hair upside down to give it some oomph, and plastered it with hair-spray. Applying the bright red lippy, she smiled at her reflection. Unlike the rest of the world, she failed to notice her rolls of fat, bingo wings and corned-beef legs.
‘Kevin, here I come,’ she said, blowing a kiss at the mirror.
Unable to drag Tracey and Darren out early, Susan headed to her local alone. The pub was called The Royal Duchess, but no one referred to it as that. Everybody just called it The Duchess. Apart from Kev’s mum, she barely knew the rest of the family and was nervous about meeting them. She ordered a glass of cider and sat on the barstool, deep in thought. Tracey, her best friend, had recently fallen pregnant and overnight had changed into Little Miss Perfect.
‘We’re doing up the nursery, or me and Darren are shopping for baby clothes,’ were the excuses she received when she asked Tracey to go out with her.
‘Boring cow,’ Susan muttered as she sank her pint and ordered another. Tracey might not be able to drink tonight, but she certainly could.
‘You look nice, Suze – yer goin’ somewhere special?’
Susan smiled. Fat Caz, the barmaid, was desperate to be her friend and had been sucking up to her for ages. She even gave her free drinks when the guv’nor wasn’t looking.
‘Yeah. Kev’s uncle’s fortieth. What about you? Off out after yer shift?’ Susan replied, knowing full well that Caz had no friends to go anywhere with.
‘Dunno, might go clubbing,’ Caz said awkwardly.
Susan smiled. The thought of Fat Caz clubbing amused her immensely. She looked at her watch. The party was being held in the Bancroft Arms and was kicking off at eight. Kev, as usual, had told her to make her own way there. She’d begged him to come and get her, but he was having none of it.
‘Please Kev, don’t make me walk in on my own. I don’t wanna schlep there in the dark – say someone jumps me?’
Ever the gentleman, Kev had laughed down the phone at her. ‘Fuck off, Suze. You look like a rugby player. Who in their right mind is gonna attack you?’
Smiling at Fat Caz, Susan downed her pint and ordered another. Let Kevin sweat, worry why she was late. He needed to be taught a lesson.
At eight-thirty, Susan decided to make a move. ‘I’m goin’ now, Caz. Get a pen and I’ll give you me number so we can go out one night.’
Elated by the invitation, Caz popped the number in her purse. ‘Bye, mate. I’ll call you in the week,’ she said.
Susan smiled as she walked towards The Bancroft. Caz might be a moose, but with Tracey up the duff, at least she was someone to go out with. Kev often went out with the lads and she was sick of sitting at home. Apart from Tracey, she had no other mates and beggars couldn’t be choosers.
As Susan reached the pub she could hear Tears for Fears singing ‘Everybody Wants to Rule the World’. She took a deep breath and made her grand entrance. Searching for Kev, she spotted him in deep conversation with his mum. She bowled over. ‘Get us a drink then, Kev. Where’s Tracey and Dal? Are they here yet?’
Realising that she was half pissed, Kevin shot her a look. ‘They’re sitting over by the toilets. Go and sit with ’em, and I’ll be over in a minute.’
Annoyed by his cold attitude, Susan ignored him and went up to the bar. ‘I’ll have a pint of cider. Actually, make that two.’
Seething, she downed one on the spot and marched towards the table with the other. Kev was such a bastard to her at times. She’d gone to all that effort to make herself look glamorous and he hadn’t even said she looked nice.
‘What’s up with yous two?’ she asked, as she sat herself down with Tracey and Darren.
Darren rubbed his girlfriend’s arm. ‘Tracey don’t feel too good. The smoke’s making her feel sick.’
Susan let out a deep sigh. This was going to be the night from hell, sitting with these two. They had faces like smacked arses, the pair of ’em.
As Wham’s, ‘Wake Me Up Before You Go Go’ hit the speakers, Susan knocked back her drink and stood up, ‘Come on ’ave a dance with me, Trace. It might make yer feel better.’
Tracey shook her head. ‘You get up, Suze. Me and Darren’ll sit ’ere and watch yer.’
Susan shrugged her shoulders and headed towards the bar. Sod dancing, she needed another drink, and pronto. Eyes darting around the pub, she searched for Kevin. Where the bloody hell was he? He’d barely even said hello to her, and he hadn’t come over like he said he would.
As the evening wore on, Susan became angrier and more inebriated. ‘I ain’t lettin’ him treat me like this. I’m goin’ to find the cunt,’ she told Tracey.
Eyes glazed, she scanned the pub and spotted him. He was standing by the door chatting up two pretty girls. With the familiar pain in her heart that he regularly inflicted upon her, she staggered towards him.
‘Whaddya think you’re doin’? I’m yer girlfriend and you ain’t even spoken to me all night. You’ve got time to talk to these slappers, though, ain’t yer?’
Kevin felt himself blush. Susan was shit-faced and he wasn’t about to introduce her as his girlfriend. Talk about showing him up in front of his family. Grabbing Susan by the arm, he dragged her over to where Tracey and Darren were sitting. ‘Do me a favour, Dal. When you go home, take this cunt with yer. She’s too pissed to walk, so you’ll ’ave to put her in a cab. She’s a fuckin’ embarrassment, she is.’
Realising she’d gone too far, Susan started to grovel. ‘I’m sorry, Kev. I was upset because you hadn’t sat with me all night. I promise I’ll behave meself, I won’t show you up, honest.’
Kevin pushed her away. ‘You can sit ’ere until Tracey and Dal leave. I’m goin’ up Benjy’s with me uncle Paul and his mates and you ain’t invited. Now just sit still and shut yer trap, and if yer make a cunt out of me any more tonight, I’m gonna rip yer fuckin’ head off. Got it?’
Not wanting him to see her upset, Susan ran into the toilets. He had a habit of making her cry and she was sure that he got a kick out of it.
‘I love Kev, he’s such a scream. Is he comin’ up Benjy’s with us?’ said a voice from inside the cubicle.
As Susan looked in the mirror, she saw the colour drain from her face.
‘Yeah. He told us to leave before him. I think he’s gotta get rid of that awful bird first, and he’ll meet us up there. Christ knows who she was, but didn’t she look a sight in those white leggings?’
Blinded by panic, Susan ran from the pub. She knew the voices in the toilet belonged to the birds Kev had been chatting up. She’d been too busy grovelling to see them go in there, but they were definitely talking about her. She was the only one at the party wearing white leggings. Holding onto the wall, she took deep breaths. She was going to be sick.
Having seen her bolt past, Tracey followed her out. ‘Are you OK, Suze?’ she asked, rubbing her back.
Susan stuck her fingers down her throat and brought up as much of the
