Respect (Mandasue Heller) Read Online Free PDF Page A

any idea what it’s doing to my poor wife?’ Stuart continued, gesturing angrily back towards his own flat. ‘She’s ill in there, and the doctor said she needs complete rest. But how the hell is she supposed to rest with this going on?’
    ‘I’ll sort it out,’ Chantelle assured him when he paused to draw breath.
    ‘You’d better,’ Stuart warned, ‘because I’m this close to calling the police.’ He held up his hand and squeezed his thumb and forefinger together, before adding, ‘And then I’ll report you to the council, because you’re making our lives a living bloody hell!’
    His voice had risen in pitch and his face was so red that he looked like he was going to have a fit. Chantelle had never particularly cared for him, because he was such a miserable old git, but she genuinely felt sorry for him and his wife right now.
    ‘I’m really, really sorry,’ she told him sincerely. ‘I’ll make sure it goes off. And it won’t happen again – I promise.’
    Stuart wanted to go on, but he sensed from the pained look in her eyes that the girl was as distressed as he and his wife were, and it pierced his bubble of anger. Exhaling wearily, he said, ‘Yes, well, just make sure it doesn’t. I know it’s not your fault, and I really don’t want to cause trouble, but this is unacceptable – you must see that?’
    Chantelle nodded and, promising again that she would sort it out, closed the door. Then, gritting her teeth, she marched into Leon’s room. Furious to see that he had pulled his quilt up over his head and gone to sleep, leaving his CD on repeat play, she switched his hi-fi off and stood over him. The temptation to wake him and give him what-for was overwhelming, but she knew that would only end up in another row, which was the last thing she needed with Stuart already on the warpath. So, resisting the urge, she went back to her own room, telling herself that their mum could deal with him in the morning.

3
    When she woke the next morning, Chantelle wasn’t impressed to see that her mum still hadn’t come home or switched her phone back on. Determined not to have a repeat of yesterday when, thanks to Leon, she hadn’t been able to properly concentrate on her revision, she got dressed and pulled her coat on, all set to march round to Tracey’s and drag her mum back.
    Before she went, she popped her head around Leon’s door and sighed when she saw him spreadeagled across the bed. As much as he’d been annoying her lately with his smart mouth and cocky attitude, he was still her baby brother and she loved him to bits. She always had – from the first time she’d ever clapped eyes on him when his dad, Glenroy King, had brought him and their mum home from hospital. He’d been a living, breathing dolly, and Chantelle had insisted on changing his nappies and feeding him his bottles – which had delighted their mum, because it had left her free to run after Glenroy. Not that it had worked, because he had walked out soon after.
    A muscular bald-headed Jamaican with a dazzling smile, a husky voice and a smooth line in patter, Glenroy had spread his love freely around every willing female on the estate – Mary’s friends included. He’d also had a vicious temper and, as young as she’d been back then, Chantelle still remembered how scared her mum used to be when he’d get in a mood. His eyes would blaze as if there was a fire burning behind them, and his fists would fly with the slightest provocation. Unfortunately, Leon had inherited that temper along with the good looks, and Chantelle sometimes wondered how their mum was going to cope with him when he got bigger and started hitting out – and he would, she was sure, because it was in his genes.
    But she didn’t want to think about that right now. So, quietly closing his door, she let herself out and walked quickly over to Tracey’s flat. After knocking several times and getting no answer, she gave up and headed over to the Saturday market