‘I see,’ Beth murmured, thinking, Great excuse . . . Leave the girlfriend at home and go and party with the stars.
‘God, that’s nice,’ Maria said, pulling a floaty green top out of the case.
‘Have it,’ Beth said, flapping her hand. ‘I’ll just root through your stuff later. Still got that nice blue dress you bought last time I was here?’
‘There’s no way you’re getting your hands on that,’ Maria told her, smiling coyly. ‘Joel loves that dress. He says it reminds him of when he fell in lust with me.’
Mentally sticking a finger down her throat, Beth unpacked her clothes and hung them in the wardrobe.
‘Right, what have you got planned for tonight?’ she asked, rubbing her hands together when everything was done. ‘Nightclub? Pictures? Restaurant? All of the above?’
‘Er, none, actually.’ Maria wrinkled her nose sheepishly. ‘Sorry, babe, I know it sounds awful when we haven’t seen each other for so long, but Joel could be back any time, and he’ll be knackered, so I was thinking we could have a nice night in. I’ve got dinner all planned: steak and garlic mushrooms – just how you like it. And we’ve got stacks of DVDs, so we can just slob out and watch films and drink wine.’
‘Sounds great,’ Beth said, smiling tightly.
‘Aw, I know you’re disappointed,’ Maria said apologetically. ‘But I’ll make it up to you tomorrow when I take you to the Trafford Centre. You’ll love that. You thought the Arndale was big, just wait till you see the size of this place. Then we’ll go out tomorrow night. Joel wants to go to some new club he’s found in Alderley Edge, but we can go back to Scarletts, if you’d rather.’
‘Gee, I can hardly wait,’ Beth muttered.
This was going to be a whole barrel of fun if Joel was the hub around which they were going to revolve this weekend – not. Maria was simpering over him now, so what the hell was she going to be like when Miracle Man was here in person? Beth felt like she was on the set of The Stepford Wives, or something. She was going to need help to survive this weekend.
Taking her cigarettes out of her bag, she looked around with a frown.
‘I don’t see an ashtray . . . Please don’t say I’ve got to go into the garden to smoke. My mum’s driving me crazy with that.’
‘No, of course not,’ Maria said, nipping into her own room and bringing an ashtray back. ‘I didn’t know you were smoking again.’
‘Yeah, well, I needed it after you buggered off and left me at the mercy of those bratty kids,’ Beth said, lighting two and handing one to her.
‘See!’ Maria exclaimed with glee. ‘I told you they were dwarf demons disguised as kids! Why do you think I quit so fast?’
‘’Cos you turned into a rich bitch and didn’t need the money any more,’ Beth said wryly. ‘Anyway, shut up about school or I might just slit my wrists. Where d’y’ keep the wine in this place?’
‘It’s one o’clock in the afternoon,’ Maria laughed, sure that Beth was messing about.
She wasn’t.
‘It’s Saturday, and you’re not taking me out, so we might as well have some fun,’ she said. ‘I’ll show you the pictures of the art gallery I’ve set up in the school hall, and you can show me all the weird stuff you found in the attic.’
‘Oh, yeah, I forgot about that,’ Maria said, grinning as she jumped up to go and get the wine. ‘Wait till you see the rings. They’re just incredible. Joel says . . .’
Sticking her fingers in her ears, Beth did a silent La La La as she followed Maria back down the stairs.
Sitting at the kitchen table, they spent the next hour drinking wine, looking at Beth’s photos, reminiscing about the old days, and chatting about what Maria had been doing.
Catching Beth rolling her eyes when she was telling her a story about one of Joel’s clients, Maria frowned.
‘Am I boring you?’
Smiling sheepishly, Beth said, ‘A bit. Sorry, Maz, but I came to see you, not to talk about Joel all day.’
‘You don’t like him, do you?’ Maria asked quietly, hoping that Beth would deny it and they could get on with the weekend in peace.
‘I don’t really know him,’ Beth replied evasively. ‘What do your other friends think of him?’ Sitting back, she peered at Maria over the rim of her glass.
Swallowing the last of her drink, Maria got up and went to the fridge for another bottle.
‘I haven’t actually seen anyone since I got back,’ she admitted, bringing it back to the table and reaching for the corkscrew.
‘No one?’ Beth frowned. ‘I thought you said you’d got back in touch with your friend Vicky.’
