Jam Tops, the Fonz and the Pursuit of Cool

by Kris Lillyman

  The girls showed Daisy to her apartment and said they would call for her in an hour or two, after which, the three of them would go meet up with the rest of the gang at the pre-arranged place on the sea front.

  The apartments, at present, were fairly bare and still lacked much of their fixtures and fittings. However, as Daisy entered, she was pleased to see there was a small kitchen, which had a cooker, fridge and a washer/dryer.

  Beyond this was an airy lounge with french doors that led out onto a wide balcony offering glorious views of the Med. There was also a spacious bedroom with a large double bed - and, best of all - at least for Daisy’s immediate needs, a plush en-suite with a shower and loads of hot running water.

  Heaven.

  Quickly, Daisy threw her small overnight bag onto the bed, stripped off her clothes and took a long, luxurious shower.

  When she finally emerged, she towelled off, letting her hair dry naturally - which was a risk as it had a propensity to resemble a hedge if untended and left to it’s own devices but, with dedicated brushing and the appropriate amount of time, Daisy felt she could tame it into something that might possibly pass for pretty.

  First though, she brushed her teeth extensively - along with her gums, tongue and the inside of her mouth - so that everything was minty fresh - which she hoped would give her that Colgate ‘ring of confidence’ which she was sorely lacking as she thought about the hours ahead in the bars and clubs of Magaluf.

  Oh, why couldn’t Steve be there with her now - why couldn’t it be just the two of them in this perfect little apartment for the whole weekend?

  But, alas, she knew she would have to wait a little longer - at least until they came back from their night on the town.

  Then, though, she would have Steve Cool all to herself.

  Bliss.

  ***

  Slightly under two hours later, Mandy and Tricia, looking refreshed and gloriously happy, called for Daisy who was now feeling much better. She was wearing a cropped ‘Frankie Says Relax’ T-shirt, a short ‘acid wash’ denim skirt and a pair of white hi-top Nikes with neon pink socks and matching head band - all very Top of the Pops - and a bit too ‘girlie’ for Daisy’s taste but it was what everyone seemed to be wearing in the clubs on the Costa Brava so she thought it might do for Magaluf, too.

  “Wow! You look hot!” Said Mandy who looked sensational herself in a white vest top and short black ra-ra skirt.

  “Yeah, that little rest’s done wonders for you,” agreed Tricia; her big boobs on display in a knotted Day-glo shirt which showed off her tanned midriff; her long legs emphasised by a tiny white mini and Day-glo shoes that matched her shirt.

  Together with Daisy, the three of them looked a bit like Bananarama (if one of Bananarama was a ginger, which they weren’t).

  “You think so?” said Daisy uncertainly.

  “Yeah,” said Tricia, “Believe me, the guys are gonna love you.”

  Daisy wasn’t bothered about ‘guys’ plural, but about only one ‘guy’; Steve. As long as he thought she looked okay then she would be happy.

  Mandy and Tricia were confident that he would.

  Apparently the girls had been an ‘item’ for several months but few people knew as they were very discreet. Even Steve had no idea and assumed that they both fancied him - indeed, he assumed that all women fancied him which, of course, most did.

  Daisy and the girls had a good laugh about this on the way back to town and she felt immensely privileged that they had let her into their secret. They said it was because they knew she’d ‘be cool’ about it. Which she was.

  Daisy sensed that neither had a particularly high opinion of Steve but they never said it directly, although it was definitely implied.

  Was she missing something?

  Daisy had only known Tricia and Mandy for a very short time but she trusted them instantly and instinctively knew she could rely on them - so what did they know that she didn’t?

  Nevertheless, they duly arrived at The King’s Head, an English pub that was the designated place for them to meet up with everyone, to find no one there that they recognised.

  After a couple of drinks and another hour of waiting, it was clear that no one was coming so they decided to head off on their own and hope that they bumped into their crowd later.

  And so began a night of cocktails, dancing and giggles. Mandy and Tricia were great fun - outrageous, boisterous and risqué - quite happily chatting to guys and flirting, never letting anyone think for a moment that they were actually gay.

