When he reached his car he breathed a slight sigh of relief that he had managed to get there without hand cuffs being slapped on his wrists, or the barrel of a gun shoved into his face. He got in and drove off as quickly as he could without attracting attention. Still, he wasn't so fast that when he pulled out of the car park in front of the pub, that he didn't see Vince sitting at the table, glancing nervously between the bar and the toilet door, as he drove past the front window. He wondered sadly how long he would sit there for before he realised something was wrong, that he wasn't coming back. Would Vince check the toilet, he wondered, the cold air from the open window would hit him like a slap in the face as he found the toilets empty and realised what he had done. Wanting to turn his brain off for a bit, he put on a jazz CD and scatted along softly to it as his car ate up the miles back to his house.

He hadn't even got through the front door before his home phone started ringing again. Hearing the synthesised tone reminded him that he had left his mobile with Vince. He pressed his fingers into his temples and squeezed his eyes shut, willing the phone to stop ringing. Maybe if the phone just stopped ringing his head would stop feeling like it was going to explode. It was Vince again, it had to be. How had he made such a big mistake with this kid? As the phone rang off, leaving behind it deafening silence, Howard realised his whole body was tensed his teeth gritted, his toes digging into the ground. He had just started to force himself to relax, one muscle at a time, when the phone started ringing once more. Howard crossed the room in two strides,

"What?" he screamed into the handset.

"It's me again, Vince Noir," a forced tinkling laugh. He didn't sound so sure of himself this time, there was almost a tremor to his voice.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Come back, please. Come to my flat….." he trailed off into nothing.

"Fuck off, I swear – I'm going to…Arggghhh!" Howard ran his fingers roughly through his hair, "Why won't you just fuck off? I'm not giving you any more money!"

"I don't want any more money. It's number 248 by the way. The big tower block,"

Howard paused, unable to think of a single thing to say to this maddening, infuriating, beautiful idiot. His eyes widened when he heard it, what sounded like a quiet sobbing down the phone. It couldn't be. And even if it was…. This boy was nothing to do with him and that was the way he wanted it to stay. In as calm a voice as he could manage, enunciating all the words so he was sure Vince would hear and understand, he spoke into the receiver,

"Vince. I need you to listen to me very carefully and not to speak any more. I'm going to hang up the phone in a minute and under no circumstances are you to phone me again. I mean it. Vince, if you do, I swear, I will end you,"

"But – "

"I'm serious. You've just told me where you live. I'll come and set fire to your flat at night, when I know you're inside asleep,"

"You don't mean that," Vince countered. Howard could hear an almost laughing in his voice that made his stomach flip over, before his tone grew serious, little more than a hoarse whisper, "Please. I don't know why, I know I've only just met you. Jeez, I don't even know your name but I just need…you,"

"Goodbye Vince,"

Howard slammed the phone down, his whole body shaking with rage and something else entirely more terrifying. Barely a second later, the phone started ringing again. With a roar, Howard ripped the phone out of the wall, leaving the bare wires dangling out of the hole where the socket used to be. Without seeing, he threw it across the room where it shattered against the opposite wall, sending scream after scream to follow it. Only after the red mist cleared from his eyes he realised that he had left himself entirely without means of communications. As much as he hated to even entertain the idea, much as the idea of sticking red hot needles under his fingernails seemed like more of a fun prospect, as much as he knew leaving the house again was sheer lunacy, he knew he needed to get his mobile back. He had to go and see Vince. His mind started playing out a hundred scenarios – should he beat the shit out of him and take the phone back by force, even though he would give it willingly? Should he speak to him? Would the boy think it was only an excuse to see him again? Was it? Letting out a sigh that he dragged up from the tips of his toes, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the sofa and headed out the door.

