by A J McDine
I waited a few seconds before I thrust the Land Rover’s gearstick into first and set off again. When I reached the car park, the Subaru was still sitting on my bumper and I was wondering if I’d been a little foolhardy. It was apparent the man had anger management issues. What if he was a complete psycho with a knife in his glove compartment?
I found a space and turned off the ignition. The Subaru pulled up behind me. Playing for time, I ferreted around in my bag for an old lipstick, flipped down the sun visor and pretended to apply it while watching the man jump from the driver’s seat, slam the door shut and march towards me.
Chapter Thirteen
SEPTEMBER 1990
* * *
Saturdays were our day until Juliet met that charmless fucker Danny Reeves a week into the first term of our third year. After that, Saturdays mainly involved me hanging around like a fifth wheel while they shamelessly mauled each other.
For the life of me, I couldn’t see what she saw in him. Juliet was a product of her middle-class upbringing and her prestigious public school. Indulged by her parents, she’d led a charmed life. She was beautiful, confident, articulate, self-assured. Danny was a working-class hero from a Hackney tower block. He was loud and brash. His swagger barely concealed the deep-rooted chippiness beneath his muscle-bound shoulders. Julia joked he was her bit of rough, but couldn’t she see she deserved so much better? He was so obviously a player he might as well have had the word tattooed on his forehead.
The one time I’d tried to warn her against him, she’d narrowed her eyes and said, ‘Anyone would think you were jealous. Are you jealous, Rose?’
I was, of course. But not in the way she thought. And so, I watched and waited, hoping her obsession with him was a phase, that she’d tire of him eventually, and when she did, I would be ready to pick up the pieces.
Danny was a third-year sports science student who had a part-time job as a lifeguard at the local lido, although he spent more time eyeing up the local talent and topping up his tan than he ever spent saving lives. They’d been seeing each other for a couple of months when Juliet spotted a flyer for the student union’s Christmas piss-up. By then Juliet and I were sharing a house on the outskirts of town with three girls from her History of Art course. She burst into my tiny room overlooking the handkerchief-sized back garden and waved the flyer in my face.
‘Look, a Snow Ball!’ she said, as excited as a five-year-old on Christmas morning. ‘With snow machines and a Santa’s grotto.’
I took the flyer and raised an eyebrow. ‘And a reindeer rodeo and free Santa hats. Wow.’
‘I’ve bought four tickets,’ she said.
‘Four?’
‘Danny has a mate…’
I groaned. ‘Not another blind date. I’ve told you, I’m not interested.’
‘No, really, Johnno’s lovely. Very studious. And he has a wicked sense of humour. You two are going to get on like a house on fire.’
‘Johnno?’ I rolled my eyes. The name conjured a beer-swilling rugger bugger, not someone with whom I might have a half-decent conversation.
‘Johnno,’ Juliet repeated. ‘You can borrow my green dress. It really suits you. And I’ll do your hair and makeup if you like. Please, Rose.’
‘You’ve got Danny. Why are you so desperate for me to come?’
‘So I have someone to talk to if he gets a better offer.’ Seeing the look on my face, she held up a hand. ‘I’m joking, obviously.’ Her gaze flickered to the door. ‘Danny wants you and Johnno to hit it off, so you’ll spend less time hanging around with us.’
Her words were like arrows to my heart. ‘You don’t want me around?’
‘That’s not what I said. But it would be nice to spend time as a couple, yes. And I keep telling you it’s about time you had some fun. So, will you come?’ She clasped her hands under her chin as if she was praying.
It was a rhetorical question because we both knew I could never say no to Juliet.
‘All right then,’ I muttered ungraciously. ‘I’ll come.’
The student union’s Snow Ball was as tawdry as I’d feared. The bouncers wore Santa suits and scantily clad girls dressed as Christmas elves shimmied up and down the queue handing out cheap felt Santa hats. Inside, the so-called snow machine pumped out foam while the DJ, a silicone-enhanced “celebrity” from a local radio station, pumped out dance music. The air was dense with cigarette smoke and the floor was slick with spilt beer.