  Daisy had a great time and hadn’t laughed so much in years, although she was feeling very guilty for leaving Steve in the lurch and kept wondering how he was getting on without her.

  She hoped he wouldn’t be too cross with her when she finally caught up with him.

  The hours ticked swiftly by and before long in was after two in the morning. Daisy was drunk but didn’t feel too bad as she had been having so much fun with Tricia and Mandy but now, all of them were ready to go back to the apartments.

  The girls were obviously keen to be alone together and Daisy was anxious to see Steve, looking forward to their night in the big bed in that lovely apartment.

  She knew that he might not be back there yet but she was prepared to wait - maybe he could wake her up when he came in and snuggle up with her in bed. Daisy could think of nothing better.

  Back at the apartments, she hugged Tricia and Mandy and thanked them for a brilliant night - even though she had been dreading it earlier.

  When the girls were gone, Daisy turned the key and opened her apartment door. She was surprised to see that the light was on and her heart skipped a beat, Steve was already there. How absolutely perfect.

  She walked in, stepping over a pair of jeans on the floor and, oddly, a black lacy bra, too. Suddenly, she had a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach which only intensified when she heard sounds coming from the bedroom. Sounds of sex.

  Already suspecting what she might find, but unable to stop herself from going any further - hoping upon hope that she was mistaken, Daisy walked into the bedroom and snapped on the light.

  The two of them were naked, in flagranté, doing it, right there on the big bed, the sheets thrown off and lying in a discarded heap on the floor. Steve and Loz, caught in the act; her legs wrapped around his back, her two generous Double D dollops pushed flat against his hairy chest.

  They both stopped and looked at her, like rabbits caught in the headlights.

  Then Loz laughed, clearly drunk, which caused him to laugh too. “Oops!” Steve said, which Loz seemed to think was hilarious.

  “Yeah, oops, Daze!” she agreed, as both of them collapsed into fits of laughter.

  “You’re welcome to join us, if you like,” Steve giggled, tears of mirth running down his cheeks.

  Yeah, Daze, there’s enough of him to share - if you no what I mean,” sniggered Loz, without a trace of remorse - “But that might not be ‘proper’ enough for you, chick.”

  Daisy just stared blankly. She was speechless, couldn’t believe it. Steve and Loz, in bed together, shagging.

  “Hey,” Steve said to Loz, “I reckon it might do her some good - might get that bloody stick out of her arse!”

  “Yeah, she is a bit frigid is our Daze!” Chuckled Loz.

  This was the cue for great hilarity, the pair of them seemingly guiltless; blatant in their betrayal of Daisy who merely stood and looked on, still unable to move or speak.

  She felt stung, sick, stupid used.

  “Well fuckin’ say something’ then if you’re gonna!” Steve snapped, his laughter now suppressed, “Either that or put the bloody light off, cos we’re busy here unless you hadn’t noticed!”

  Again, Loz threw her head back onto the pillow in stitches. “Yeah, I think we might be a while, chick, so run along would ya - although you cou
ld go get us another beer if you want - I’m gagging!”

  Steve guffawed, “Yeah, me too - make mine a bottle of vodka!”

  Daisy turned and walked out, shutting the door behind her. She heard Loz shout, “Hey, turn the bloody light off then, chick, would ya!” in her broad Scouse accent, but Daisy ignored it.

  She held it together all the way to Mandy and Tricia’s apartment, but as soon as Mandy opened the door, Daisy crumbled.

  Her shoulders started to shake and she broke down into floods of tears. Mandy grabbed her and pulled her inside, wrapping her in a big bear hug as she did so. A moment later, Tricia was there, too, both of them in just knickers and vest tops, enveloping Daisy in their arms.

  They knew what had happened as they had seen it all before. Words were not necessary as Daisy’s deep sobs echoed around the bare walls of the apartment.

  Her love affair with Steve Cool was well and truly over.

