‘You managed to escape then?’
‘Oh, don’t talk to me about it, Marge.’
Margaret laughed her billy goat laugh.
‘You’d better check in your bag. It might be bugged.’
‘Don’t even joke about it, Marge, I wouldn’t put it past them.’
They began to walk to the bus stop.
‘What’s Dennis’s mate like?’
‘Well, he’s tall and very good-looking. He’s twenty-four years old.’
‘What job’s he got?’
Margaret shook her head. ‘Dunno. Dennis did tell me but we was too busy . . . well, you know.’
‘No, I don’t know. And you know that. Come on, Marge, tell me. What’s it like?’
Margaret pursed her bright orange lips. ‘What?’ Her voice was innocent.
‘You know very well, Marge. A bit of the other?’
‘Maura Ryan! I am not discussing my sex life at a bus stop!’
Maura burst out laughing. ‘Why not? It’s never stopped you before!’
Both girls laughed and pushed each other in the chest.
‘Come on, tell me.’ Maura’s face straightened and she looked earnestly at her little friend.
‘Well, I’ve only done it a couple of times as you know. But . . . I like it. It’s nice, but a bit embarrassing. Dennis said that I’ll get over that. In fact, he says I’m a natural!’ The last piece of information was given with a toss of her head.
‘Oh, hark at the Duchess of Duke Street.’ They both laughed again. The bus pulled up and they jumped on it, going upstairs so they could smoke.
‘Two to Holborn, please.’ As they lit their cigarettes Maura felt the familiar annoyance wash over her. This was another bugbear. Her brothers all smoked yet when Mickey had seen his sister smoking he had snatched the cigarette from her hand, grinding it out with his heel, shouting at her that only slags smoked. He had done it in the street in front of everyone. She had thought that she was going to die of shame. Now she could only smoke when well away from them.
They got off the bus at Holborn and got a train to Mile End, from there taking another train to Ilford. They were in Tiffany’s at nine forty-five. If they got in before ten it cost only a pound. They went straight to the toilets and repaired their makeup and hair. As they came out of the toilet and into the bar Maura’s heart stood still in her chest. Standing beside Dennis was the best-looking man she had ever seen in her life. She looked at Margaret with a question in her eyes and when she nodded felt a burst of happiness like she had never felt before.
‘Hello, darling.’ Dennis kissed Margaret on her cheek. ‘Maura, this is me mate Terry. Terry, this is Maura.’
She shook the stranger’s hand timidly. Terry Petherick was well over six foot. It seemed strange to Maura to look up at someone. He had dark blond hair yet his eyes were a light brown. Maura was besotted after one smile.
‘Would you like a drink?’ His voice was deep and it sent her pulses racing.
‘Please.’ Her throat was dry with nerves. ‘I’ll have a scotch and dry.’
She was surprised at her answer. What on earth had made her say that? She drank half of bitter normally, but somehow she couldn’t say that to him. He would think her terribly unsophisticated.
‘Ice?’
She nodded at him. As he took Margaret and Dennis’s orders she watched him. When he went to the bar she whispered into Margaret’s ear, ‘He’s gorgeous!’
At the bar Terry Petherick was thinking about Maura. He had been surprised at how big she was, but she was absolutely fantastic. She was incredibly sexy and didn’t even realise it! As she had walked towards him he had felt a physical pain in his guts. She was like one great big present, just waiting to be unwrapped. He paid for the drinks and took them back to the others.
Maura gulped at her drink. The music seemed very loud all of a sudden. They were playing a Beatles number. ‘Love Me Do’ seemed to be reverberating off the walls. Maura could see Terry’s lips moving but could not make out a word. She smiled and gestured that she couldn’t hear him. He laughed, showing perfect white teeth, and putting his mouth to her ear, he shouted: ‘Another drink?’
She looked at her glass and was amazed to find it was empty! She smiled and nodded.
When he brought her back another drink he moved close to her trying to have a conversation. ‘Do you come here often?’
‘No. Only in the mating season.’
