Johnny mumbled something about being allergic to rubber but, in truth, he just didn’t see why he should have to suffer numb-cock sex when it was the girl’s responsibility to make sure she didn’t get pregnant. None of the others had ever been stupid enough to get caught. If they had, they’d obviously done the sensible thing and dealt with it without bothering him. They certainly hadn’t sent their psycho dads round to tell him about it.
Dave knew he was struggling and felt sorry for him.
‘Look, it’s a bit late for shoulda woulda couldas,’ he said. ‘But if it was me – which it wouldn’t be, ’cos I’m not that stupid – I’d act like a total twat when I went round there.’
‘How’s that supposed to help?’ Johnny frowned up at him.
‘Well, we both know you’re a waste of space,’ Dave explained. ‘So all you’ve got to do is convince Frankie of that and you’ll be laughing.’
‘Waste of space?’ Johnny’s frown deepened.
‘The way I see it,’ Dave went on, undeterred, ‘Ruth’s way more into you than you are with her, so she’s never going to give up on you if everything stays the same. But if you change, it’ll throw her off balance.’
‘How am I supposed to change before seven?’ Johnny asked. ‘Put on a load of weight so she thinks I’m too fat for her? Or how about I grow a beard? Yeah, she hates beards, that should do it.’
‘I’m not talking physical changes,’ Dave told him patiently. ‘I’m talking attitude. Mind you, you could start with a physical,’ he added, wrinkling his nose. ‘Go round there stinking like this and she’ll boot you right back out.’
‘I don’t stink,’ Johnny protested.
‘Mate, you smell like a badger,’ Dave told him truthfully, picking up on the mingled odours of sweaty socks, unwashed sheets and sex. ‘But that’s good if it stops Ruth from wanting to get too close. And you should turn up late so her folks think you’re unreliable. And call her by the wrong name – that proper flips birds out, that.’ He gave Johnny a sly grin. ‘Do it my way, and I guarantee they won’t want you anywhere near her or the kid.’
Johnny thought about it. It would be a hell of a risk to act so disrespectfully in Frankie’s house, but even if it earned him the beating of his life wasn’t that better than being tied to Ruth for the next sixteen years or more?
‘All right, I’ll give it a shot,’ he said. Then, taking a surreptitious sniff of his armpit: ‘Do I really stink?’
The look Dave gave him was answer enough.
2
Ruth was in her bedroom when Johnny arrived, but she didn’t hear the bell because of the music blasting up through the floor from the parlour below. Her mum had hit the whisky straight after her dad had gone out this morning, and the more she drank, the louder she played her music. The Slim Whitman album had been on repeat-play for the last few hours, and it was at max volume now, so the house was literally rattling around them.
Ruth had escaped before the booze had had a chance to take control of her mum’s tongue as well as her ears, because she was vicious when she got started, and Ruth always got the brunt of it – whether she deserved it or not. But while she usually didn’t, she couldn’t deny that she’d brought it on herself today. Her dad had been furious, and her mum still was.
But it was Johnny’s reaction she was dreading the most.
He was going to be so pissed off at her for sending her dad round to tell him about the baby. But she’d been too scared to do it herself – terrified that he would tell her to get rid of it, and then finish with her to make sure it didn’t happen again. That was why she’d decided to tell her dad, because she’d known that once he got his head around it he would insist on telling Johnny ‘man to man’, and then Johnny wouldn’t dare turn his back on her.
It was one of the rare occasions when Ruth was glad to have Frankie Hynes for a father, but it hadn’t always been such a blessing. The neighbours had banned their kids from playing with her when she was growing up, scared that she would taint them by association. And the local lads had given her a very wide berth, terrified of what her dad would do if he caught them sniffing around her. That was why she’d fallen so hard for Johnny when he’d approached her at that club. He’d said he didn’t give a toss who her dad was, he liked her and wanted to get to know who she was. Those words had melted her heart – and it hadn’t hurt that he was the most gorgeous lad she’d ever seen, with beautiful blue eyes, thick chocolate-brown hair, and a cheeky, sexy grin that still, six months down the line now, made her go weak at the knees.