We’d arranged to meet Danny and Johnno inside and, spying them by the bar, Juliet grabbed my arm and dragged me over. The man standing next to Danny was unremarkable looking with light brown hair, heavy glasses and girlishly narrow shoulders. As we approached, Danny gave him a nudge, spilling the pint he was holding down his striped shirt. He swept away the beer ineffectually, then held out a hand.
‘You must be Rose,’ he hollered over the music. ‘I’m John. Nice to meet you.’
I let him buy me a Jack Daniels and Coke and followed the three of them to a booth with an uninterrupted view of the stage. My mouth twitched with disapproval as Danny picked up a reserved sign on the table and flung it into a corner. He really was insufferable. I sat primly, my knees together and my drink clasped in my lap, while John shouted in my ear.
‘Danny says you’re a medic. I’m doing computer science. Bit of a nerd, I’m afraid.’ His girlish shoulders rose and fell in a self-conscious shrug.
‘How do you know Danny?’ I yelled back.
‘I lived next to him in halls.’ He gave the glimmer of a smile. ‘He only ever calls when he wants something.’
‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’
We watched Danny give Juliet’s knee a squeeze, then weave through the clubbers to the female DJ. He leaned towards her, cupped a hand to her ear, and whispered something. In response, she threw her head back in laughter, her bare throat exposed. Next to me, Juliet stiffened.
‘He doesn’t mean any harm,’ John bellowed.
‘That’s what the British Establishment used to say about the Third Reich, and look what happened there,’ I countered.
He laughed. ‘Touché.’
‘So, let me guess what Danny wanted this time,’ I said. ‘He wanted you to get off with me, so I back off and give him and Juliet a bit of space.’
He took a sip of his beer and regarded me. ‘You’re pretty direct, aren’t you, Rose?’
‘What’s the point pussyfooting about? But his plan won’t work, you know. I’m not interested. Never will be, I’m afraid. It’s nothing personal.’
He frowned, then his eyes widened in understanding. ‘Doesn’t mean we can’t still enjoy ourselves,’ he said eventually, tipping his pint towards me.
I smiled properly for the first time that evening as I clinked glasses with him. ‘D’you know what? You’re right.’
‘More booze?’ he asked, glancing at Juliet, who was watching Danny flirt with the DJ with a look of miserable resignation on her face. ‘To numb the pain?’
I drained my glass and handed it to him. ‘Why the hell not?’
When alcohol enters the bloodstream, it can reach the brain in five minutes, stimulating the release of dopamine and serotonin, the so-called feel-good hormones. Inhibitions fall away and the drinker feels happy and confident. Blood vessels widen, leading to flushed skin and a feeling of warmth. Everything has a rosy glow.
That’s how I felt after four more Jack Daniels. I was the life and soul of the party, pulling Juliet and John onto the dance floor. For a straight man, John was a surprisingly good dancer, whereas Juliet, who usually loved to dance, was as wooden as a marionette, her eyes continually roving for Danny, who’d disappeared muttering something about scoring some Es and hadn’t been seen since. The celebrity DJ had also sloped off, leaving a spotty youth manning the decks.
Good, I thought fuzzily as I bopped around like a ball bearing in a pinball machine. Perhaps Juliet would realise Danny was a grade A shit, and she was better off without him.
�
�Why is Danny such an arsehole?’ I shouted to John. But he only smiled and nodded and went in search of more drinks.
An hour and another three Jack Daniels later, I had lost one shoe and both my dancing partners. I made my way unsteadily to the bar, ordered a bottle of wine and two glasses and stumbled over to our seats. Juliet was alone, and I sat heavily beside her.
‘Blue Nun,’ I said, thrusting the bottle into her hands. ‘For old times’ sake.’
‘That’s very sweet, but I’m going to head home.’
‘But it’s only eleven!’
‘I’m really tired.’
‘Tired my arse. You dragged me here even though I didn’t want to come. The least you can do is stay.’
‘But I can’t find Danny. What if something’s happened to him?’
