"What happened?" Howard asked, when Vince had calmed down and was dipping a biscuit into his tea.
"I dunno," the kid shrugged. "I don't like working on this day. It's the only day I have off a year."
"13th July?" Howard asked, "why?"
"Only day that's important," he shrugged. "Then Paul comes along and forces his way in here. He wouldn't take no for an answer. You know Paul, yeah? He works with ya?"
"Yeah," Howard nodded. They'd dragged Paul out of the building and left him to recover. He'd still had a pulse. He was fine.
"I think a few of the people who come here work with ya." Vince rattled off a list of names. Howard recognised them all.
"Right upper-class whore I am," he grinned. "They're all the same though. Fat, more money than sense, got their jobs because they're the son of someone. Or a friend of someone else. They're bored with their uninventive wives. Boisterous and confident. Use and abuse us." Vince was glaring at something in the corner of the room. Howard turned to see what it was. Suddenly, Vince grabbed his face and pulled him to look at him, straddling his lap.
"Don't," he whispered in his ear. "You …" Vince continued, dropping his voice so Howard could hardly make out what he was saying, "you're not like them at all. You only moved to this town a few years ago. You had no family or friends to get you your job. You worked hard to get to where you are now. You weren't involved with the Chandos Rise corruption and yet, you're still on my list. I've never understood why you come to me."
"I … I … I don't..."
"It's okay," Vince smiled, moving back a little so he was balancing on Howard's knees. "It's fine. I don't mind you. I prefer you to the others."
"Coz I tip more?"
"Coz you act like you care," Vince answered calmly, letting his fingers play with the curls of Howard's scruffy hair. "It's nice to be with someone who isn't constantly reminding me I'm a whore and that they're paying for me to do what they tell me." There was a pause and then, "I've never slept with anyone who cares about me. I've never had anyone that cares about me."
The kid looked down and right then Howard saw a man who'd been beaten down and used all his life. He looked meek and weak and above all he looked young.
"How old are you Vince?"
"Eighteen." Just a child really, Howard concluded and he suddenly felt even worse about all the times he'd used Vince himself. He was still just a boy.
"How long have you been working?"
"Since I was sixteen," Vince said, "I was costing Frank money."
"Who?"
"Er …" Vince faltered, sliding off Howard's lap.
Just then, the little boy from the steps peeked around the door.
"Pip," moaned Vince, grateful for the change in conversation, "what have I told you about coming in here when I've got people around?"
"But it's your day off," moaned the child. "Why are you working? That fat man said he'd made an appointment with ya."
"I'm … I'm not working anymore."
"So what about 'im?" The boy pointed a finger accusingly at Howard.
"He's not here for that," Vince assured him. "Come on, are you hungry?"
The little boy nodded and skipped into the room. Vince got up and went to the filthy kitchen part of the flat.
"Hello mister," the boy held out a grubby hand to Howard, "I fink we met on the stairs. The name's Phillip Francis Furni-."
"Pip!" Vince shouted quickly.
"Er … Noir. Phillip Francis Noir."
"Did you say Furnier?" Howard asked.
"No," the little boy lied, his blue eyes widening even more. He had cheekbones that jutted a little despite the baby fat and cheeky grin. He had a way about him that was all too familiar. Howard looked up at Vince who was looking back, a strangled sadness on his face. They looked exactly the same.
"Pip, go and get the others. Tell them it's time to eat."
"Okay Vince," Pip grinned running off.
"So is he your son?" Howard asked.
"Howard do your maths, I'd have been ten."
"Oh. Brother then?"
Vince nodded slowly.
"Furnier?" Howard asked. Vince didn't move this time. He neither confirmed nor denied anything.
"Vincent Furnier?" Howard tried again.
Again, Vince didn't move.
"So what? You're Collin's son. Ah, okay and that's why you don't work today because this is the day he died."
Vince still stayed silent but his head nodded just a little.
"And when he died, his assets, everything he owned … he left to the government."
"Think smaller," Vince whispered in a strangled painful way.
"The council?"
"Smaller."
"The …" Howard thought for a second. He stared at Vince and the boy just stared back, he was willing Howard to guess. And suddenly it dawned on him . Vince had said he 'wasn't making Frank any money.'
"The mayor?" Howard asked.
Vince smiled at him.