Johnny was the first lad she’d ever gone all the way with, and she’d known as soon as it happened that he’d be her last, so it had almost killed her when her cousin Lisa had come to her a couple of weeks later and told her that he’d been seen with another girl. Ruth had cried her eyes out over that, heartbroken to think that her man would even think about cheating on her. And he was her man. She’d given herself to him heart and soul, and no bitch was ever going to steal him away from her.
She hadn’t dared to confront him in case he admitted that it was true, so, instead, she’d convinced herself that Lisa was lying. And that was feasible enough, since it had been obvious from the start that Lisa had wanted Johnny for herself. She’d slept with his best mate, Dave, that night, but Ruth had seen the way she’d looked at Johnny when she thought no one was watching – like she was just dying to get her lips around his thing. And then there was all that stuff she’d said about him when they’d been walking back to hers the next morning; calling him a pretty boy, and a poser, and telling Ruth that she was fooling herself if she thought she was ever going to see him again, because boys like him were only after one thing – and now he’d got it he wouldn’t want to know.
Well, Johnny had proved Lisa wrong about that. And now Ruth would prove her wrong about everything else. Whatever Johnny might or might not have done behind her back in the past, now that he knew she was carrying his baby he would put his partying ways behind him and step up to the mark and support her.
But she was still dreading having to face him, and she sighed now as she gazed at her reflection. She was a pretty girl, with thick black hair, Bambi brown eyes, and plump pink lips that would have been described as kissable if they weren’t always pursed in disapproval. But, right now, she looked a mess from all the crying she’d done today. Her eyes were puffy, and her nose was an ugly, shiny red blob.
But she’d already reapplied her make-up several times over to no avail, so there was nothing more she could do. She just hoped that Johnny would be too wrapped up in thoughts of being a dad to notice.
Outside on the doorstep, Johnny rang the bell for a second time – although he didn’t see how anyone on the inside expected to hear it over the God-awful country music they were blasting out.
This was the first time he’d ever been to the house. Ruth had invited him round loads of times, but always when Frankie was out of town. And since it was Frankie he’d been desperate to get in with, Johnny hadn’t seen the point. Now that he was actually here, it was nothing like he’d imagined. He’d thought it would be some kind of mansion, with stone lions on the gateposts and a fancy fountain on the manicured lawn – because that was the kind of place he’d have bought if he was as loaded as Frankie was supposed to be. But this was just a semi – and a shabby one at that, even by Johnny’s standards, which were pretty low considering the squalor of the flats he’d grown up in and now lived in by choice. There were chunks of plasterwork missing off the walls, and the fence was falling to pieces, while the garden was little more than a mud-pit dumping ground for all the knackered old motors that were parked up on it. The way Ruth acted, he wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that the Hyneses were related to the Queen. But now he knew that they were no better than him, he felt a bit easier about being here.
Johnny pushed the bell for a third time, and added a couple of sharp raps on the knocker for good measure. That did the trick. The music stopped abruptly and, seconds later, the
door opened and a gaunt-featured skinnier version of Ruth stared out at him. Guessing it to be her mother, he held out his hand and gave her one his most charming smiles.
‘Mrs Hynes? Hi, I’m Johnny . . . Ruth’s friend.’
Rita Hynes’s thin lips arched down in a contemptuous sneer.
‘Is that what you call it these days? Not boyfriend, or lover? Or how about father of the illegitimate child she shouldn’t be carrying?’
Engulfed by a waft of sour whisky-breath, Johnny drew his head back and stuffed his hands into his pockets. So much for the charm offensive. There was no need to guess how bad this was going to be, because Rita Hynes wasn’t even bothering to pretend it would be pleasant.
‘You might as well come in now you’re here,’ Rita ordered, drink sloshing over the rim of the glass she was holding as she stepped aside to let him in. She slammed the door shut behind him. ‘Frankie’s running late, so you’ll have to make do with me till he gets here. And her,’ she added, glancing back when she heard footsteps on the staircase.