‘I did ring her,’ Maria murmured, feeling as if she was on trial now. ‘But she wasn’t in. Her boyfriend said he’d tell her to ring me, but she didn’t.’
‘That was the first night,’ Beth said, remembering how offended Maria had been by the guy’s brusqueness when she related the story to her. ‘It’s been six months. You mean you haven’t rung her since then?’
‘What’s the point?’ Maria shrugged, pouring wine into their glasses. ‘She obviously doesn’t want to keep in touch.’
‘You don’t know that. What if her boyfriend forgot to pass the message on?’
‘It doesn’t really matter. I’m not sure I want to go back to all that, anyway.’
‘All what?’ Beth persisted. ‘Friends?’
‘Old friends,’ Maria corrected her. ‘I don’t know them any more. We’ve got nothing in common.’
Beth gave her a funny look. ‘Oh, right . . . So, if I can’t get any more time off work and don’t manage to come up for another year, you won’t want to know me?’
‘Don’t be daft,’ Maria tutted. ‘You’re different. We’ve known each other for years.’
‘Yeah, and you knew Vicky for years.’
‘Yes, well, she’s not the type of—’ Stopping herself, Maria shrugged. ‘I just don’t want to go back to all that. It reminds me of my mum.’
Still frowning, Beth chewed this over. Maria had been about to say that her old friend wasn’t the type of person she wanted as a friend any more. But since when did she get so snobby? That wasn’t like her at all.
‘Haven’t you made any friends round here?’ she asked then.
‘Not really.’ Maria shifted uncomfortably in her chair. ‘I have a laugh with the hairdresser round the corner, but she’s a lot older than me, so I can’t see us being friends.’
‘Your hairdresser’s supposed to have a laugh with you,’ Beth told her quietly. ‘That’s what you pay them for. I’m talking about proper friends – the kind you have round for coffee. What about your neighbours? You’ve been here six months, but I can’t honestly say I’ve ever heard you talking about them. Please tell me I’m wrong.’
‘Why are you going on at me?’ Maria said defensively. ‘What’s the big deal if I talk to the neighbours or not? They’re all too snobby, if you must know.’
‘You mean they don’t think you’re their type of person?’ Beth threw her own words back at her, one eyebrow neatly arched.
‘I’m not a snob,’ Maria protested, realising what Beth was getting at. ‘If I don’t choose to keep in touch with people I used to know, that’s my business.’
‘What about Joel?’ Beth countered smoothly. ‘He’s someone you used to know, but you’re certainly keeping in touch with him.’
Maria felt the heat rise to her cheeks. Beth was making a point, not exposing the lie, but it felt just as bad.
‘He’s totally different,’ she murmured, looking around for her cigarettes so that she didn’t have to meet Beth’s gaze. ‘If you saw the way the others lived, you’d understand.’
Beth was afraid she understood all too well. Maria thought she was better than her old friends because they lived in council flats and she owned this great big old house.
Sitting in uncomfortable silence for the next few minutes, the girls smoked their cigarettes and drank their wine. Then Maria sighed wearily.
<
br /> ‘Why are we arguing?’ she asked, her voice pained. ‘We were having a laugh till you started having a go at me about Joel.’
Beth could have said it had gone sour because Joel was all Maria wanted to talk about. That they’d only been having a great time because they’d merely skimmed the surface of everything else. That Maria had only been happy to see her because she hadn’t talked to anyone in six months but Joel and the hairdresser. That she seemed to have isolated herself and turned into one of those sad little under-the-thumb housewives that they had always vowed they would never become – spending more time worrying which fragrance of washing powder smelled best fresh off the line than what to do with her talents and intelligence.
Beth could have said all of that. Instead, she shrugged and gave her friend a weary smile.
‘Too much wine, I guess. You know what a belligerent cow I am when I drink.’
‘Yeah, I remember,’ Maria said, with a sad smile of her own. ‘Not usually with me, though.’
‘Yeah, well, I’ve got a lot on my plate at the moment,’ Beth said. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to be horrible.’ Swallowing her wine, she reached for the bottle.
‘Are you sure you should?’ Maria laughed. ‘I don’t want you getting even more drunk and gobby.’
‘Moi?’ Beth said, looking shocked. ‘As if!’