He pushed the door of the flat tentatively and it swung open without a sound. That wasn't a good sign – no one would leave their door unlocked around here if they were in their right mind. His fingers caught on the splintered wood where the lock had been kicked open. As he peered into the room Howard bit his lip to stop himself audibly gasping at the scene before him. It looked like a riot had run through the room. Every bit of furniture had been turned over or smashed – a threadbare arm chair lay at a crazy angle, a sofa bed had been pulled apart and the pillows slashed with a knife so the feathers lay thickly around, and the few items of crockery and cutlery had been thrown from the cupboard of the tiny kitchenette – it was clear that Vince did all his living in this one room. Magazines had been pulled from the shelves and strewn across the floor. The curtains were ripped down and the orange glow from the streetlight shone through the single small window. However, Howard didn't see any of this – all he could see was Vince, crumpled up against a wall in the corner, whimpering quietly to himself. His face was dripping with blood from a wound that Howard couldn't see from somewhere above his hairline and one of his eyes was already swollen shut. His previously fashionable clothes were dirty and torn and from his laboured breathing and the way he held his arm protectively across his front, Howard guessed that he had broken at least one rib. He could see from the trail of blood over the floor that Vince had to drag himself across the room to get to the ancient looking beige telephone that lay on the floor next to him. His head snapped up and the look in his one good eye was wild and staring, like a trapped animal. Howard held his hands up to show he was unarmed and began speaking gently as he moved slowly across the room towards Vince,

"Shh shh, Vince. It's me. You phoned me,"

He was a couple of feet away before Vince seemed to visibly relax and threw himself into Howard's arms. Howard looked up at the ceiling, wondering why every shirt he put on today was destined to get covered in blood – this one, a Hawaian shirt in varying shades of brown, would at least hide the stains a little.

"You came. I didn't think you would,"

Howard wondered briefly why he had risked his life and freedom to come out and see this kid, for the second time,

"You sounded like you needed someone,"

Howard looked round the room slowly, doubting whether Vince had had anything worth stealing in the first place. That must've been painfully obvious to anyone that broke in but to take it out on the boy was just unfair. Still, there were so many new kids coming up in the game – everyone with a gun and a bad attitude was seeking to make a name for themselves nowdays. It used to be so different, more like a trade, skills to learn instead of just showing someone the pointy end of your knife. It wasn't until Howard caught sight of the money, the same roll of notes that he had given to Vince just a few hours earlier, sat on top of the gas fire, in full view, that alarm bells started to ring,

"What have they taken then Vince, TV, DVD player?

"No I never had them in the first place,"

"What then, look around,"

Vince looked round the room, bemusedly taking stock of his meagre possessions. It didn't take long,

"Nothing,"

"Nothing? Nothing at all? What did they want then, you in some sort of trouble?"

"No – oh, something is missing," Vince's hands fluttered awkwardly over his clothes, patting himself down as his eyes scanned the room, "Your phone – the one you lent me. I'm so sorry, it looked expensive, not that I suppose you're worried about that. But if there's anything –"

Howard cut him off, his voice low and dangerous,

"The man that broke in, what did he look like?"

"He was kind of funny looking – old, with long white hair like Jimmy Saville and his clothes were old fashioned, like he had come from being an extra in Mary Poppins. The thing is Howard, this is going to sound weird but he was….green,"

"Green?"

"Yeah, with one normal eye and one big eye like a giant polo,"

Howard steadied himself as a memory swum to the forefront of his mind. His boss teasing him about his flash new mobile 'That's a fancy phone you got there squire. Of course in my day there was no such thing. People used to have to leave a message for me in Elsie's Pie and Mash shop if they wanted me. Course, I'm no good at texting, not with this humungous thumb," his bony green fingers closed around the phone to examine it speculatively as Howard had boasted about the fact that it was one of the only ones in the UK. His stomach went into freefall.

"We have to get out of here. Now!" He grabbed Vince by the arm and dragged him bodily from the flat as he flailed his arms and tried to run back in. They made no progress for a couple of seconds until Vince stood still and shouted

"Stop!"

It shocked Howard sufficiently for Vince to wriggle free from his grasp and dart forward to pick up a large black canvas case from the corner of the room before turning and running after Howard without looking back or even bothering to shut the front door.