at the youth disco. Only soft drinks were sold, but anyone even remotely cool would have a skinful before they arrived.
‘You got the hump with me, Tommy?’
Tommy glugged at the cider, then handed the bottle to Dumbo (a.k.a. Darren Prattley). Dumbo had earned his nickname because his ears were so bloody massive. He was also as thick as two short planks. ‘Nah. I ain’t got the hump, but you need to be more savvy in front of Ray. You and Benny acting like divs will only enlighten him to the fact we’ll be boozing.’
Smiffy lit up a cigarette. The monthly disco had only been going since May but was already a big hit. ‘Tommy’s right. You two need to act more sensible, otherwise you’ll balls this special privilege up for us.’
Benny nodded. ‘Understood.’
Dumbo grinned. ‘Yeah, sorry.’
By the time the lads arrived at the Catholic club, they were in high spirits. Lots of their schoolmates were already there, but the four lads always made a pact to stick together. Most of the kids at Eastbrook Comprehensive were cool towards them. Tommy had carved out a reputation as one of the hardest boys in his year, but because of their upbringing and the stigma attached to living in a children’s home, the boys always felt far more comfortable in one another’s company.
‘You look like one of the Jackson Five with that clobber on,’ Smiffy laughed.
Dressed in a silky orange shirt with a huge collar and beige flared trousers, Benny grinned. ‘Fuck you. I is the bee’s knees. You watch the girls flock my way. I got the moves.’
The lads chuckled as Benny danced to the sultry sound of George McCrae’s ‘Rock Your Baby’. Benny’s dad was from Jamaica and Benny had never met him. Tommy reckoned he must have been a cool dude though. Benny’s mother was an ugly fat cow, so the lad must have inherited his looks, charm and slick moves from elsewhere. He was popular with the girls too. At the last couple of discos he’d ended up snogging at least four.
Seeing Laura Higgins, one of the best-looking girls in his year, staring at him, Tommy turned his back on her. He knew he wasn’t a bad-looking lad because he’d been asked out by loads of girls, but he always declined. He had never even kissed a girl, not properly anyway. The thought of getting close to anyone after what that perve had done to him, literally filled him with dread. So he chose to concentrate instead on his boxing and football, and having a laugh with his mates.
Dumbo nudged Tommy. ‘Laura Higgins keeps looking at me.’
Rather than inform his pal he had more chance of flying to the moon than copping off with Laura Higgins, Tommy smiled. ‘Yep. I think you’re in there, pal.’
The rest of the evening passed in a happy blur. Benny stole the show by limbo-dancing to Typically Tropical’s ‘Barbados’, which earned him a snog with two girls. Smiffy pulled a munter who gave him a wank outside. Dumbo got a slap around the face when he pinched Laura Higgins’ bum, and Tommy spent most of the evening trying to avoid Laura Higgins and another girl with ginger hair who kept following him around.
‘I got that chick’s phone number,’ Benny grinned as they ambled back towards the home.
‘Which one?’ Smiffy asked.
‘The blonde with the big knockers. Her dad hates blacks, apparently, so I can’t pick her up from her house. I’m gonna take her to the pictures next weekend, though. We’ll sit in the back row, obviously,’ Benny chuckled.
Tommy took the packet of mints out of his pocket and ordered the lads to suck them. The effects of the alcohol had now worn off, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Ray would be waiting for them to arrive home. He always was.
‘Shit! Look, I got come all down me strides,’ Smiffy announced.
‘I’m surprised you even got a hard-on with that monster, let alone managed to come,’ Benny chuckled.
‘Yeah. She weren’t a looker, was she?’ Dumbo said. ‘But I wish I could have got a wank. All I got was a smack round the clock.’
The jovial banter continued for the rest of the short journey back to Shitlands. They rarely referred to their home as Maylands any more. It was their own private joke.
‘I can’t believe you didn’t ask Laura Higgins to dance at the end. I’d have been in there like a rat up a drainpipe if she’d been drooling over me all night. She’s hotter than a fucking gas cooker,’ Smiffy announced, playfully grabbing his best pal in a headlock. He and Tommy had been inseparable ever since Tommy had arrived at Maylands. Nobody beforehand had had the balls to stand up to that arsehole Wayne Bradley, but Tommy had. Smiffy had been extremely impressed by Tommy’s bravery. Though he’d only been tiny at the time, and as a result he’d lost the fight, Tommy had still given Bradley a run for his money and a shiner of a black eye.
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