‘Thank you. They’re lovely. No one ever gives me flowers.’ I kiss him on the cheek and he smiles. ‘I’ll try to find a vase.’ Don’t think I even possess one. I’ll have to go and borrow one from Mrs Kapur. Johnny was never much of a flower buyer – simply because he never had the money to spare for such fripperies.
Spencer’s eyes sweep round my flat and he’s probably trying to take in quite how skanky it is compared to his place. His face is an inscrutable mask. If he wants to wrinkle his nose then he’s making a good job of hiding it. ‘I’ve got a computer in the boot of the car for you too.’
Now I’m even more taken aback. ‘A computer?’
‘I promised I’d find you one. So you can improve your skills at home.’ He flicks a thumb towards the door. ‘Shall I go and get it?’
I nod and Spencer heads back to the front door and downstairs.
‘Charlie!’ I shout as soon as he’s gone. My son appears from the bathroom. ‘Aren’t you ready yet?’
‘Yeah,’ he says. Actually, he looks kind of cool. He’s wearing his best T-shirt and baggy jeans. His hair’s freshly washed and gelled into submission.
‘Good boy. I want you to go and borrow a vase for me from Mrs Kapur.’
‘What for?’
I throw a glance at my roses. ‘For these.’
Charlie scowls at them. ‘Are they from him?’
‘From Spencer,’ I supply. ‘Now scoot, he’ll be back in a minute.’
‘Why does he have to come?’
‘Because he’s new to the area and doesn’t know anyone.’ And I couldn’t think of a reason not to invite him and not have Debs murder me. ‘So be nice to him. And be on your best behaviour, otherwise you’ll be grounded for a month.’
‘Aw, Mum!’
I turn him round and slap him on the backside. ‘Vase. Run.’
He ambles to the front door and down the corridor. I find the scissors and, in the kitchen, start to snip the ends from the roses because I think that’s what you’re supposed to do. Minutes later, Charlie comes back and plonks a glass vase on the side. ‘Thanks, Son.’ I set about arranging them.
My child leans on the work surface and huffs pointedly.
‘I thought you were looking forward to tonight?’
‘I was,’ he says sullenly.
Then I hear Spencer come back and go into the lounge to see him struggling with the computer monitor. Ten flights is a long way to carry something so heavy. He’s puffing and panting.
‘Put it on the table. Here, here.’
He lowers the monitor gingerly and then straightens up, massaging his back.
‘Wow! Charlie,’ I yell. ‘Come and look at this!’
My son lopes into the living room, shoulders dropping, arms hanging at his sides like a baboon’s, a look of extreme discomfiture on his face.
‘Look what Spencer’s brought for us.’
‘Cool,’ he says, although he doesn’t sound like he thinks it’s cool at all.
Spencer holds out his hand and bends towards Charlie. ‘Hello, little man.’ He sounds like he’s about to recite a nursery rhyme.
Charlie looks at me to see if Spencer’s joking. I look at Spencer to see if he’s joking. He isn’t.
I nudge Charlie and, reluctantly, he shakes Spencer’s hand.
‘What a big boy you are,’ Spencer continues in his sing-song voice. ‘And how old are you?’
Charlie, incredulous, looks at me again. I glare at him. ‘Ten,’ he replies.
‘That’s lovely.’ Spencer straightens up and rubs his hands together as he glances at me. ‘So who’s going to babysit for Charlie tonight?’
‘He’s coming with us,’ I explain. Charlie now looks even more like he wishes he wasn’t. ‘It’s a family event.’
‘Oh,’ Spencer says. Looks like he hadn’t imagined that as part of the plan.
‘Charlie, go and get your jacket.’
‘I don’t need a jacket,’ Charlie says. ‘It’s hot.’
‘Go and get your jacket,’ I repeat in my don’t-mess-with-me voice.
Charlie stomps off to get a jacket that he doesn’t want and doesn’t actually need as it is hot.
I lower my voice. ‘You’re okay with Charlie coming along?’
‘Yes, yes,’ Spencer assures me.
‘My son’s my life.’
‘I understand that.’
‘Have you had much to do with children?’
‘Nothing at all,’ Spencer admits. ‘Does it show?’
