Stone Cold Red Hot - страница 56
“No, this place in Hulme, where I’m working. I was there on Monday night. There was lots of trouble and we had to call the police but the guy that came was a right waste of space, worse really. You could tell he sympathised with the racists and he didn’t give a shit for the family being hounded.” I told her about the events that night. “Then, I’m finally ready to go home and my car’s gone. I haven’t heard anything yet.”
“So do you reckon they’ll be able to kick them out now?”
“I hope so. I’ve sent the tape in so I’ll find out what they think tomorrow. I mean, even if there’s a wait while they prepare the court case, they need to get the victims out of there or give them protection or something. It’s so savage. I was watching these lads and thinking where does all that hate come from? How do you change people like that?”
“I don’t think you can,” she took a drink. “What about that other thing, the girl who disappeared in the 70’s?”
“Oh, don’t ask,” I groaned.
“That bad?”
I nodded. “It’s like this Pandora’s box of secrets. I went to the Records Office yesterday and it turns out the girl was illegitimate and yet she’s being brought up in this really strict household where they are all leading highly moral lives, setting an example for the flock, ‘cos Daddy’s a preacher. Only it turns out he’s having a fling with the next door neighbour.”
“And she was pregnant herself wasn’t she, the girl?” asked Diane.
“Yes.”
“Did she know her mother had been in the same position?”
“I don’t think so. She’d have said something to her mates, don’t you reckon? None of them mentioned it.” I took a drink. “And everyone thought she’d gone to university and then dropped out but it turns out she never made it.”
“Sound like a real mess.”
“It is and what worries me most…”
“Diane?” There was a man bending over our table. No-one I knew but Diane seemed pleased to see him.
“Hiya, Stuart. How ya doing?” Maybe one of her lonely-hearts dates. She’d been on plenty. That’s how she’d met Desmond. What would she tell him about her reunion with Ben? Anything?
Stuart glanced my way a few times. He was attractive but I observed him dispassionately. I’d got out of the habit of clocking the talent, or of acting on it. Pretty men were like beautiful gardens; something I noted as I walked on by.
Well, they were usually.
“This is Sal,” Diane said, “Stuart Bowker.”
He gave me a smile and asked me a question, looking intently at me as though I was the most interesting thing in the universe. I can’t remember what it was or how I replied, I was too mortified trying to control the blush that was colour-washing my whole body. So humiliating.
He had good teeth, even, with a slight gap in the middle, a large mouth. I couldn’t tell whether his eyes were blue or brown, a mix perhaps. His hair was grey, cut extremely short. He laughed at something I said. Or maybe he was laughing at me. At last he turned back to Diane. I tried to compose myself.
“Catch you later,” he said.
I felt sick. As he moved away the volume of noise from the punters at the bar seemed to mushroom. Another crowd came in, the girls wore what passed for underwear in my day and the boys looked ready for the ski slopes, all thick fleeces and puffer jackets. They clustered by our table. We were hemmed in.
“So, what do you think?” Diane asked.
“I prefer our usual. It’s too loud and it’s hardly relaxing. I’m ready for off.”
She narrowed her eyes at me.
“What?”
“Stuart. What do you think of Stuart.”
So that was it. She’d lured me here to weigh up a new conquest of hers – or someone she’d got her eye on.
“Don’t you think you’ve got enough on your plate?” I pulled my jacket on.
“Not me. You.”
It was my turn to glare. “Diane! What do you think you were…” raising my voice above the racket made me cough as the smoke caught in my throat.
I fought my way out and she followed. We went round to the car-park where our bikes were.
“What did you tell him?” I was all outrage.
“Nothing, give me some credit. But if you’re interested I can always invite him to something.”