  ***

  An hour later, a heart broken Daisy was sitting in the middle of the bed, the girls either side of her, comforting her. From somewhere, Mandy had produced three coffees and they all sat sipping their hot mugs slumped cosily against the plumped up pillows.

  Daisy’s eyes were red and puffy from so much crying. “I just feel so bloody stupid,” she snivelled. “I mean, I was just so flattered, I suppose. He’s the one who pursued me - that’s the really odd thing.

  “I was wary at first cos I knew him from school - I’d always fancied him, but I was still wary. But then he actively pursued me, complimented me, made me feel beautif—” She broke down, unable to go on.

  “You are beautiful, sweetie,” said Tricia, Really beautiful - it’s just Steve, that’s what he does. He makes girls fall for him, has his wicked way with them and then moves on. We’ve seen it times and it pisses us off - we hate him for it.”

  “Yeah, but even after we - well, you know - he asked me to come with him here. Why do that if he didn’t want to be with me?”

  “You were back-up, sweetie. That’s all. A fail safe, just in case,” said Mandy honestly. “I know it’s hard to hear but it’s classic Steve, he does it all the time, keeps girls dangling so he can pick them up and use them whenever he wants. Think yourself lucky that you found out quickly and not like that poor girl in Scotland.”

  “What girl in Scotland?” Daisy asked.

  “You don’t know?” Said Tricia.

  “No.”

  “Some girl he went to school with. He was with her for a while, moved up to Scotland with her and everything—”

  “You mean, Pippa?” Suddenly it all clicked into place. Daisy remembered Steve saying something about him and Pippa and Scotland - she seemed to remember him changing the subject, too.

  “Yeah, that’s it. ‘Pippa’. That’s the one.” Mandy said. “Left her pregnant and buggered off to Ibiza with a load of his mates - it’s where he was before he got to Lloret.”

  “Pippa? Pregnant? Bloody hell!” Said Daisy, shocked.

  “Yeah, well, she’s had the kid now - been ringing Steve for months, writing to him too - letter after letter, phone call after phone call - begging him to go home. But he doesn’t want to - he’d rather stay here living the life of Riley, shagging everything in sight.”

  ‘Steve Cool is a bastard, Steve Cool is a bastard, Steve Cool is a bastard...’ Daisy’s mantra came back to haunt her. She should have listened to her instincts but she had been too smitten to heed the warning.

  Now she had found out the hard way. But not like poor Pippa.

  Daisy had never really liked Pippa at school, mainly because Gordy was so infatuated by her - and also because she had been going out with Steve when Daisy first saw him - but now her heart went out to her. That poor girl, alone in Scotland with a baby whose father did not want to know it.

  Her opinion of Steve was already low after catching him in bed with Loz, but now it had sunk even lower - his treatment of Pippa, indeed, of his own child, was despicable.

  Suddenly Daisy agreed with Mandy - she had been given a lucky break. After all, who knew what might have happened if she hadn’t caught Steve - maybe she would have turned out to be another Pippa.

  Strangely, it made her feel just a little bit better, knowing that she’d had such a narrow escape, although it still hurt deeply - especially Steve and Loz’s laughter which still echoed in her head - and probably would for a long time - it was so unpleasant, so malicious and had made Daisy feel completely worthless.

  She would never forget it.

  Above all, Daisy just couldn’t believe how badly she’d misjudged Loz. She’d thought her a friend - maybe even her best friend but she had proved to be nothing of the sort. Indeed, Tricia and Mandy had already shown themselves to be far superior in that regard.

  Daisy spent the rest of the night with the girls, effectively ruining the romantic plans they had intended, but they didn’t seem to mind and they all fell asleep cuddling in the bed.

  They spent all the next day together, too; the girls protectively watching over Daisy like clucking mother hens.

  Steve and Loz left the apartments just after lunch as Daisy and the girls returned from the beach, but they didn’t look their way, which was fine by Daisy as she was done with both of them.