I laugh, not unkindly. ‘Just a little.’
‘I’ll try harder,’ he says.
‘Just be yourself,’ I tell him. ‘I’m sure you’ll both get along fine. He’s a good kid.’
‘He seems delightful.’
Charlie is a lot of things, but I’m pretty certain that ‘delightful’ isn’t one of them.
‘I’ll pop down to the car and get the rest of the computer, shall I?’
‘This is very kind of you, Spencer. There’s no need to do this. I hope it’s not too expensive.’
‘My treat,’ he says. Then, before I can offer a protest, he comes to me and slips his arms round my waist. I stiffen slightly and hope that Charlie doesn’t come out of his room right now. He’s not used to seeing his mum canoodling with a strange man, and I bet he won’t like it. ‘I want to help you out, Sally. Will you let me do that?’
‘Yes,’ I say, because it seems the quickest way to untangle myself and because I can’t quite believe that someone like Spencer wants to look after me and care for me and buy me roses and computers.
‘I’ll go and get the rest of it.’ He strides towards the door. ‘Back in two ticks.’
I watch him go with his immaculate clothes and his handmade shoes and perfectly manicured hands, and I wonder what they’ll make of him down at Kirberly Community Centre.
Chapter Twenty-One
The scruffy hall of the Community Centre is packed with bodies and the lights are dimmed, so it doesn’t look too bad at first glance. Perky music with a salsa beat is already blaring out. I take a deep breath and slip my hand into Spencer’s as we walk in. Charlie immediately makes a break for it and bolts across the room to find Kyle. I hoped that he would hang around at least for a few minutes to get to know Spencer, but that’s probably the last I’ll see of him until home time.
Debs comes straight across to see me. Spencer’s eyes widen slightly as he takes in her silver sequins and her vertiginous second-hand hooker heels as worn once by a Supermodel. I’m suddenly hoping that I don’t look quite so tarty as that. ‘Hiya, Sal,’ she says, though her gaze never leaves Spencer’s face.
‘Hiya. This is Spencer.’
‘Pleased to meet you,’ he says, and holds out a hand for her to shake. ‘Spencer Knight.’
‘Debra “Dynamite” Newton.’ Debs winks salaciously at me as she holds onto his hand for a moment too long and I want to curl up and die. A man from the other side of the estate comes towards us, swaggering cockily.
‘You dancing?’ he asks Debs.
My friend smiles sweetly at him. ‘Women with arses like mine don’t dance with men with faces like yours.’
‘Piss off,’ he says as he walks away, swagger gone.
It’s no wonder that Debs struggles with long-term relationships.
‘I’ll get us a drink, shall I?’ Spencer asks.
‘I’ll have a vodka and Coke, please,’ I say.
‘Same for me,’ Debs pipes up, toasting the air with her half-empty glass. ‘A double.’
I die a bit more inside. Spencer smiles at me sympathetically and then heads to the bar. I hope he doesn’t get beaten up. Already, I’m wondering why on earth I brought him here. This is a close-knit community and Spencer has ‘outsider’ stamped all over him.
‘Way to go, girl,’ Debs gushes. ‘I’d like to see that knight out of his shining armour. He’s gorgeous.’
I shake my head. ‘He’s like a fish out of water.’
‘We’ll get a
few drinks down him, knock the corners off,’ she says. Which I assume is meant to reassure me. It doesn’t. My friend looks longingly after my date which, if I didn’t know her so well, would annoy me. ‘Thought he might bring a mate.’
‘I asked. He hasn’t got any friends.’
‘Huh,’ she snorts.
Yeah, let’s knock that double-dating idea on the head right away.
Debs inclines her head towards the dance floor. ‘Have you seen that?’
On the floor, an elderly couple from my flats – Tom and Winnie Hunt – are doing a beautiful waltz to the salsa beat. The fact that their steps aren’t co-ordinated to the music isn’t bothering them one jot. They sweep together happily in perfect rhythm with each other and that’s all that seems to matter to them.
‘Aw, bless,’ I say.
‘Not that, you idiot.’ She flicks a thumb towards the stage. ‘That!’
There’s only one other couple on the dance floor and the sight of them makes my mouth drop open.