I stared at her. ‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know, like he’s taken a dodgy E or something. It’s not like him to just disappear.’
‘How can you say that?’ I said belligerently. ‘You’ve only known him five minutes. You don’t know what he’s like.’
Her fingers worried at the delicate gold chain around her neck, and I found myself softening. I reached out and took her hand in mine. ‘Don’t worry. He’s a big boy. He can look after himself.’
She was silent for a moment, then sighed. ‘You’re right.’
‘So, will you have a glass of Blue Nun with me?’
‘Go on then,’ she said. ‘Just the one.’
One became two, and two became three, and before long we were on our second bottle, both as drunk as skunks.
‘Did you know that alcohol causes your blood vessels to widen when it enters your bloodstream?’ I asked Juliet. Her pupils were pinpricks as she struggled to focus on my face. ‘Then it depresses your central nervous system, messing with your brain’s communication pathways. That’s what makes you slur and fall over.’
‘I haven’t fallen over,’ she said indignantly.
‘Not yet,’ I said, refilling her glass. ‘Alcohol suppresses the hormone vasopressin, which means the kidneys release more water, making you pee more.’
‘Speaking of which,’ she said, struggling to her feet. She held out a hand. ‘Coming, Doctor Rose?’
We stumbled around the edge of the dance floor arm in arm, heading for the loos. I stared at my face in the mirror above the sink. It was like looking into the face of a stranger. A stranger with dishevelled red hair, flushed skin and glittering eyes framed by the charcoal-black eyeshadow Juliet had applied before we’d left our digs.
‘Looking hot, chick,’ she said, blowing me a kiss before she cannoned into a cubicle. As she peed, I ran my fingers through my tangles, sniffed an armpit and blew into my palm to check my breath.
‘Shit,’ Juliet said in a muffled voice. ‘Do you have a tampon?’
‘In my bag,’ I said. ‘I’ll get it. Won’t be a sec.’
I pushed my way back through the scrum to our table and grabbed my bag. As I turned to go, I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder, and I spun around.
‘Rose,’ John said, peering myopically at me. ‘I have drunk enough to sink a battleship, and I’m going home. It was nice to meet you.’
‘Do you know where Danny is?’ I asked.
He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
‘John,’ I repeated. ‘Where’s Danny?’
He tugged on an earlobe as his gaze slid to the spotty youth on the decks. ‘He’s, er, otherwise engaged.’
‘Otherwise engaged with who?’
He shook his head. ‘No one.’
‘John!’ I said sternly. ‘Just bloody tell me. Who is Danny otherwise engaged with?’
He sighed. ‘The DJ. Not that one,’ he said hurriedly as I glanced at the stage. ‘The blonde one. I went outside for a fag and saw them getting into a taxi. They were all over each other.’
‘What about Juliet?’ I cried, outraged.
He grabbed my shoulder again. ‘You’re not going to tell her?’
‘Of course I am,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘She has a right to know.’
Sobering up, I pushed him away and ran towards the toilets. ‘It’s me,’ I said, pushing the door open. I held a tampon under the cubicle door.
‘Thanks,’ Juliet said, snatching it up. Moments later, the door swung inwards and she lurched over to the sink. Her face had turned white with a greenish tinge. ‘I feel like shit,’ she said. Her eyes widened, and she clamped her hand over her mouth.
‘Are you going to puke?’
She nodded, and I steered her back into the cubicle and held her hair while she decorated the toilet bowl with the contents of her stomach.
‘Urghh,’ she groaned, retching and coughing. ‘That bloody eponymous nun.’
Touched beyond words that she remembered, I stroked her back until the coughing stopped and she sat back on her haunches.
‘Come and wash your face. It’ll make you feel better.’ I ran the tap, and she bent over the sink and gargled before splashing her face with cold water. I handed her a stick of chewing gum.
‘Thank you,’ she said in a small voice.
I rubbed her arm. It bristled with goosebumps. ‘Shall we go home?’ I said.
‘But what about Danny?’
‘He’s left already.’
