Pud, Sox and Co

Pud, Sox and Mellor were living on the edge. They considered themselves the inner circle, if you like, of the gang, yet something was wrong; all of them had received death threats. Living in the city had never been easy. Gang culture was all they had ever known, but now things were turning really nasty. They didn't feel safe anymore.
"They are talking of knives, Sox."
"I know, I think we should carry them," said Pud.
Mellor disagreed. Someone had died in the precinct last week. It was all over the newspapers.

Mellor's girlfriend was Talulah. She was pretty, dark-haired, half gipsy. Often she'd accompany them in the park when they had a drinking session or she'd ride pillion when Mellors was on his bike. Sometimes she was jealous of the time Mellors spent with his mates, but Mellor said the gang was important to him, it was important to all his friends, lads from his part of town.

Pud and Sox didn't have girlfriends for the minute. They knew a lot of girls however, a lot of them friends of Talulah.

Saturday night came. It was cold; a bit icy even for March. The night was dark; only one star shone brightly in the black sky. Pud and Sox were by the cricket pavilion, the rest of the gang on the bank near the entrance to the park. Mellor had thought for a while now, that they didn't always include him. They were supposed to be mates. Pud and Sox had now disappeared from view. Pud with his gold earring and Sox with his closely-cropped head could always turn heads. Mellor knew this; he wondered if they thought they were too good for him. He'd go search them out, bring them onto the bank with the rest of the gang.

Mellor walked quickly across the park, skirting the bowling green. He approached the cricket pavilion. He could hear two guys laughing. He stopped in his tracks at the corner of the building. He could just see the two of them full on from this vantage point. Sox had no shirt on and Pud was all over him. They were kissing. If Mellor did not understand anything, it was this. How could his mates do this? He was going to get them. He was going to teach them a lesson.

Talulah's friend was Tamsin; they lived in each other's pockets. They sat patiently on the grassy bank waiting for Mellor to return. Mellor was angry inside; he wanted to get rid of those bastards. No one took him in. He'd disagreed about carrying knives but really he'd had one on him all the time. Mellor was like that. He never told the truth. Before the night was over he would use it, and it wouldn't be on the rival gang it would be on his own. It would scare them, show them up as cowards.

Mellor arrived back to find Talulah drinking a bottle of cider with her blouse unbuttoned. "Cover yourself up," he shouted. Talulah giggled, but started to button her blouse.
He would wait till the end of the night, then confront his two 'mates'.

"We've found a body." Talulah was on her mobile to the local police station. The park was empty now, apart from the gang of about twelve guys and gals. Talulah and Tamsin seemed to have a secret understanding. Pud and Sox looked satisfied too.

He never got the chance to use his knife. Mellor's lifeless body lay cold and alone in some desolate, God-forsaken lane. The wind was getting up. It was icy, like death. Cold hearts left the park, their crime simply part of what they had become.