‘Who does Johnny think he is?’ Debs wants to know. ‘Patrick frigging Swayze?’
If you ask me, Johnny’s doing a remarkable impersonation of Patrick frigging Swayze. In his arms is Bootle Bev – a brassy, bottle blonde with a big bosom – and he’s twirling her round in a expert fashion, in time to the music and everything. I’m stunned. He looks fantastic. At this time in the evening, Johnny would normally be propping up the bar and he’d stay like that until closing time, eking out a couple of pints. Perhaps that was the problem – he never drank enough to be a uninhibited dancer. He’d have to be seriously drunk and at a wedding, or something, before he’d even consider gracing the dance floor.
‘Blimey,’ I say. ‘Am I hallucinating?’
‘He must have been having lessons.’
‘Johnny?’ That one cracks me up. ‘No way.’
At that, the music stops and Johnny catches me watching him. I try to look as if I’m not. Bootle Bev totters off and my ex-boyfriend heads towards me.
‘Can I have the pleasure of this dance?’ he says to me.
‘Where did you learn to do that?’
Johnny shrugs and looks embarrassed. ‘Too many hours watching those dance shows on the telly. Some of it must have rubbed off. Are you going to risk a twirl with me?’
I glance towards the bar. ‘I’m here with Spencer,’ I say to him, even though it makes me want to shrivel up. Johnny’s face falls. ‘I’d better not.’ My date is still queuing three-deep at the bar. He’ll never get served unless he shoves in. It’s no good being polite here, every bugger will get in before you.
‘He’ll be ages yet,’ Johnny notes, clearly thinking exactly the same thing as me. ‘I’ll have you back in just a minute.’
The salsa beat picks up again. It’s tempting. Tom and Winnie could do with some company out on the floor. My foot starts an involuntary tap. It wouldn’t take long. Johnny flutters his eyelashes at me and I crack. ‘Okay then. Just one dance.’
I give my handbag to Debs and join Johnny on the dance floor. He holds me close to him and, I hate to admit this, but my heart sets up a salsa beat too. ‘I don’t know how to do this.’
He presses me closer. ‘Just follow me.’ Johnny leads my body through a series of twists and turns. It’s great fun and I start to laugh as the beat takes over and I relax against my old lover. For some silly reason, it feels good to be in Johnny’s arms again.
‘When did you become such a smoothie, Johnny Jones?’
‘I’ve always been a smooth mover.’
‘You have not!’ I giggle against his shoulder. ‘Why didn’t we do this when we were together?’
‘Because there was never a salsa night at the Community Centre.’
‘I had no idea that you could dance like this. Debs thought you’d been having lessons.’
I see a flush come to his cheeks. ‘No way!’
Hmm. I’m not so sure. Maybe the gentleman protesteth too much.
‘I thought we could have some fun tonight,’ he says near to my ear as he arches me into him. ‘I didn’t know you were coming with your new fella.’
‘It was a last-minute decision,’ I tell him truthfully. ‘I’m not sure it was a good idea.’
‘He looks a bit out of place.’
The music stops as Johnny twirls me away from him and I stand there awkwardly, breathing heavily. ‘I’d better get back to him. He doesn’t know anyone else.’
Johnny’s eyes are bright when they look into mine. ‘We were just getting warmed up.’
‘Dance with Debs. She’s gagging for it.’
‘As usual,’ Johnny remarks. He takes my arm and leads me back to where Spencer and Debs are standing together. While they’re still out of earshot, he says, ‘Maybe later?’
‘I’d better not,’ I answer, even though there’s nothing I’d like more than to have another spin with the new, masterful, twinkle-toed Johnny Jones. ‘That was a lot of fun.’
Spencer is standing holding my drink. He grins at me as Johnny and I approach. ‘That was superb. Well danced.’
‘Come on, Debs,’ Johnny says. ‘You’re on next.’ And the two of them head off together.
I wave my hand in front of my face as I swig my vodka, trying to cool down. ‘I’m hot.’
‘Looked like you enjoyed yourself.’
‘It was great,’ I enthuse. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’
‘No, no,’ he assures me. ‘And the guy?’
