“Daisy,” said Daisy, quietly, coming to her aid.
“Yeah, that’s it - Daisy! Aren’t you her?” Asking the question even after being prompted and knowing now that quite obviously she was.
“Yes. It’s me. Hello, Pippa - how are you?”
“Bloody hell! I thought it was. What are you doing here?” Screamed Pippa, not answering the question.
As Daisy moved closer, she could now see that Pippa was heavily made-up with glossy red lipstick, thick black mascara and bright blue eye-shadow. But what was most noticeable were her boobs. Pippa had always been extremely gifted in the chest department, but now they were positively enormous and obviously false. Blimey, she’s had a boob job! Daisy suddenly realised, which just seemed utterly amazing and not something she thought Pippa would ever require such were the impressive nature of her previously all natural charms.
But there she was with a pair of monstrously massive, bazooka-sized bosoms that were all but bursting out of her broad-shouldered bolero.
However, Daisy fought to tear her eyes away from them as she answered Pippa’s question, “I live here now. In Stockport.”
“You don’t!”
“I do.”
“Bloody hell!” Shrieked Pippa again. “Me, too! Well, not Stockport but here, in Manchester.”
“Really? I heard that you were up in Scotland somewhere,” said Daisy, praying that Steve Cool wasn’t going to make an appearance at any moment - fearing for what she might do if he did, her face burning red at the mere thought of it.
“No, not any more. I was though, for a while - this one was born there, weren’t you darlin’,” Pippa said, tickling her little boy’s tummy as she referred to him. “We live here now - me, him and his new daddy - don’t we sweetheart,” she said, talking to the child again.
“New daddy?” Replied Daisy, the words coming out before she could stop them.
“Yeah, well - you know about Steve I suppose?”
“Er, no,” said Daisy innocently, hoping that Pippa didn’t know of her disastrous dalliance with the delectable yet dishonourable dickhead, Steve, in Lloret.
“Well then, you’re lucky ‘cos I wish I didn’t either.”
“Really, why?” Daisy couldn’t help the question even though she knew, for the most part, what the reason surely was.
“Why?” Pippa sighed, “Cos he left me with this little bundle of joy - not that I’d be without him now of course - but it hasn’t been all fun and games.
“Steve walked out on me when I got pregnant, said he ‘didn’t want kids’. He left me with no money and owing three months rent on our flat.”
“Oh, no, that’s awful,” said Daisy, sorry now that she’d asked.
“That’s not the worst of it,” Pippa continued, “He left me living in the middle of a Glasgow tenement block with not a friend in the world. We moved up there to be nearer to his family, yet he buggered off shortly after we arrived.”
“Crikey—” Daisy began but Pippa was on a roll and more than happy to vent.
“He ran off to Ibiza,” she said, “leaving no word about where he was but through friends in Bradley I managed to track him down. But then he legged it again to Spain, after refusing point blank to send me any money to help pay for nappies, or milk, or steriliser - or anything that might help with the baby - not to mention any offer of maintenance to help support me.
“I got word a few weeks ago that he’s done a runner from Spain, too, now - owes a load of money to some bar owner there apparently. God only knows where he is now but I’m passed caring, I’ve moved on, got myself a new man, someone I can rely on. He was the one that held my hand when the baby was born, the one who took us in, put a roof over our heads and money in my pocket - not Steve bloody Cool.”
Pippa thought for a moment, then fixed Daisy with an inquisitive stare, “Say, didn’t you used to have the hots for him at school?” she said.
Daisy felt herself flush again. “Er, yeah, briefly I think. It was all a very long time ago though,” she lied.
“Yeah, well, close escape I reckon. As I said, think yourself lucky.”
“I do, yes,” Daisy concurred, grateful that she found out what Steve was like before she made the same mistakes as Pippa.
“So what are you doing now then, here in Manchester, I mean?” Daisy said, still unable to believe that Pippa Wilson was sitting in her cafe.
“I work here - well, sort of. My boyfriend’s got a company here and I work there part time - whenever he needs me. I moved in with him a few months back.”
“Oh, wow, that’s great - what sort of business is he in?”
Pippa glanced around to check that no one else was within earshot, then leaned towards Daisy conspiratorially, “It’s adult stuff mainly. He makes a few videos - X-rated but tasteful, if you know what I mean—”
“Oh.” Daisy couldn’t disguise her shock.
“He’s got a few shops too - selling sex toys - y’know, vibros, dildos, things like that - as well as nudie mags and videos, too, of course.”
“Oh.” Daisy said again, once more feeling herself colouring up.
“Yeah, he earns a packet out of it - got a lovely house, a Merc - he even paid for me to have these done—” Pippa suddenly clutched her enormous fake fun bags, “—you wouldn’t believe how much they cost but he loves ‘em. I wasn’t bothered but if it makes him happy then who am I to moan. Course, they also look great on film, which isn’t a bad thing—”
“Film?” Daisy sputtered.