"The mayor." Howard repeated slowly. "Collin Furnier left everything he had, including his two children," Vince made a gesture to signal more, "three children?" Vince nodded again. "To the mayor. Why?"
Vince didn't answer, once again he was silent and frozen. Just then, Pip appeared with teenage boy who looked almost identical to Vince and Howard concluded he must be the third brother. Behind him were kids of all colour and size.
"Pip, Dan, come here a minute," Vince called over the noise of chattering children. The Furnier brother's crowded into a corner and Vince started whispering to them. They nodded, looking over at Howard and then to that spot in the corner that Vince kept staring at. Howard went to turn around again but the boy named Dan was there immediately. He crouched down and whispered in Howard's ear.
"You have to leave, now. Don't turn around."
Howard nodded slowly and sidestepped his way awkwardly out of the room.
Dan took him down the stairs and got into the car next to Howard.
"Drive," he told him. "I'll explain everything just drive."
--
"His flat's bugged?" Howard asked. They were parked in a leafy alcove just a few hundred yards away from Chandos Rise. Howard knew it well, it wasn't the first time he'd parked here. In the early days Vince used to make him go here all the time.
"Not bugged as such as a studio. He's bugged. Everything he does and says is monitored."
"Why?"
"Because he's a liability."
"How?"
"He and Frank are the only people who know what really went on before our dad died. I was five I can barely remember it and Pip wasn't even born. We're the only people who still really know what goes on. My brother could probably bring down the entire council. Every single one of you has been to that flat, whether it be with him or one of the women Frank employs. Frank gets it all on tape. Keeps them for blackmail. Sells the kinkier ones on the internet. You're the only one Frank doesn't know about, because you're the only Vince wouldn't bring back. I don't know why but he seems to think you're special. That you're different somehow. I think he's just got a soft spot for tall, dark and handsome. I think you're just as corrupt as the rest of them. You've got your misses at home, just like the rest of them. You earn more money than you know what to do with, just like the rest of them. You pay to fuck my brother, just like the rest of them. Except your worse, because somehow, you're managing to break his heart."
"I wouldn't pay if I didn't have to," Howard cried.
Dan just smirked, "and he's breaking yours. You're both pathetic. It can never happen. You're getting yourself into a whole world of things you can never understand. I suggest you stay out of it."
"But what about Vince?"
"He wants you away from all this…"
"B-"
"Leave," Dan repeated, getting out of the car.
"Dan, how old are you?"
"Fifteen."
"When are you sixteen?"
"Next month."
"Aren't you at all afraid that Frank's going to make you do the same as Vince does."
Dan's expression didn't falter. He just stared hard at Howard.
"Leave," He said sternly, slamming the door and walking back to Chandos.
--
"Everything okay?" Vince asked, when Dan came back to the room. Dan nodded slowly.
"He won't be coming back round here in a hurry."
"Good," Vince nodded. Then he saw the strange expression on Dan's face. "Are you okay?"
"It's only a month Vince," Dan sighed, "I don't want to..."
"I know," Vince cut in, putting his arms around his brother. "Go and eat something, try not to think about it, okay?"
Dan nodded and sat down with the children.
"Eat up Shelly," Vince smiled down at a large blonde girl with pigtails. "You'll be moaning you're hungry later and I've run out of chocolate."
"Awwww," groaned a few of the children.
"But we didn't have any last week," moaned a boy of a about twelve.
"I know, I'm sorry," Vince apologised. "I'll … I'll work harder next week."
"Don't," Dan said in a tone that was almost a beg.
"Please Vince," Pip agreed, attacking his leg with a hug, "we can go without chocolate."
"We can't!" the boy spoke again.
"Rob shut up," Dan said, punching him on the shoulder, "stop demanding things. Be happy you've even got food."
"Sorry," the boy apologized quickly, rubbing his arm, "I can go without chocolate too."
Vince smiled weakly and leant against the kitchen counter. He watched as the children scoffed their two chicken nuggets and handful of chips. They were hungry, of course they were, but the majority of Vince's money was going to Frank and the rest he was splitting between eleven children. Eleven kids born out of prostitution and born into a life of nothing. A life where there mum's didn't want them. Vince took them all in. He kept them clothed and fed and cleaned as well as he could but it was hard. It had always been hard. It probably always would be.
