THE JIMMYS Alfi Spar was doomed. The Digit has seen many a WhyPee in a dreadful state. I’ve seen acts of violence and destruction, the head-buttering of Carers, the smashing of fists, the slashing of wrists, rainbows of bruises and overdoses of booze. Life is hard. I walked away from Alfi that afternoon knowing that the boy didn’t have the strength in him to survive what was hanging round his next corner. The Digit kept his nose to the ground. Sniffed what was afoot and heard the furtives. That night was going to be another party night. The Jimmys. Alfi Spar was perfect fodder for them – without family, friends or respectabilities. Their big party was going to freak him out, sure enough, and then they’d put him down. Right down. The Digit was outta there anyway, but Alfi had to get himself out of Tenderness House too, or he was going to end up such a damage case that he’d never be allowed back on the outside. The Digit knew, because Byron himself hadn’t been in much of a better state.
