The call came through just before the shop opened. Kev, it’s Alfie. He’s sick. It’s his breathing.
Something isn’t right. Please, as quick as you can. I held him, telling him I was right there, while Abby got the emergency services on the line. An ambulance, please.
My boy could barely catch his breath, his little chest heaving. Everyone rallied. Tim drove us to the hospital, and the doctors started running tests. It was a scary few hours, watching him lying there, hooked up to monitors, fighting for every breath.
Meanwhile, life went on around us, as it always does. There were the usual conversations back on the street, complaints about the cold, banter about a proper full TV package, and Tim caught up in his own drama, trying to smooth things over after some past trouble. Someone was even trying to propose, eager to prove their love in front of everyone. But my focus was on Alfie, and the more I looked at that wall where his bed was, the more a cold knot tightened in my stomach.
I got back to the flat and pulled back the skirting. There it was, black and creeping, the source of all this. The rot. The mold that had been poisoning my son.
I confronted the landlord. He just called it bad luck, tried to blame the previous owner. But he didn’t care. He only worried about his precious reputation, threatening me when I pushed back.
Imagine if it were your sisters in hospital, I told him. Back at the hospital, the doctor came in with the results. The blood tests indicated a connection between the mold and Alfie’s breathing difficulties. My boy was sick because of that rot.
Fungal spores. He had to see a specialist. He should be made to answer for this, Tim said. And believe me, he will.
But right now my priority is Alfie. With him stable and finally sleeping, I had to go back out. Not for a shower. I had some unfinished business with that landlord.
But I didn’t get far before Sam stopped me, his face pale. He’d seen something. Brody, the young lad everyone was trying to help, he was with Idris, and they were strong-arming some poor bloke, shoving him in the back of a car. Not gofering at all.
Sam was terrified. So, with Alfie in the hospital and a new threat closing in on the street, everything started to unravel. There was more to this landlord than just a moldy flat, and more to Brody than anyone knew.
And I knew I had to get to the bottom of it all, before anyone else got hurt.