The record ended just as she spoke and her voice caused people to stare at them. Terry’s eyebrows went up and she felt herself blushing furiously. Why had she said that? It was a silly saying of Margaret’s. Now he would think she was a tart. She could have kicked herself. She concentrated on her drink to hide her embarrassment, deciding that whisky was all right. Just like drinking ginger beer really. She noticed that it was getting very hot all of a sudden.
Terry grinned at her ruefully. ‘Another?’
She was aware of the disbelief in his voice even above the din. He bought her another drink and she sipped it. A slow dance came on. Putting her glass on the bar, she went on to the dance floor with him. As it was quieter now, he began to talk to her.
‘I thought I’d better dance with you in case you wanted another drink.’ His voice was jocular.
‘I don’t drink shorts very often.’
‘I thought so. Are you nervous or something?’
‘Yes . . . Yes, I am.’
He smiled a funny little lopsided grin and pulled her closer. She could feel his heartbeat against her breast and it gave her a feeling of longing she had never experienced before. She closed her eyes.
‘What do you do for a living?’ he asked.
‘I work with Marge. We’re typists for a firm of accountants in Charing Cross.’
‘That’s right. I remember Dennis telling me now. I’m a policeman.’
He felt the change in her.
‘You’re a what!’ Her voice sounded shocked.
‘I said, I’m a policeman. What’s wrong with that?’ He was puzzled. Maura could hear it in his tone.
‘Nothing! It’s just that I’ve never met a policeman before.’ God forgive me for lying, she thought.
He relaxed. ‘Well, don’t worry. I’m not on duty so I won’t arrest you. Not tonight anyway.’
She tried to smile at him. Bobby Darin was crooning ‘Dream Lover’ and Maura stepped back into Terry’s arms. They finished the dance in silence. When they went back to Dennis and Margaret, Maura picked up her drink and slugged it straight back. She signalled to Margaret and both girls went into the toilets.
As soon as they were in there Maura said: ‘He’s only an old Bill.’
‘He ain’t!’ Margaret was stunned.
‘Oh yes he is, Marge. What am I gonna do?’
Margaret put her finger to her bottom lip. Her tiny heart-shaped face was screwed up as she thought the problem over. She looked up at Maura.
‘Do you like him, Maws?’
‘Oh, yes, Marge. But a filth . . . Jesus!’ Maura was nearly in tears.
‘Then it’s simple. Just don’t tell him about your brothers.’
‘Do you honestly think I could get away with it?’
Margaret grinned. ‘It’s a doddle!’ Her green eyes widened as she thought of a plan. ‘Look, Dennis obviously ain’t said nothing to him about your family and I’ll put him wise. He don’t see that much of Terry anyway. You just carry on as if nothing’s happened. Let’s face it, your brothers are more well known on their own turf than around this way. Anyway, you’re not responsible for them, are you?’
‘No, Marge . . . I know that. But I would feel a bit snidey pretending that I don’t know them.’
Margaret rolled her eyes at the ceiling. ‘Look, pea brain, you’re not denying them . . . you’re just not mentioning them. There’s a difference. Like in confession when I tell Father McCormack that I have sinned in a personal manner - I don’t tell him I’m having it off, do I? It’s just a matter of not lettin
g on, that’s all.’
Maura still wasn’t convinced.
Margaret sighed. ‘Well, it’s up to you, Maws. But I think he’s lovely, and you can tell a mile off that he likes you. Now let’s get back to them before they send a search party out looking for us.’
Later in the evening Maura was sitting in a small Chinese restaurant with Terry. What Margaret had said earlier had been going through her mind over and over again. She tried to reason with herself. Just because he was a policeman didn’t mean she couldn’t go out with him, surely? She shook her head to clear it. It was all the whisky she’d had. She was drunk.
‘Do you come from a large family, Maura?’
‘Oh, the usual, Terry. A few brothers, that’s all. How about you?’
‘There’s only me now. I had a brother but he died.’
Maura’s heart went out to him.
‘Oh . . . I’m sorry. One of my brothers died. I know how you must feel.’
‘We lost Joey to cancer when he was twelve. I was sixteen at the time. Funny, though, I still miss him. How did you . . .?’
Maura looked at the tablecloth.
