Hoi Polloi Read Online Free PDF Page A

take a weapon. Some baby I’d be then. The knives in the kitchen. If I had one of them then because I’m tall for my age I could reach up and stab a hori in the stomach.
    I go to my room. It’s beside Heels and Winks’ room. Heels is lying on her bed silent now between sobs so I better be quiet pulling my clothes over my pyjamas, doing up my shoes. I put a pillow under the blankets to fake my body. I crawl low on hands and knees so Heels won’t notice my shadow pass her door towards the front door which is always locked. I’ll have to take the spare key from the hook beside the front door to get back in. Once through the door floor-boards creak all the way along the guest hall but who’s going to hear my footsteps above the din of bar voices below?
    What sort of knife? Choose one. I’m taking too long. I don’t really want to go downstairs and help Winks. That’s why I’m dilly-dallying here in the kitchen dark. I should choose a knife with a pointy end, the ones with rough sides are good for nothing but bread. I select one with a smooth side and hold it up to the streetlight light shining through the window. This one’s good, a bit heavy but pointy. This one is the one to take. I’ll name it Sword.
    The stairs dog-leg down to the lobby. The bend in the stairs, the part where the stairs become floor for a second, is what I consider the top of the stairs because it’s my lookout perch. The swing doors of the Public Bar are directly below and in front of me. The Lounge Bar is off to the right. The phone box is tucked away to the left at the foot of the stairs. Further left is the hotel entrance, the foyer. I crouch behind the stair post. I use my sleeve as a sheath for Sword but the blade is cold and might cut my arm so I slip it under the loose carpet on a step.
    “Why no pool cues boss? Can’t play pool with no cues boss?” Winks will not put the cues back on the table because they’re for pool, not for hitting someone across the head.
    “Can’t play pool with no cues boss.”
    Winks tells the hori who’s saying this that he has to leave, get out of the hotel, he’s not allowed back in the bar. He grabs him by his denim elbow. The hori jerks his elbow free. Winks tells him to get out now or there’ll be a carry-on. He tells him he’s got to the count of five. He tells two footballers with rolled-up sleeves and dented noses to pick up the motorbike blocking the front door and if its owner won’t move it then feel free to throw it into the fucking street. One. Two. Three. Move. Four. Out. Five.
    Winks grabs a handful of the denim hori. Should I run down now to help? I pull Sword from the carpet. The denim hori is bigger than Winks but Winks is fast, his aim is good. His blows hit the denim hori’s face. The denim hori misses with his fists. Winks’ buttons rip off. His shirt hangs out, torn. He tips the denim hori to the floor and a footballer helps him to snatch and yank on denim and hair until the hori has been dragged out the front door while yelling long and wordless.
    Two other denim horis barge through the Public Bar swing doors and stomp towards Winks with their fists held up. They call the hori who was just dragged out their brother and shout that Winks is a cunt. Three footballers run out of the Public Bar after them, tackle them to the ground. Winks comes back through the front door, tucking his shirt in, but there’s another denim hori behind him who’s shaking out a length of thick chain. He’s going to swing it at Winks, I can see it coming. I open my mouth and scream “Chain” with all my body but no sound comes out as in a dream when I run but don’t get anywhere. My voice is frozen inside me and will not shift. My legs, my fist clenching the knife, are frozen. I push and push but no sound. The chain hits Winks across the neck. Still my voice is frozen. No sound. Winks catches the end of the chain and is tug-of-warring with the horis. My legs are so weak they tremble and are about