  Tomorrow, when she got back to Lloret, she was going to have to set about finding a new job and a new place to stay, the idea of working and living with Loz now totally unbearable. Tricia and Mandy said that she was welcome to bunk down at their place until she got herself back on her feet and she was grateful of that.

  After last night, however, Daisy just wanted the Summer to be over, the thought of England and home almost irresistible. She thought wistfully of Gordy Brewer and briefly wondered what he was doing now. She still missed him even though it was so long ago that she had last set eyes on him - and that wasn’t under the best of circumstances, which she felt guilty about now.

  Then she thought of her mum and dad, those hymn-happy, half-baked, hairy hippies that she loved so much, and how good it would be to see them again at Christmas - wishing that was tomorrow.

  Firstly, however, she would have to endure yet another night in Magaluf - then another hellish boat ride back to Lloret - and just the idea of it was making her feel queasy.

  Daisy had intended to stay in and be miserable as she’d had quite enough of Majorca but somehow Mandy and Tricia managed to persuade her to go out with them, telling her that it would do her the world of good - “Bugger Steve bloody Cool!” were Mandy’s exact words.

  So, with her bag, rescued from the apartment she was supposed to have shared with Steve by Tricia, who had a master key, all three girls stood in front of the mirror getting ready for yet another night on the town.

  Mandy and Tricia, although both beautiful girls in their own right, were envious of Daisy’s marvellous figure - ‘perfectly proportioned’ they said, with ‘just the right amount of everything’. They admired her long, shapely legs, too, and thought Steve was ‘out of his tiny mind to ditch her in favour of a short-arsed, big-mouthed tart like Loz,’ which was sweet of them.

  After several hours of preening, pampering and perfuming, Daisy, Tricia and Mandy were once again ready for the madness that was Magaluf. The two girlfriends linked their arms through Daisy’s as the three of them, all stunners, strutted down to the sea front looking like super models.

  Bugger Steve bloody Cool.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mandy and Tricia were good company and they tried their best to raise Daisy’s depleted spirits but no matter what they did she just couldn’t shake off the blues.

  Even though she looked amazing - as the girls had already told her - and numerous guys on the streets of Magaluf had seconded, Daisy’s self confidence was at an all time low.

  For the second time in her life, Steve Cool had managed to hurt her deeply - but this time it had been fa
r worse than being called ‘a lezzie’ or having a hat pulled off her head at a stupid roller-disco when she was fifteen.

  This time he had made her properly fall for him - maybe even love him. So strong were her feelings that she had given herself to him, convinced that he felt the same way about her.

  But it was clearly all just a callous ruse, because then Steve had slept with her so-called best friend. If that in itself wasn’t humiliating enough, the pair of them had then laughed in her face and mocked her for being so frigid - or at least that’s what they had insinuated.

  It was all Daisy could think about. Maybe she was frigid, or a prude or just a bit square, perhaps she always had been. Except for once, in the Summer of ‘78, working with Gordy at Bailey’s Bandstand - because then, just for the briefest, best moment ever, she had been ‘cool’.

  Oh where, oh where was Gordy Brewer now?

  ***

  By the early hours Daisy was seriously flagging, she was tired of going from bar to bar, panicking that at any moment she might run into Steve Cool and Loz.

  So far, she had managed to avoid them - indeed, all the bars were absolutely heaving, chock-a-block full of drunken party people, so the chances of them spotting her was remote, which made her feel a little less anxious.

  She made it until 2am, but said to Mandy and Tricia that after the next drink she would go back to the apartment - even though she knew there was a chance of running into Steve back there. The girls understood and Mandy pressed a key into Daisy’s hand, “Look, she said, “If you wanna go back, that’s fine - but take this. Trish and me are gonna stay out - so you sleep in the apartment next to ours - no one’s in there and you’ll get a good night’s sleep - and we won’t disturb you when we get back, okay?”

  All the drama of the previous night had robbed the girls of any time together and Daisy knew that was the whole reason why they had originally gone on the trip in the first place - to spend some time alone in the comparative luxury of the plush apartments, which were a world away from their tiny little place in Lloret.