‘He got run over. I was only a kid. I don’t really remember it.’ Another lie, she thought. Not a day went by but she saw Anthony’s face, and superimposed on it the face of Stavros, smirking slightly as he had been in the cemetery.
No one in her family had been the same since Anthony’s funeral. Her mother and father had aged dramatically overnight. Michael and the boys had become harder, more violent somehow. As for herself, she just missed him. Sometimes in the middle of a celebration, Christmas or Easter, she would think of him and the knowledge of how he had been murdered would cast a shadow over everything.
The food arrived. As they served themselves from the many little dishes, Maura surveyed her companion. She could really get to like Terry and the thought frightened her. She was going to murder Margaret tomorrow, going off with Dennis and leaving them like that. Now he had to take her home whether he wanted to or not.
‘Eat up, Maura.’ She smiled at him and brightened up. He wouldn’t have asked her out for a meal if he didn’t like her, she reasoned.
‘Sorry. I was miles away.’
‘Maura?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can I see you again? I don’t think I’ve enjoyed myself so much with a girl for ages.’
He smiled at her with that lopsided grin and she was undone. Her whole body seemed to tingle with expectation. He liked her!
‘Of course you can. Whenever you want!’ She popped a prawn ball into her mouth and bit on it, showering him with sweet and sour sauce.
‘Oh, I’m sorry!’ She leant across the table to wipe his face with her napkin and knocked his glass of wine into his lap. Mortified at what she had done she leapt out of her seat and collided with a waiter, sending the plate of egg fried rice he was carrying flying through the air. She stood in the restaurant with her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes. Terry burst out laughing, causing all the people in the restaurant to take their eyes off Maura and begin staring at him. He laughed so hard that he had a fit of coughing which, in turn, caused big tears to roll down his face. He stood up and, throwing a handful of money on the table for the bill, led a scarlet-faced and humiliated Maura out of the restaurant and into the night air.
‘Now can I trust you with my car? You won’t knock my wheels off or pull my radio to pieces?’ Although it was said in a jocular fashion it was too much for Maura. The whisky, the heat, the Chinese food, the humiliation, and finally the cold night air all took their toll. She threw up in the gutter.
Terry rubbed her back as she heaved. When she had finished she leant against his car, gulping in the cold air. Her forehead had small beads of sweat on it that glistened in the lamp light. Her mascara was smudged under her eyes. One of her eyelashes had come unstuck. Gently he pulled it from her eyelid. Giving her his hanky, he went back to the restaurant and came back with a glass of iced water.
She stood there dejectedly looking at him, convinced that he would never want to lay eyes on her again. She looked at the red wine stain on his trousers and felt tears prickling her eyes. She frantically blinked them away.
‘Feeling better now?’ His voice was gentle. He handed her the glass of water. ‘Drink this down and you’ll feel much better, I promise you.’
She shook her head.
‘Come on, drink it.’ The authority in his voice surprised her and she took the glass and drank the water. The coolness eased her throat which was burning. She handed the glass back to him and he returned it to the restaurant. She breathed deeply, trying to settle her nerves.
He came back and unlocked the car, helping her into the passenger seat. As he pulled away from the kerb, he said, ‘I think you drank too much.’
‘It was the whisky. I’ve never drunk it before. Normally I drink a half of bitter.’
She looked at his profile. He looked solid, not just physically but mentally, with an air about him that denoted an inner strength. He smiled.
‘Well, if it’s any consolation, it happens to us all! I can remember the first time I got drunk on Scotch. I threw up all over my mum’s slippers! Never touched the bloody stuff since, so you’re in good company.’ He poked himself in the chest. ‘I can’t take my drink either.’
He felt in his jacket pocket and brought out a pack of Juicy Fruits. ‘Have one of these. It will freshen your mouth up.’
She took one gratefully.
‘Where do you want dropping off? I know you live in Notting Hill.’
‘Do you know the Bramley Arms?’ He nodded. ‘Well, there will do. I live nearby.’
‘I’ll take you right to your door.’
‘No . . . That’s all right. It’s my dad. You know.’