Peeling his eyes open when he felt a warm, wet sensation on his dick, Joel raised his head and looked down. Oh, it was her – the girl from the party. Rita something-or-other.
Yawning, he peered at the clock on the bedside table. Three-thirty. No way had he been sleeping all day. What the hell had he been drinking last night? If he didn’t know better, he’d swear he’d been spiked.
A gnawing feeling of irritation gripped Joel’s stomach as the girl’s head bobbed up and down, up and down, and he found himself fighting the urge to grab her hair and wrench her off him. He’d rather have no blow job than a bad blow job, but she’d obviously been taking lessons from one of those ill-informed glossy mags, and was going for it good style: Nibble delicately on the tip, then lick the shaft and squeeze, all the while gently cupping the balls.
What was wrong with just sucking, for fuck’s sake?
Nope . . . this wasn’t working. He was stone dead from the inside out. Nice girl – from what he could remember – but she just wasn’t doing it for him.
‘Sorry, babe,’ he said, easing himself out of her mouth – trying not to show the revulsion he felt when his limp dick flopped wetly onto his thigh.
Ugh!
‘It’s not your fault,’ he assured her. ‘You’re fantastic. But I’ve, er, got things to do, and I didn’t realise how late it was.’
‘It’s all right,’ the girl said, getting up. Her lips were swollen from her efforts, her eyes clouded with disappointment.
Watching as she walked into the bathroom, Joel frowned. He vaguely remembered being introduced to her last night, but he was sure she hadn’t looked as young as she did right now. She had a slightly boyish shape to her bum and hips, and she walked like a sulky little girl. But then, she probably was sulking after that brush-off. Poor cow had been trying so hard.
Coming back, she tossed a towel to him. Thanking her, he wiped himself and sat on the edge of the mattress to pull his pants on.
Still naked, the girl sat on a straight-backed chair and reached for a half-spliff that was lying among the dimps in the ashtray. Lighting it, she drew her feet up onto the seat and rested her chin on her knees to watch him.
‘Am I going to see you again?’ she asked, giving Joel a full-on view of puffy red pussy lips, complete with a shockingly dick-like clit.
Blanching, Joel averted his gaze. Shit! He hadn’t noticed that last night. No wonder she had boyish hips – she probably was a boy. He had to stop getting so out of his head. It was going to be the death of him.
‘Er, no, I don’t think so,’ he said. ‘I had a great time, but I don’t think it’s very fair, me getting this for free after charging you for the gear.’ Frowning then, he glanced up at her. ‘You did buy some off me, didn’t you?’
‘Yeah, I took a twenty bag,’ she said. ‘But I don’t mind paying,’ she added quickly, a spark of hope in her voice. If that was his only problem . . .
‘Nah, it wouldn’t feel right.’ Joel smiled apologetically. ‘You’re a lovely girl, Rita, but—’
‘Anita.’
‘Anita. Sorry. You’re a lovely girl, but you deserve better than that. I wouldn’t want to be accused of taking advantage.’ Getting up, Joel pulled his shirt on and buttoned it up. ‘Any boy would be proud to have you as his girl.’
‘I’m not a girl.’ Anita interrupted, pouting now. ‘I’m a woman. I thought you would have realised that after last night.’
‘Oh, I do, believe me. But you still deserve better.’ Joel took the spliff from her fingers and took a drag before handing it back. ‘I’ve, er, got a wife and six kids waiting for me at home.’
‘You’re married ?’ Anita drew her knees up a little higher, covering her pointy little tits. ‘You never said.’
‘Not the kind of thing you advertise when you meet someone you really like,’ Joel said, gazing at her regretfully. ‘Believe me, if I wasn’t, you’d be the perfect . . .’ Pausing, he inhaled deeply. Then he said, ‘No, that’s not fair. Nothing can happen, so there’s no point saying I’d like it to.’
Anita frowned. He really was gorgeous, and she really wanted to see him again. But six kids . . . ?
‘I’d best get off, then,’ Joel said, pulling his jacket on. ‘You’ve got my number, so just give me a ring if you want another score, okay?’
‘Yeah, fine.’ Anita reached for her dressing gown. Folding her arms when she’d pulled it on and fastened the belt, she pursed her lips thoughtfully as if she wanted to say something.
‘I’ll see myself out,’ Joel said, wanting to escape before she came out with something meaningful.
