands, but it wasn’t all bad. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit the last few weeks had been easier with Benito around. They didn’t do much, just walked around, shared cheap meals, and worked out at Mickey’s gym. They hadn’t fucked. Or even kissed. And despite a raging inferno in his bones every time Benito was close, Mickey was okay with that.
He wanted Benito more than ever, but somehow, the simple things had begun to matter more.
It was five o’clock when he left Netherfield. Traffic was murder. By the time Isha called, Mickey hadn’t moved for twenty minutes.
Isha chuckled. “Sorry about that, but it’s probably just as well. I just got out of a meeting with the council and the cladding firm that did Barnfield. They’re coming in two weeks to install the fire breaks.”
“The fire breaks they said we didn’t need because there’s nothing unsafe about that fucking cladding?”
“Yes, those ones,” Isha said dryly. “Turns out they were full of shit, but that’s no surprise. They wanted to wait until the summer to install the breaks, but Dom went postal on them and they, er, changed their minds.”
“Too fucking right,” Mickey grunted, grateful, as ever, that he worked for people who didn’t flinch when he spoke his mind. “Are they doing the whole building or just our flats?”
“The whole building. Dom went off in front of the council bosses, so I’m pretty sure the entire city will be done by the end of the year.”
“Nice one.”
“Yes, I thought so. Are you okay to visit our residents before you go home tonight and let them know what’s happening? We’ll send letters, but I’d like them to hear it in person too, if that’s possible, so we can reassure them we’re doing everything we can to keep them safe.”
“I can do that,” Mickey said, his rueful grin all for himself. “As it happens, I’m not far away.”