Lawless Britain

Maddox swirled his finger around and around the button inset into the brown leather sofa’s armrest. Just how many of these buttons were embedded? The sides and back were riddled with little pockets. What was the point? They didn’t seem to improve the comfort, and they certainly didn’t look good. So why bother? What a waste of time and effort.

“Stop it,” said his Dad from across the room in his Welsh accent. Maddox reluctantly set eyes on his very uncool Dad, who wore brown corduroy trousers and a brown and white checkered shirt. He sat in a single armchair which had the same button infestation. He’d been staring into space, constantly combing his thick dark brown hair into a perfect side-parting on top of his chubby round face. They were each minding their own business, so what was his problem?

“Stop what?”

“It’s homework time.”

“I can’t concentrate,” said Maddox, who thought back to what he’d heard on the radio when his Dad picked him up from school.

“You have your final GCSE exams in six weeks. You need to knuckle down if you want to achieve those A grades.”

“Maybe the exams will be cancelled.”

“There is nothing in any of this. It’s just propaganda and political posturing.”

Maddox stared at the TV aerial socket through the green leaves of an unwieldy plant which sat where the box ought to be. “Can we put the radio on to check?”

“No.”

Maddox clenched his right fist so tightly his nails almost punctured his palm, while his left hand pulled a clump of his brown hair until the follicles were on the verge of uprooting. The pain intensified, but he didn’t give a f**k, so he bit his lip for an added buzz.

Maddox released his fingers and teeth and dropped his right elbow onto the side of the sofa to prop his head up. What was the big deal anyway? So there wouldn’t be any Acts of Parliament, what’d that change? Less bureaucracy probably, a definite positive with A level application forms on the horizon. Hang on, if all legislation was gone, there’d be nothing to abide by. Did that mean… no laws?

His mind raced at the possibilities. He could ditch his exams! In-fact, he wouldn’t bother going back to school at all. There must be something more exciting though. Surely as a sixteen-year-old in the midst of his supposedly most rebellious years he should be able to reel off all manner of outrageous stuff. But no, playing truant was the best he could think of, and half the kids were already doing that. He guessed that’s why they called him ‘Posh,’ something he definitely was not, but which conveyed his difference from them. And a good job too, they were degenerates.

Maddox heard the front door swing open and waited for Tegan to walk in with Gwen crying. She was always grouchy after her long day at preschool. But the door slammed shut without so much as a murmur. “Hello?” Trystan hollered in the hall. Worse, Maddox’s heart sank.

His Dad didn’t move a muscle, so Maddox replied, “In here.”

Trystan ran into the room and stopped still when he saw them sat quietly. “What are you doing?

Haven’t you heard?”

“There is nothing in any of this. It’s just propaganda and political posturing,” said Maddox’s Dad.

“Bullshit,” Trystan replied to his step-Dad as he pulled off his black leather jacket, stripping down to his tight white t-shirt. Seeing Trystan in his stylish West Way gear always made Maddox self-conscious and he felt very uncomfortable in his bright blue tracksuit and thick white sports socks. Trystan crouched down to the wooden cupboard housing the battered old radio cassette hi-fi system and yanked it open.

“Don’t put that on,” said his Dad.

“Vaughan, we have to listen.” Trystan switched on the radio and the bulky speakers crackled. Maddox leaned forward, desperate to know what was going on and for once pleased Trystan had come home. Trystan spun the dial, passing by the stations still pumping out pop tunes amid the biggest crisis to ever face the UK.

The large shadow of his Dad rising from his seat drew Maddox’s attention from the hi-fi’s antiquated display. At well over six feet and with broad shoulders, he towered over Trystan, who was too preoccupied searching the airwaves to notice. His Dad stepped forward until his feet almost touched Trystan as he stood intimidatingly close. He didn’t necessarily have any malicious intent, he just had a habit of invading people's personal space. However, he wasn’t himself today and Maddox prayed for him to lose it and dent Trystan’s good looking baby-face or ruffle his gelled spiky blond hair. “I told you, don’t put that on.”

Trystan stood to confront his step-Dad, leaving static playing on the radio. Trystan was stocky and strong, but short, and the two looked a mismatch. “Have you had a bad day or what?”

“I’m not answering to you. Turn it off.”

“What’s wrong with you two? I want to know what’s going on. I came home to tell you. I wish I hadn’t bothered.”

“Turn it off.”