He glanced at her and grinned. ‘I get it. You’re supposed to be coming home with Margaret.’
‘That’s it. He’s a bit old fashioned.’
They chatted on until they came to the Bramley Arms. The water and the Juicy Fruit seemed to have done the trick because she felt great. And better still, the big hunk of man beside her made her feel terrific. He stopped the car and turned to face her.
‘When will I see you then?’
‘Whenever you like.’
He smiled at her eagerness. ‘Let’s see.’ He put his head to one side as if he was thinking, closing one eye and giving his little grin. ‘Tomorrow’s Sunday. How about Monday night? I’ll pick you up here at about seven-thirty. Is that all right?’
She nodded and he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, then waved his finger in her face and said: ‘And no drinking whisky!’
She grinned and got out of the car.
‘See you, Maura.’
‘’Bye.’ She watched the car pull away. He wanted to see her again! She felt as if she could float up into the starry night. It was two in the morning and she walked the short distance to her home as if on a cushion of air. He wanted to see her again! She couldn’t believe her luck!
She had a little nagging worry in the back of her mind about Mickey, but pushed it impatiently away. As Margaret had said, what people didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. Anyway, Mickey and the boys weren’t really bad. They were just tearaways.
As she pushed the key into the lock of the front door she heard a row going on. She walked into the kitchen just in time to see Benny punch Garry in the face. She ran and stood between them.
‘What on earth’s going on?’
‘Get out me way, Maws. I’m gonna kill that little runt.’
‘Calm down, Benny. What’s he done?’
‘Calm down? You dozy cow! He’s poached my fucking bird, that’s what he’s done. The no good dirty ponce!’
Garry pushed Maura out of the way and faced his brother. ‘She ain’t your bird. She can’t stand you, she told me that herself.’
With that Benny launched himself at Garry. As they fought, their mother and father came into the room, followed by Leslie and Lee who s
eparated their brothers.
‘What the hell’s all this row abaht?’ Benjamin’s voice was slurred as usual. He was still half drunk.
‘That wanker’s poached me bird, that’s what.’
‘For the last time, Benny, she ain’t your bird.’
Leslie threw Garry across the kitchen where he fell against the fireplace. He pulled himself up slowly. Leslie pointed at him.
‘What’s her name?’
‘Mandy Watkins.’
Leslie and Lee looked at one another and burst out laughing. ‘Not Mandy Watkins from Bletchedon Street?’
Benny and Garry nodded warily. There was something going on here.
‘What’s she doing, Les, making a career out of the Ryans?’ Lee and Leslie began hooting with glee.
‘What do you mean?’ This from a sullen Benny.
‘Me and Lee’s had her, and Geoffrey. Me and Lee had her at the same time. She’s a dog.’
‘You’re lying, you . . .’ Garry went for Leslie who grabbed his arms and held him tightly, pushing his arms up behind his back expertly.
‘Ain’t we had her, Lee?’
He nodded, still smiling, then picked up a pack of cigarettes from the table and lit one.
‘I take oath that we’ve all had her. Christ almighty, she’s had more pricks than a second-hand dart board!’
‘That’s enough!’ Sarah’s voice echoed off the kitchen walls. ‘I won’t have this kind of talk. If you have no respect for me, your mother, at least have some for your sister.’
All the boys looked shamefaced.
Leslie spoke. ‘Sorry, Mum. We’re out of order.’
‘Who wants a cuppa?’ Maura tried to defuse the situation. The boys all nodded but Benjamin and Sarah went back to bed. Maura put the kettle on.
‘Have a good time, Sis?’
‘All right, Garry, I suppose.’
As she made the tea she thought about the way her brothers had talked about Mandy Watkins. She had known Mandy all her life. The papers might talk about the swinging sixties but the nearest most girls of Maura’s age got to it was in the clothes they wore. If her brothers even suspected that she had been with a boy, all hell would break loose. She put their tea on the table. Benny and Garry were bosom pals once again. Kissing all the boys, she made her way up to bed, taking her tea with her. Her last thought before she fell asleep was the reaction she would get if they knew that she had been out with a policeman. She didn’t care, though. She couldn’t wait until Monday!