Ruth’s cheeks were crimson when she reached the foot of the stairs.
‘Why don’t you go and sit down?’ she suggested quietly to her mother. ‘I’ll let you know when Dad gets home.’
Rita stayed put stubbornly and raised the glass to her lips. She took a long, slow drink and raked her gaze from Johnny’s face to his feet and back again. Then, sniffing as if she couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about, she walked unsteadily down the hall and disappeared into her parlour.
Ruth turned to Johnny when she’d gone, all set to apologise. But the words died on her tongue when she saw his face.
‘Oh, please don’t tell me my dad did that? He swore he wouldn’t hurt you.’
‘He didn’t,’ Johnny lied, guessing that Frankie wouldn’t be too happy if he told her the truth, considering he obviously hadn’t. ‘I, er, got a bit roughed up playing footie with the lads.’
‘Footie?’
A frown of disapproval replaced the concern as Ruth wondered how he could even think about playing games after receiving such life-changing news. And then she noticed how dirty his clothes were, and saw a bit of sock peeping out through a hole in the toe of his scuffed trainers, and the frown deepened.
‘You could have got changed before you came round,’ she scolded. ‘You must know how important it is to make a good impression – tonight of all nights.’
‘Didn’t have time,’ Johnny replied, shrugging as if he didn’t see the problem – although he was secretly pleased that Dave’s plan seemed to be working already.
He’d been nowhere near a football pitch, as it happened, he just hadn’t bothered washing today. He also hadn’t brushed his teeth, and had spent the last few hours chain-smoking to ensure that his breath smelled rank. And, to complete the picture of shameless neglect, he’d pulled the dirtiest clothes he could find from the bottom of the pile on his bedroom floor.
Ruth wasn’t impressed, but she bit her tongue, reminding herself that it maybe wasn’t too smart to criticise him when she was the one who was trying to put their relationship on a firmer footing.
‘Sorry.’ She dropped the scowl and gave him an apologetic smile. ‘Didn’t mean to be so tetchy, but it’s been a bit tense round here today. Anyway, let me get you a drink while we wait for my dad. Do you want a brew, or something stronger?’
‘Tea,’ Johnny murmured, disappointed that she hadn’t reacted more strongly, because he’d put a lot of effort into making it look like he’d made none. And he could have murdered a beer, but he had a feeling he was going to need a clear head for when Frankie got home.
Ruth led him into the kitchen and waved for him to take a seat at the table while she got on with preparing the drinks. If she’d been nervous before, she was even more so now. Johnny hadn’t kissed her – although that was hardly surprising, because her mum’s presence was enough to put anyone off. But he also hadn’t hugged her. And his face was giving absolutely nothing away, so she had no clue how he was feeling.
When everything had been done that could be done, and all that was left was to wait for the kettle to boil, Ruth turned around and leaned back against the ledge. Even with his battered face and dirty clothes, Johnny was still heart-wrenchingly handsome, and she longed to feel his arms around her, to hear him say that everything was going to be okay. But there was an invisible wall between them, and she wasn’t brave enough to scale it on her own.
Johnny was looking around, taking in the fact that the inside of the house was every bit as shabby as the outside. The floor was covered in the same type of lino as his nan’s – although this was way more scuffed and cracked; and the fridge and washing machine looked older than him, Ruth, and his nan combined. But it was pretty clean for all that, and somebody had tried to pretty it up by putting a vase of flowers in the middle of the table – although, if their sweet scent was supposed to mask the nasty smell that was hanging in the air, it wasn’t working. He’d caught a whiff of it out in the hall, but it was far stronger in here, and he guessed it was coming from the drains – or maybe from the bulging bin-bags he’d just noticed heaped up against the back door.
The kettle switched itself off with a loud click. Glancing around, Johnny was unnerved to find Ruth staring at him with a strange intensity in her eyes.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
Shaken from her thoughts by the sound of his voice, she blushed and placed her hands over her stomach.
‘Just feel a bit sick. It’s been coming and going for the last few days, but I’m hoping it won’t last as long as it did for my mum. She reckons it went on all the way through with me.’
