Read Philip Brennan 03-Cage of Bones for Free Online

insistent this time, harder. The voice saying her name louder. ‘Donna … ’
    Donna opened her eyes. Closed them again. ‘Just a few more minutes, Ben. Let Auntie Donna sleep.’ Christ, listen to her. Auntie Donna. Must be desperate.
    She closed her eyes, hoped he would do as he was told. Knew he wouldn’t.
    ‘’M hungry … ’
    Anger coursed through Donna Warren’s body. Her first response was to lash out with a fist, smack this kid square in the face, remind him that life wasn’t fucking fair and that just because he was hungry didn’t mean he was going to get fed. Who did he think she was? His mother, for Christ’s sake?
    She closed her eyes tight, knowing at the same time that he wasn’t going to be fooled by that.
    Her arm snaked slowly out from under her, patted the other side of the bed. ‘Where’s your mother?’ Donna’s voice sounded slurred, like an old-school VHS tape at the wrong speed.
    But Ben understood. ‘Don’ know … Get up. ’M hungry … ’
    Donna sighed. No good. She would have to get up. The anger subsided. Poor little bastard. Wasn’t his fault his mother hadn’t come home last night. No, but when she did turn up, Donna would be so fucking angry with her … Leaving her alone with her kid like that. Saying she wouldn’t be long.
    She swung out of bed, planted her feet on the floor. The cold penetrated her numbness. She gave a small shiver. Her head spun. Too much booze the night before. Cider and vodka cocktails. Home-made. With blackcurrant. Had seemed like a good idea at the time, especially with Bench and Tommer turning up, supplying the weed and the charlie. Faith should have been there. Didn’t know what she had missed. And she could have helped sort them both out, instead of getting all secretive on her and going out. As it was, Donna did the two of them herself. The drugs and booze needed paying for. Fair’s fair. She didn’t mind. Much.
    She looked at Ben, standing there in his washed-out Spider-Man pyjamas, knowing he wasn’t the first kid to have worn them. ‘All right … ’ She pulled her dressing gown around her. ‘I’m comin’ … ’
    By the time she made her way downstairs, bones creaking like a woman at least ten, if not twenty, years older than the thirty-two she was, Ben was already down there. He’d probably been through the kitchen cupboards, seen what was there, helped himself, even. And he still wanted her to cook for him. Little bastard.
    She stopped in the living room, looked at the mess from the previous night. Just like them. Turn up, trash the house, piss off. But she couldn’t complain. She had helped them do it. And the place wasn’t exactly tidy to begin with.
    She reached the kitchen, looked in the fridge, found some bacon.
    ‘You wanna bacon sandwich?’
    Sitting at the table expectantly, Ben’s eyes lit up. ‘Yeah … ’
    ‘Well make me one an’ all.’
    Ben frowned as Donna laughed at her own joke. ‘Put the kettle on. D’you know how to do that?’
    He nodded, took the kettle to the sink, filled it with water, crossed back to the counter, flicked the switch.
    ‘Good lad.’
    He smiled, enjoying the praise.
    Donna put the pan on the gas, started to cook the bacon.
    ‘Some Coke in the fridge. Get yourself some.’
    Ben did. Donna went back to cooking. He wasn’t a bad kid. She had known worse. She had been worse. But he still wasn’t her responsibility. And she would let Faith know in no uncertain fucking terms as soon as she bothered to turn up.
    She served up the bacon sandwiches, slathering margarine and ketchup on Ben’s white bread first. He wolfed his down. Donna lit a fag to accompany hers. Rubbed her eyes.
    ‘You got to go to school today?’ she said to the boy.
    He shrugged, nodded. ‘S’posed to.’
    Christ, what an upheaval. Donna’s head was ringing. The sandwich and the fag hadn’t helped. ‘Well you’ve got a day off today.’
    Ben smiled.
    Sooner Faith came back, sooner she could go back to bed.