“Wahya wan?” she asked.
Andrew smiled at the woman who, he now noticed, was wearing nothing but a flimsy nightgown that was a size too small. “Are you Frankie’s mother?”
She gave Andrew a drilling stare and her eyes narrowed. “Who are ya? Don’t look like yer from the social.”
“That’s because I’m not.”
“So wahya wan then?” The woman was shouting now, her words coming out in aggressive slurs and bad breath – alcohol and smoke. “Wahya wan with my Frankie?”
“So you are his mother? I was hoping you could have a word with him for me?”
“About wah?”
Andrew took a deep breath and tried not to let the woman’s inability to have a polite conversation deter him. He still believed that everyone had the capacity for rationality – it was just deeply buried in some people. Especially when they’re drunk and possibly stoned.
“He’s been causing me some problems,” said Andrew. “He broke into my home last night and today he vandalised my car.”
The woman snorted back a nose full of snot. “Got proof?”
“Do I need it?” asked Andrew. “I’m simply asking you to talk to him. I don’t wish to cause any trouble for you, ma’am. I just want Frankie to leave my family and me alone.”
The woman huffed. “He don’t listen to me. Does wah he wans, that boy.”
“But you’re his mother.”
“Don’t mean a thing. Speak to im ya’self.”
Before Andrew had chance to stop her, the drunken woman was shouting up the stairs, yelling for Frankie to come down. Andrew felt his skin get tight as he anticipated another encounter with the young thug.
Sure enough, Frankie appeared behind his mother only a mument later, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts. She turned to look at him as he arrived. “Man says you been botherin’ him.”
Frankie looked at Andrew and his face lit up with recognition. Then he started to smirk. “Dunno what the bloke’s on about. Never seen him before.”
Frankie’s mother shrugged her shoulders at Andrew. The motion made her night dress ride inappropriately up her thighs. “Never seen ya in his life, he sez.”
“With all due respect,” said Andrew, “that’s a lie.”
Frankie pushed past his mother and stood in the doorway. “Who you calling a fucking liar?”
Andrew sighed. He wasn’t going to get drawn into an argument. “Frankie, can we please just stop this? I have done nothing to you.”
Frankie’s smirk widened. “I think you need a lie down, mate, cus I ain’t got a clue what you’re on about. Like I said, never seen you before.”
Andrew clenched his fists, but then willed them to open again. Losing his cool would not help the situation. “Frankie, the police know all about you and what you’ve been doing. If you don’t stop now you’ll end up in trouble.”
“I don’t see how,” said a young girl suddenly appearing in the doorway. It was the same one who had been in Frankie’s group the night it all began – the one who had called Andrew a pedo. She was wearing a skimpy pair of pink shorts and just a bra.
“Frankie’s been with me last couple of days,” she said, “and we ain’t left the bedroom, except to eat.”
“See, yer wrong!” Frankie’s mother slurred at Andrew. “Want to watch who ya start accusin’, mate.”
“I am not wrong,” Andrew stated. “This young lady has been just as much involved in what’s going on as he has.”
The girl laughed at him. “You must be high. I would remember an old perv like you if I met one. You’re talking a load of shit, mate.”
“You’re Charlie’s friend, aren’t you?” asked Andrew, putting two and two together.