Wishing he hadn’t asked, Johnny gave her a tight smile and gazed down at his hands. But Ruth wasn’t about to let him lapse back into silence. Now that the subject had been broached, she was determined to keep him talking.
‘I hope it wasn’t too much of a shock, my dad coming round like that?’ she asked. ‘I wanted to tell you myself but he insisted.’
‘It was a bit,’ Johnny admitted. ‘Can’t say it’s the best news I’ve ever heard.’
Tears sprang into Ruth’s eyes and she dug her nails into her palms to keep them at bay. She didn’t know what she’d expected him to say, but she’d hoped it would be more positive than that.
‘What’s up now?’ Johnny asked when he saw her glittering eyes. ‘Have I said something wrong?’
‘No.’ She folded her arms tightly as her chin started wobbling. ‘I just thought you might be a bit happier about it, that’s all.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Johnny screwed up his face and stared at her in disbelief. ‘What lad in their right mind would want to be a dad at my age?’
A tear escaped and trickled slowly down her cheek. Groaning when he saw it, he said, ‘Oh, don’t start, Ruth. That ain’t gonna help.’
‘I’m pregnant,’ she whined. ‘And you don’t care, so I think I’ve got a right to be upset.’
‘Course I care,’ he lied, wishing she’d keep it down before her mum heard her and came rushing in to see what was wrong. ‘But you must know this isn’t going to work.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m only nineteen, and you’ve only just turned seventeen. How can we have a kid when we’re still kids ourselves? We’d be shit parents.’
‘Other people manage. And so will we.’
‘Oh, get real,’ Johnny moaned, slumping back in his seat. ‘I’m doing my best here, but you’re not making it easy.’
‘You think it’s easy for me?’ Ruth shot back tearfully. ‘I’m the one who’s carrying it – the one who’s being sick and getting fat.’ Her face crumpled now, and she wailed, ‘I’m going to be a big fat pig, and you won’t w-want me any moooore.’
I don’t even want you now! thought Johnny, grimacing when he saw the snot bubbling out of her nose. He didn’t know why girls thought that crying softened a man’s heart; it just turned his stomach and made him want to tell them how ugly the
y looked.
Her sobs were getting louder by the second. Desperate to shut her up, Johnny sat forward and said quietly, ‘Look, you’re not fat. But if it’s upsetting you this much just thinking about it, don’t you think that’s a good reason to put a stop to it before it gets that far?’
Ruth inhaled sharply as if he’d just punched her in the stomach.
‘You want me to kill our baby? Just to stop myself from getting fat?’
‘You’re the one who’s getting worked up about it,’ Johnny reminded her. ‘I’m only saying it would be better if we—’
‘Better if you what?’
Almost falling off his seat in shock, Johnny turned and gaped at Frankie standing behind him in the doorway.
‘I said, better if you what?’ Frankie repeated, walking fully into the room now and slamming his car keys down on the table. ‘Come on, big lad . . . you had enough to say when you thought it was just you and her.’
‘I – I was just saying I think we’re too young for a baby,’ Johnny croaked. ‘And it might be better if we – you know – think about stopping it before it goes too far.’
He cast a helpless look at Ruth, begging her with his eyes to help him out. But she raised her chin and shook her head.
‘I wouldn’t get rid of it even if I could,’ she said, a firmness in her voice that hadn’t been there moments earlier. ‘I’ve wanted it from the second I knew about it. It’s ours, and I already love it – just like I love you.’
She and Frankie both stared at Johnny now, and he started to feel physically sick. That was obviously his cue to say it back, but he didn’t feel that way, so he couldn’t.
Frankie hissed in disgust and looked at Ruth. Shaking his head when he saw the desperation in her eyes, he said, ‘I don’t know why you’re bothering, love. He obviously don’t feel the same. Know what he said when I told him about the baby? He said it ain’t his.’
‘You didn’t?’ Ruth gaped at Johnny in disbelief. ‘Why would you say something so horrible? You know you’re the only one I’ve ever been with.’
Lost Angel Page 2