She gripped the edge of the sink. ‘How d’you know?’
‘John told me.’
‘John’s wrong. He wouldn’t have gone without me.’
I wavered for a moment, then reached a decision. I would derive no pleasure from telling her, but she had to know. ‘He went home with that blonde DJ. John saw them leaving in a taxi together.’
She reared away from me. ‘You’re lying!’
‘I’m not, I promise. Ask the kid she left on stage if you don’t believe me.’
‘All right, I will.’ She pushed past me to the door and I scurried after her, watching from the edge of the dance floor as she climbed onto the stage and tapped the spotty-faced kid on the shoulder. He lifted a headphone and listened, then nodded and pointed towards the doors. I didn’t need to be able to lipread to know what he’d told her because the slump in her shoulders said it all. I went to our seats, gathered our bags and coats, and met her at the bottom of the steps to the stage.
‘Come on,’ I said, holding out her coat. ‘Let’s get you home.’
Back at our student digs, I made us both a mug of cocoa and shepherded Juliet into the tiny front room. I lit the gas fire and joined her on the sofa. We sat in silence for a while, sipping our drinks in the half-darkness, then Juliet sighed.
‘I’m done with men. They’re all bastards.’
I felt a flutter deep in my belly. ‘You’ve just been unlucky.’
‘The thing is, I really thought Danny was The One.’
‘Danny?’ I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice.
‘I know you’ve never liked him, but there was this chemistry between us.’ She gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘I know it’s a cliché, but it felt right, you know? That we were meant to be together. That we fitted, two halves of a pair. How wrong can you be?’ She placed her mug on the floor, rested her head on my shoulder and stared into the fire.
I shifted my weight towards her and tucked my legs under me. ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself. Agreed, he’s a prick. But there are decent blokes out there.’ I thought for a bit. ‘John seemed nice.’
‘I told you, I’m not interested.’
I’d longed to hear those words since the day Juliet walked into my room in halls looking like a Just Seventeen model. Holding my breath, I picked up her hand and began tracing circles on the inside of her wrist with my index finger, round and round.
‘Mm, that’s nice,’ she said sleepily, her head heavy on my shoulder. ‘You were right about him,’ she added. ‘You’re always right, Rosie. What would I do without you?’
Pleasure flooded my body and I bent my head until my lips brushed her hair. Something told me it was now or never.
‘
Juliet?’ I murmured.
‘Mmm?’
I stroked her cheek then turned her chin towards mine and kissed her lightly on the lips. They were soft, yielding. My heart banging in my chest, I closed my eyes and kissed her again. But something was wrong. She was shaking her head, pulling back, pushing me away. For a second our eyes locked, and I saw a flare of revulsion, then she turned away.
‘I thought you…’ I began, my voice barely above a whisper.
‘No, Rose. God, no. No! Whatever made you think I would…?’ She jumped to her feet and crossed the room, as if she couldn’t bear to be near me.
‘You said you were done with men. I thought you meant… I thought there was a chance of you and me… of us,’ I finished lamely.
‘No,’ she said, still shaking her head as she half-ran out of the room. ‘Never.’
I knew it was futile to go after her. So, I crumpled to the ground, tears coursing down my cheeks as I realised with equal measures of shame and sorrow that I’d ruined everything.
Chapter Fourteen
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled and something my mother used to say came back to me.
‘You think you’re clever, Rose, but remember, no one likes a smart-arse. One day it’ll be your downfall, you mark my words.’
‘Silly old bat,’ I muttered as I pretended to busy myself putting the top back on the lipstick, taking my keys out of the ignition and gathering my bag. I sneaked another look in the mirror. There was no sign of SUV Man and I tipped my head back and closed my eyes for a moment, relief washing over me. He was probably half-way to the nearest pub or betting shop already. He looked the type.
But as I reached for the door handle, I gasped as a face peered through the window. SUV Man was so close I could see the veins in his temples bulging and flecks of spittle at the corners of his mouth. He banged the window with his fist and yelled, ‘Oi, I want a word with you!’
