I think she deserved it.

You know what? I think she deserved it. I do. I don't know what was
wrong with her. She had to start getting lippy, getting smart, didn't
she? But I showed her, I did. I don't know who she thought she was, but
I taught her.
We had a young babe, we did. A right lovely little thing. Everyone said
she looked just like me. Anyway, with a kid you need money, don't you.
I would've gone to work, but a bloke like me - what could I earn? Balls
all compared to what she would make. So I told her. I said 'You've had
boyfriends before. It'd be nothing new, like.' I said 'The babe has to
eat' and that. I used to get a bit of cash here and there like, but it
wasn't enough for the three of us. Raising a kid - it ain't cheap you
know.
I told her it'd be a breeze, like. Well it would be, wouldn't it.
Sitting around rabbiting and that - a few drinks here and a few drinks
there. A little bit of dancing, air con. And all. Go back with one of
them foreign mugs, give him a bit, get the cash, go home. If I was a
bird, I'd do it. My sister done it. Done right well out of it, rest her
soul. She paid for the house back home and had more gold than a temple
roof, she did. Yeah, damn shame. But you can't hang around forever, can
you? She did her bit like, and she'd always sort me out for a couple of
hits. Not that I was into gear and that, like. Just every now and
then.
Anyway, she starts to work down at this bar. It's called The Top Cat or
something stupid like that, and before you know it, I think she's
loving it down there, getting stupid ideas, getting drunk, staying out
all night, then sleeping all day.
It started off all right like. I'd drop her off at the bar, pick her up
at two or something. I had to collect her, like. I couldn't let her
make her own way home at that hour. She was only seventeen, like, and
sometimes she'd have a right load of cash.
The first couple of nights I stayed at her sister's with the kid. But
then I thought to myself 'Bollocks. What's the point?' I was just
getting in the way and, the truth be told, her sister didn't like me
too much. So I started hanging out on the corner of the little alley
down by the strip of bars. Right laugh it was, too. There was a mob of
us, like. We'd have a drop of something to drink; maybe piss off round
the back and whack up some gear. We'd sit around shooting the breeze
and watching the tarts. Some of them weren't bad either, and sometimes
you could pull. Funny thing it was. You're down the strip watching all
these fancy ass foreigners who are laying all their dollars and deniros
on the table for a quick whiff of it like, and you're getting it for
nothing. In fact more often than not, you'd make on it. You'd tell them
you're a bit short on the old ready cash and they would sling you a
purple. It's like they'd want to pay you. I tell you what - they had
more money than sense, some of them, they did.
Anyway, so my girl's working in this bar and making a packet; I've got
loads of time to kill and I need money, don't I? What's she going to do
with all that money she's making? The baby's looking fat. She's bought
her folks a TV and a fridge and that. Leave the money with her and
she'll just play cards or play the numbers. Or she'll buy more clothes
or more cuddly toys or who knows what, the dumb cow. So I take the
money off her, don't I. I've got to go out, haven't I? And if we go out
to a caf? or a club or whatever. You've got to give the girls
something, haven't you, or they'll look at you like you're some
big-time loser - I like to flash the money about anyway, don't I?
Anyway, at first she's sweet like, but then she starts getting lippy
about giving me the cash and that. She says it's hers. She says she's
the one who earns it. She says I just sit around wasting her cash while
she has some drunken slob who smells like dirt blow smoke in her face
and drool down her neck. And I know she's going to into one and I
reckon she isn't going to stop, so I slap her one. She can keep the
money tonight. I've got a couple of pinkies anyway, so I leave her
there on the deck and piss off down to Sutisan with some mates. The
next day and a few days after that we're getting on all right. She's
not giving me her bit and I'm chilling, but I know she's holding back
on me. Sometimes she's out all night, comes back, and gives me a couple
of hundred like I'm supposed to be chuffed with that or something. You
tell me, what can I do with a couple of hundred?
On top of this, her sister's on the case. She's calling me a dog and a
pig and who know what else. She says we don't look after the kid right.
What do you want? The bird's at work and what can I do? Next thing you
know, she wants us out. She says we're shaming her. I tell you what,
you ought to take a look at this one, and she says we're shaming her!
She says she's keeping the kid so I say I'll be back for it when it can
earn a crust. The bird's in tears, the silly prat. I think to myself
I'll take off for a couple of days and come back when things have
calmed down, and that's what I do.
When I do come back things have definitely calmed down. The
girlfriend's sister gives me a bag, says this is your stuff. Says the
girlfriend's not there. Says she don't know where she is. Tells me not
to come back. That's it.
So tell me, what am I supposed to do? I've had girls get away from me
before and I don't like it. I've got nowhere to go and zero income. I
hang around outside the sister's for a bit - check out who's coming and
going. Then I go down to a mate's place to see if he can lend me
something. He does. Then it's down to the bar. First I check out what's
going with my men. I get this hit of speed. I'm not normally into that
like, but I think tonight's going to be a big one and I could use the
feeling. It's good stuff and I'm about ten feet tall. I go and look in
the bar. There she is, sitting on some fat bloke's lap, purring and
smiling as if she's with some film star. It makes me feel sick that
she's gone so low. I walk in and sit down across from her and she makes
out like she don't see me but I know she does. She's lost her dopey
grin and gone sort of tense. Before I've got myself too comfortable
like, the bloke from behind the bar's over. He tells me to remove
myself from the arena as it were, and I oblige.
So I go and wait up the road a bit. I'm really pumping from the speed
now. Everything's buzzing. I kill a beer and smoke a ton of cigarettes.
And I'm waiting.

She's coming up the street now and I know it's going to happen. She
sees me but she doesn't come over. She walks straight past. I call her
but she doesn't stop. I'm on my feet now. She's running and I'm after
her. She's trying to get in a cab fast. I grab the door and push her
in. Out comes the gun. She can see it good and clear and she's
freaking. I give the gun two quick squeezes and then drop it. I can
smell this acrid burning and watch as her shirt changes to red. She is
mumbling and gasping. Everything seems bright and crisp and clear. And
then there are people all over me, grabbing me and kicking me. Next
thing I know, I'm cuffed up and taken down to the station. That's where
I am now. The police, they're all right they are, say she should make
it. I hope she does. It'll mean a lot less time inside for me, won't
it.