along with it anyway. Giggling as he twirled her, losing herself too, just like she always did when he let her come to the Mecca on Manningham Lane with him, happy to be led by him – he was such a brilliant exhibitionist – basking in the oohs and ahs and loving all the comments about how amazingly they danced as a couple.
And then, as the track ended, he reeled her in towards him, cupped a hand round her buttock and began kissing her again.
‘Pad, babe,’ she started. ‘Look, you know I can’t resist you, but I’m on a promise and I have to go out, okay? I—’
There was a cough. ‘Not on my account, you don’t.’
It was Lucy’s voice, from the doorway, the light spilling across their feet as she pushed it open wider.
They both span around. ‘Luce, you’re here—’ Vicky started, conscious of Paddy deliberately taking his time lowering the hand that had been kneading her left breast.
‘With brilliant timing, as per usual,’ he finished dryly.
‘So it seems,’ Lucy said, her eyes darting between them. ‘So if I’m interrupting …’
‘Course you’re not,’ Vicky said, snatching her bag up and shoving her fags into it. ‘I’m just about ready. Just got to grab my jacket and see if I can scrounge a couple of quid off Mam. God, just think,’ she said, conscious that she was beginning to prattle, ‘this time next week we’ll both have pay packets. Can you imagine?’
She was aware of Paddy behind her, crushing his – her – fag out. Then bending over the cassette player and getting his tape out. She reached across Lucy to switch the bedroom light off.
‘I won’t,’ Lucy said, and her voice was flat and hard. ‘I’m on a monthly salary, aren’t I? It’s going to seem like an age.’
‘What d’you expect?’ Paddy said, as he slipped the tape into his back pocket. ‘That’s what you get for working in an office, isn’t it?’ He managed to make it sound, Vicky thought, like it was some sort of offence. ‘Anyway,’ he then added brightly, ‘where to first, then?’
Vicky felt her friend’s eyes on her before she turned to meet them. Accusing. Questioning. Boring into her back, as she led the procession back downstairs. She met them at the bottom of the stairs and frowned apologetically. But she could see Lucy was not in the mood for an apology.
Her eyes narrowed and she looked behind Vicky, to Paddy. ‘What, you’re coming?’ she said to him.
‘Course I am,’ he told her. ‘Got to keep an eye on my girl, haven’t I? Why?’ His voice was challenging. ‘You got a problem with that?’
Lucy ignored him. ‘Seriously?’ she said to Vicky, looking exasperated. ‘Seriously?’
‘Is it such a big deal?’ Vicky responded, feeling her hackles rise, despite herself. ‘It’s not like Gurdy won’t be out with us, not to mention half of bloody Lidget Green, for that matter.’
Lucy’s expression hardened. ‘Yes, actually, Vic. Yes it is. Because it means I get to play gooseberry while he bloody paws you. Great girls’ night out that’s going to be. Cheers, mate.’
Vicky could see Paddy’s satisfied grin forming out of the corner of her eye, and for a moment it crossed her mind to tell him that, actually, Lucy was right. That he needed to go somewhere else and amuse himself for a bit – Christ, he knew every-fucking-body, didn’t he? But something stopped her, or at least made her hesitate, and she wasn’t quite sure what it was. Or maybe she did know. It was frustration. Couldn’t Lucy just roll with it for once? Why did she have to make everything to do with Paddy so bloody difficult? Because Lucy knew as well as she did that when they got to the Boy and Barrel or the Crown or wherever they were going first, he’d be off on the dance floor, or off with some of his cronies, within minutes of them so much as stepping into the place. So why couldn’t Lucy just let it go?
‘Look, let’s just go, shall we?’ she said. ‘Let me just go talk nicely with Mam, yeah? Won’t be a second. Where’s Gurdy going to be anyway? He’ll be wondering where we’ve got to …’
Not waiting for an answer, she headed off into the back room, where her mam was, as ever, full-length on the sofa, fag in hand, tea at her elbow, telly blaring.
‘I’m off, Mam,’ she said. ‘And I was wondering …’
Her mam ferreted in her cardigan pocket before she’d even got the rest out. ‘And that’s only a sub,’ she said, pushing a five-pound note into Vicky’s palm. ‘Not a gift. And now you’re earning, I’ll be expecting keep off you too.’
Vicky slipped the money into her bag and headed back into the hall. Paddy was standing on the doorstep, the open door allowing a balmy summer night’s breeze in. It had a sweet, exotic scent to it, heralding the start of what she was determined was going to be a brilliant night. Lucy would get over herself. She usually did.
Paddy had his back to her, but turned around when he heard her and smiled.
‘Where’s Lucy?’ Vicky asked, looking past him into the street and not seeing her.
‘Stomped off, as she does,’ he said mildly. His hair had the same inky gloss as next door’s black cat. He ran a hand over it now, smoothing it down, feigning innocence.
‘Christ, Paddy! What did you say to her?’
‘Me?’ he looked astonished. ‘That one could start a fight with a fucking plant pot. Stomped off in a huff because I even fucking exist. Seriously, babes,’ he said, hooking the letter-box knocker to close the door behind them. ‘You don’t get it, do you? She doesn’t like me. And there’s fuck all we can do about that, is there? Seriously,’ he began again.
‘Pad, I feel awful. Where’d she go?’
‘I have no idea. She obviously didn’t feel like enlightening me.’
Vicky felt dreadful now. Dreadful and, all too belatedly, so bloody wrong. ‘Well, which direction did she go, then?’
‘This way,’ he said, as they fell into step. ‘She’ll be propping up the bar by the time we get there, you wait and see. But you know, babe, you’ve left school now and you’ve got to face facts. She’s got some high falutin’ job now, not to mention seeing a fucking copper’s son.’
‘So what? What difference does that make?’
Paddy slipped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed it. ‘Babe, you really need to ask me that? It makes all the difference. Sometimes,’ he squeezed her shoulder again, ‘you’ve just got to let friendships go. Hey!’ he added, as she raised a hand to belt him, albeit lightly. ‘I’m just saying. That’s all, babes. Just saying.’
It was going to be such a lovely night. That was the thing that really pissed Lucy off, as she stomped disconsolately round the corner into Terrington Crescent. It was just getting dark now, the sky coral at the horizon, and the air was warm and