‘Look, I know you’re hooked up,’ Anita blurted out. ‘But I don’t mind if you fancy coming round for a shag now and then – no strings.’
‘Thanks, babe.’ Joel kissed her softly on the cheek. ‘I’ll keep it in mind.’
Patting his pocket to check that the money was still there, he winked at her and let himself out of the flat.
Lighting a cigarette as he trotted down the stairs, he reached into his pocket for the car keys. Maria had insisted on buying the second-hand Beemer after he started working again – to save on cab fares. He didn’t think she’d even driven it yet, but she didn’t seem bothered, so why should he worry? She was happy, as long as he took her shopping. And that was a small price to pay for the extra freedom the car afforded him.
Walking outside, he stopped in his tracks when he didn’t see the car. Rushing down the path to the pavement, he scratched his head and looked up and down the street. The car was nowhere to be seen. For one horrible moment he thought it had been stolen, and everything crashed down on his head. He’d have to report it to the police, and they would tell Maria. And what excuse could he give for being in Manchester when he was supposed to be in London?
Shit!
He had a sudden flashback of getting out of a cab with Rita-Anita last night. That was right . . . He’d been so pissed that he could barely walk, and Jippi had made him leave the car in the residents’ car park. Great!
Calling a cab, he leaned against a tree at the kerb and smoked until it arrived. Dashing head down to the underground guards’ booth when he got there, he persuaded them to let him in. Retrieving the car, he drove out with his head still down – to avoid having Jippi see him and delay him with nonsense. He was a great guy, but he was way too in-your-face for daytime consumption, and Joel was feeling too rough to deal with him just now.
It was his own fault that he felt like this, though, because he’d been getting a little too much of a liking for the coke lately. But he wasn’t stupid enough to let it get out of hand, so it wasn’t too much of a problem. His profits wer
e suffering a bit, but he was having a good time, so he couldn’t really complain. Apart from when he mixed it with alcohol, like last night, and ended up feeling rough as shit.
He just wanted to get home and fall into a steaming hot bath, then into bed with Maria. Except that her bloody friend would probably be there by now. Oh, well, it would give him a chance to sleep this off while they gossiped.
‘That you, Joel?’ Maria called from the kitchen when she heard the front door closing. ‘We’re in the kitchen.’
‘I’ll be with you in a minute,’ he called back. ‘I’m just going to jump in the shower. It was a bummer of a drive. Got stuck in traffic on the M1.’
‘Beth’s here,’ Maria said, coming into the hall to give him a kiss. ‘Just come and say hello before you go up – please?’
Relenting when he saw a spark of desperation in her eyes, Joel said, ‘Okay, but no hugs.’ Putting his hands on her hips, he eased her away. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, but I’ve been stuck in the car for hours. I reek of sweat.’
‘You smell fine to me,’ Maria murmured, sniffing his lapel. ‘Smells more perfumy than sweaty.’ Drawing her head back, she narrowed her eyes and gave him a mock-accusing look. ‘Anything you want to tell me?’
‘Oh, like what . . . ?’ Joel said wryly. ‘Like I’ve just jumped out of another woman’s bed and come straight home to you?’
Maria laughed and gave him a soft slap. ‘Yeah, right. And I’ve been having it off with the boiler man while you’ve been gone.’
‘Not the big fat one with the builder’s arse?’ Joel grimaced. ‘I thought you had better taste than that!’
‘When you’ve quite finished,’ she scolded playfully, ‘my friend is waiting to say hello. So, move it . . .’ She pushed him into the kitchen.
As soon as Joel saw Beth, he remembered why he didn’t like her. She had a sharpness in her eyes that screamed of suspicion and distrust – of him. He’d only ever seen her that once, but she’d had that same look in her eye then – like she could see right through him.
And he wasn’t imagining it, because Maria had told him that Beth was forever advising her to do this, that or the other with her money. Safeguarding herself, she called it, but he suspected that she thought he was trying to rip Maria off. It was the other way around, in his opinion. Beth wanted to keep Maria and her money all to herself – to be her only friend, so that she’d be first in line if Maria met an untimely death. The bitch was probably kicking herself for leaving Maria alone that fateful night, giving her the space to get involved with Joel. But if she thought she could waltz in here and oust him now, then she was sadly mistaken. He wasn’t going anywhere.
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