‘Oh, that’s Johnny,’ I say and feel my face fire up. ‘My old boyfriend. I’m sorry, I should have introduced you. Everyone round here knows him.’Which probably makes Spencer feel even more like an outsider. ‘You’ll like him. He’s like a dad to Charlie.’ Then I realise that it’s probably the wrong thing to say as well, so I blabber on, ‘We’re great mates now. That’s all.’
‘We all need friends,’ Spencer says.
The music starts again and I see Johnny take Debs in his arms, just like he held me moments ago. My feet start to tap of their own volition once more. Salsa dancing is a lot of fun. Now the dance floor’s filling up and I lose sight of Johnny and Debs and I get a sort of achy pang that I can’t quite identify. If I didn’t know better, I might put it down to jealousy. ‘I love dancing,’ I say to my date. ‘But I don’t get the chance to do it much these days.’
‘Maybe I can do something about that,’ Spencer says enigmatically.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Charlie and Kyle had sneaked out from the Community Centre, unnoticed.They huddled up next to the big dump bin round the back of the hall, trying to remain unnoticed.
‘It’s boring in there,’ Kyle said, dragging deeply on his cigarette and then passing it over to Charlie. ‘Why doesn’t anyone tell old people that they can’t dance?’
‘Johnny was doing okay,’ Charlie pointed out.
Kyle received that information with a derisive snort.
‘I was hoping that it might make my mum fall in love with him again.’
More snorting. Charlie passed the cigarette back to his friend. He didn’t think that he really liked smoking now that he’d tried it, but Kyle said it made them both look older. All Charlie thought it did was make him want to cough.
His friend nodded at the Community Centre. ‘Was that her new bloke?’
‘Yeah,’ Charlie said. ‘He’s a right prat. Drives a Porsche.’
Kyle’s eyes brightened. ‘Wow. A Porsche?’
‘Yeah, but he’s a tosser.’
‘My mum goes out with loads of tossers, but they don’t drive Porsches.’
Charlie shrugged at that logic. ‘I thought your mum was married to your stepdad.’
‘Yeah,’ Kyle said. ‘But that doesn’t mean that she can’t see other men.’
This was news to Charlie. He didn’t even like his mum seeing one new man, let alone more than one. And his mum wasn’t even married. ‘That’d be horrible.’
‘It’s the way things are now,’ Kyle informed him. ‘Being married no
w is like a part-time thing.’
‘Oh.’ Charlie scuffed his feet on the floor. It was actually a bit more boring being out here than in the Community Centre watching old people trying to dance. ‘I didn’t know that. Is that what your mum said?’
‘Yeah.’ Kyle nodded sagely. ‘But you don’t have to say anything about it at home. That’s the rules.’
‘Oh.’ There was always a lot to take in with Kyle. ‘Doesn’t your stepdad mind?’
‘Not really,’ his friend mused. ‘He gives her a clock round the mush if she does it too much and then she stops for a bit.’
To Charlie’s mind it didn’t seem like the right way to go about things.
Kyle nudged him in the ribs. The cigarette, now becoming damp at the end, was passed between them again. Kyle always made them spitty, but then he paid for them so Charlie couldn’t really complain. He looked much older than Charlie, so he was allowed to buy them from the cigarette counter in Save-It. Plus his aunty worked there, so he sometimes got a packet for free.
‘Do you like your stepdad at all?’
‘No,’ Kyle said.
‘Not even a bit?’
‘No. He’s a right wanker.’
‘Why did your mum marry him?’
His friend shrugged. ‘Some women like wankers the best.’
That didn’t make sense to Charlie. You would have thought that women would like someone who’d treat them nicely – like Johnny, for instance.
‘Do you let him know that you don’t like him?’
‘Yeah,’ Kyle said.
‘What do you do?’
‘I become the Child from Hell,’ he said in a menacing voice.
The Child from Hell. ‘But doesn’t that just get you told off a lot?’
‘It’s worth it,’ Kyle concedes.
‘I don’t like getting told off,’ Charlie admitted. He hated upsetting his mum at all, but sometimes it was quite easy to do. In fact, he’d better get back inside soon. If she missed him, there’d be hell to pay.
‘That’s because you haven’t got a real dad,’ Kyle continued. ‘Stepdads don’t love you like real dads do. It’s never the same.’
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