“Forget it, I’m going to the pub.” Trystan stormed out of the room clutching his leather jacket.

“Don’t you leave this house, Trystan.”

After a moment, Trystan stepped back into the room. “Since when-”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m 18, I can do what I want. I’m not Maddox, you won’t tell me what to do.”

“I can and I will. Your Mother and I pay the mortgage, pay the bills, buy your food, buy your clothes. If you want to take some responsibility and get a job to contribute instead of clowning around, then, and only then, can you do what you want. For now, you’ll do what I tell you. And I’m telling you, you’re not going out.” Trystan’s jaw visibly dropped and Maddox felt his gape open too. His Dad never spoke this way to anyone, he was usually the opposite and overly submissive. Once the surprise sank in, Maddox felt split in allegiance; he agreed with Trystan and was anxious to get an update on the news, but enjoyed seeing his Dad make Trystan feel small and powerless.

Without waiting for Trystan to agree, his Dad sat back down and stared into space again. Trystan remained stationary, not daring to make eye contact with Maddox, who refrained from grinning for fear of later reprisals. Trystan threw his leather jacket over the side of the sofa and thundered up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” asked Maddox’s Dad.

“Toilet.”

Despite Maddox’s temporary satisfaction, he realised he would have preferred Trystan to win out, not his oppressive Dad.

Maddox stuffed his right hand up his left sleeve and pinched his arm until tears filled his eyes. He finally thought of something he would do if all laws were gone: smash whatever he could get his hands on. He then remembered Seren. Maybe he wouldn’t need to just watch her from afar anymore. He could tell her how he felt about her. Initiating contact wouldn’t be easy though; beyond his social ineptness with girls, the sixth formers had little to do with those in the year below and she didn’t even know he existed. Yet.

“Where is he?”

“What?” asked Maddox, returning from his daydream.

“Where’s Trystan?”

‘How would I know? I’ve been sat here with you!’ thought Maddox. “I’m not sure.”

“Go and check.”

What a waste of time. Maddox’s slight body slumped off the sofa and he fell onto his knees. Feeling his Dad’s eyes burning holes through him, he pushed himself up and wandered into the hall. Actually, leaving the room he’d been imprisoned in felt liberating and he therefore stopped short of calling Trystan and took the opportunity to go upstairs and draw out the day release. Maddox trudged up, using the dark wooden banister rail to haul himself forward. Head down, he stared at the boring beige carpet that ran throughout, everywhere except the kitchen which had a naff brick-effect lino. Who would put carpet in a bathroom? It must be soaked with piss. His Mum would never have done something so stupid. Maddox went around the bend at the top of the stairs and stopped on the landing. All the bedroom doors were open, with just the bathroom shut. Great, he was probably about to disturb Trystan’s dump. He’d get it in the neck for that. Maddox shuffled forward, now staring at the white woodchip wallpaper that lined every wall. Tegan’s taste was bland, bland, bland.

Maddox stopped a few feet from the white panelled bathroom door. “Trystan?”

“Yeah?”

What could he say now? ‘Good s**t?’ He was about to say something about his Dad sending him up, when he heard a faint female voice inside the bathroom. The thought of Trystan shagging some girl instantly aroused him. It didn’t take much, he was still a virgin and spent most of his non-studying time obsessing over sex. “Who’s in there?”

The door unlocked and opened ajar to reveal a sliver of Trystan’s face. “Shush,” he whispered with his finger held up to his pursed lips. The door widened a tad more and Trystan beckoned him in. Maddox looked behind him and then over the banister to check his Dad wasn’t coming or listening. “Last chance, you want to know what’s going on or what?”

Maddox felt a rush of exhilaration and crept forward into the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind him. Trystan shuffled along the side of the bath, providing space for Maddox to sit next to him. They both stared at the phone Trystan held in his hand. “You got a mobile?” asked Maddox.

Trystan smiled and patted Maddox on the back, triggering a warm glow in his stomach. He always revelled in the moments Trystan was nice to him, knowing from experience the state of friendship would be short-lived.

“I see why she got pregnant,” said Trystan, pointing at the big-bellied woman whose tight purple dress accentuated her sexy curves and giant jugs. Even her fat bump couldn’t prevent Maddox getting another boner.

The hottie conversed with someone off camera and then said into the lens, “I’ve been informed that the Prime Minister will be commenting on today’s events shortly.”

“This is it,” said Trystan.

“What’s he gonna say?” asked Maddox.

“How would I know?” scorned Trystan.

Footage of the burning budget box replaced the sex bomb. “This all looks real to me,” said Maddox, moving quickly on before Trystan fully reverted to type.

“It is real.”

“Wonder why my Dad says it’s not.”

“Because he’s out of a job.”

“What do you mean?”

“No laws, no Coppers.”

The excitement drained from Maddox. His Dad and Tegan complained of money problems already. If he lost his job, could they afford the house? He didn’t like the thought of being homeless during a time of anarchy.

The bathroom door suddenly swung open and smashed into Maddox’s foot. “Ouch!”

“What is that?” his Dad shouted at Trystan.

“Why didn’t you lock the door, dick head?” Trystan snarled at Maddox.

His Dad lunged forward, leaning over Maddox to snatch the phone out of Trystan’s grasp.

“Give that back!” yelled Trystan, who barged past Maddox and chased after his Dad down the landing.

“You thought you could keep this from me!” shouted his Dad. “Where did you get the money?”

“My Mum.”

His Dad swivelled around at the top of the stairs. “You stole it from her?”

“No, she gave it to me,” said Trystan calmly, his usual smirk returning to his face.

“And what did you tell her it was for?”

“A mobile phone.”

“She wouldn’t-”

“Ask her.”

“I will.” His Dad proceeded down the stairs, wiping the smile off Trystan’s face. Maddox moved forward and joined Trystan at the top of the stairs.

“Vaughan, the Prime Minister’s about to speak,” said Trystan.

“I’ll hear no more of this nonsense. I’m taking this for your benefit, to protect you from the lies-”

“We don’t want protecting, we want to watch it,” said Maddox without thinking. His Dad stopped at the bottom and glared up at his son. Maddox swallowed, having just spoken back for the first time since he was a toddler probably. Trystan nodded approvingly though, which made the tirade to come almost worth it.

His Dad switched his glare to Trystan. “Your influence is rubbing off on him.”

“Good, he needs to man up. One big sissy in the house is enough.”

His Dad lifted the phone above his head.

Trystan sniggered. “You don’t have the balls.”

His Dad hurled the phone against the wall and the screen shattered. Maddox and Trystan flinched at the impact as glass fragments flew in every direction. When the noise subsided, leaving only the sound of hiss from the lounge hi-fi, his Dad and Trystan stared each other out. Maddox looked back and forth between them, uncertain what would happen next or if he should say something.

“The moment of truth has arrived,” said an unknown man’s muffled voice.

“What’s that?” asked his Dad, glancing around.

“The phone,” said Maddox. The screen was blank, but the speaker was apparently more durable. His Dad raised his foot to finish the job.

“We’re going back to Parliament right now, where Vincent Knight is ready to address the nation.”

His Dad hesitated and then slowly set his foot down to the side of the phone. He picked up the mobile, brushed off the tiny pieces of loose glass with his bare fingers and held it close to his face. Maddox and Trystan almost fell over each other as they bound down the stairs to listen more closely.

“Please, quieten down. I would like to make a statement.” The Prime Minister spoke in a grave yet confident tone.

“Here we go,” said Maddox.

“Shut up,” said Trystan.

The Prime Minister cleared his throat and papers could be heard rustling. “I’ll get right to the point. It is untrue that all legislation has been rescinded.”

“Oh thank God,” said his Dad, who relaxed his tensed shoulders.

Oddly, Maddox felt a tinge of disappointment. Did he really want the laws to be abolished?

“So, my phone’s broke for nothing,” complained Trystan.

Maddox’s Dad smiled and said, “I told y-”

“However…” The Prime Minister wasn’t done!

The three of them looked at one another briefly before huddling in closer to the smashed phone.

They waited impatiently as the Prime Minister paused for ages.

“All laws are suspended.”

“F*****g hell,” said Trystan.

“Jesus,” whispered his Dad.

Maddox’s heart jumped for joy.

The response at the scene was raucous.

“Calm down, I haven’t finished!” The Prime Minister’s voice was so edgy, the toff wasn’t exactly doing a great job of allaying anyone’s fears! “This is a temporary condition, until the underlying issues are resolved. Believe me, this decision was not taken lightly, we have exhausted every possible alternative. I can therefore say with confidence that this action is wholly and unequivocally necessary at this juncture. So, please accept it, and embrace lawless Britain.”