“Yeah, didn’t I tell you? I thought I did. Now and again he puts me in one of his little movies - I’ve got quite a few fans now,” Pippa said proudly, “I’m sort of semi-famous in a quiet little way I suppose - although I reckon I’m more recognisable with my clothes off than on - if you get my drift!”
“Blimey. That’s er—” Daisy was struggling to find the right words, “—really, er, great - good for you.”
“Yeah, it’s alright. Life’s good - no thanks to Steve bloody Cool, who can take a long walk of a short pier for all I care.”
“Quite right.”
“Anyway,” Pippa said, changing the subject. “What about you? What are you doing here?”
“Me?”
“Mmm hmm, what brings you to Manchester.”
“Oh, er, nothing much, not really,” Daisy said, “I travelled for a bit after leaving school, then met a pair of really lovely girls and we all sort of moved in together a little while ago. We live just down the road.”
Pippa looked her up and down as she registered this information. “Girls, eh?” She said at last.
“Oh, no - it’s not like that,” Daisy tried to explain, “Well, it is for them, but not for me - we’re all just friends, that’s all. They’re gay, I’m not.”
Pippa took a moment to digest this, as if deciding whether to believe it or not before at last coming to the conclusion that she did.
“You’ve certainly blossomed,” she said finally, “I’ll give you that. You’re nothing like that mousey looking girl with the flat chest and big hair that I remember from school.”
It was sort of a back-handed compliment but Daisy said, “Thanks,” anyway.
“It’s a good job you didn’t look like you do now back then,” Pippa continued, “Cos I reckon I might have had some serious competition if you did.”
Daisy smiled. Strangely, it was perhaps one of the nicest things anyone had ever said to her - to finally be validated by none other than Pippa Wilson herself really meant something to her - even now, which seemed absolutely ridiculous. However, it felt good nonetheless.
“I could get you a job if you like,” Pippa then said. “My fella’s always on the look out for hot, young girls to star in his movies - it’s great money - you could make loads in no time - the guys will love you I guarantee it.”
Daisy
turned a deep shade of beetroot. “No, no, it’s alright, honestly. It’s so nice of you to say, but I’m happy here - and I do some other stuff, too, so I really wouldn’t have the time - but thanks anyway.” In truth, she could think of nothing worse and didn’t know how Pippa, herself, did it, taking her clothes off on film for men to ogle over her - although she always had been a bit wild and sexually ambiguous.
“Fair enough, it’s up to you,” shrugged Pippa, “but the offer’s there.”
“Thanks, but no.”
“So if your not gay,” Pippa said, changing the subject yet again, “have you got a boyfriend?”
“Hah, no. Not at the moment - I’m off men for the time being.”
“Bad experience, huh?”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“Then I don’t blame you - I know all about bad experiences only too well - as this little chap can certify,” Pippa said, stroking her baby’s pudgy hand.”
“He’s adorable,” said Daisy, “so sweet.”
“Thanks. He is isn’t he?”
Daisy nodded and bent down to coo at the cute baby in the buggy.
“Talking of sweet boys,” Pippa said, “You ever see Gordy Brewer nowadays?”
Suddenly Daisy stood up sharply, feeling as if she’d been slapped around the face, “Er, no! No I don’t, why?”
Pippa could tell she had struck a nerve. “Hey, no problem. Just asking that’s all. He was such a nice boy at school and I treated him badly. I suppose bad boys were just more my style back then - still are I suppose.”
“Yeah, I suppose. I don’t know, really.” Daisy felt awkward now, the mention of Gordy unsettling her, bringing back memories of that wonderful night in Magaluf and the horribleness of everything afterwards.
“You and Gordy were close at school weren’t you?” Pippa pressed.
“Er, yes, I suppose,” Daisy stammered, feeling extremely uncomfortable by this line of questioning. “At least for a time we were.”
“Still hung up on him, eh?” Pippa said perceptively.
“No. Not at all. What do you mean?” Daisy snapped.
“Hey, it’s alright, I understand. Guys get you like that - especially someone like Gordy - he was sweet and funny - and wore some great clothes. I sort of regret breaking up with him myself now.”
“Hmm,” was all Daisy could manage.
“I sort of thought that somehow you two would always end up together - I think a lot of people did. When the two of you were working in that record shop in Bradley you seemed like a couple—”
“Well we weren’t. I’m not in touch with Gordy anymore.”
“Okay, sorry!” Said Pippa. “I didn’t mean to pry - just thought you’d be good together, that’s all.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think there’s much chance of that.”
“Never say never, that’s my motto,” said Pippa, “Who knows, he might turn up here looking for you one of these days.”
“Ha! Maybe,” Daisy smiled, “But I’m not holding my breath.”
As she finished speaking, a sleek blue Mercedes pulled up next to the curb and a balding, paunchy, Egyptian looking man, with a thick, black Mexican tache and a blingy gold necklace climbed out of the driver’s seat.
“Ah, here’s Ahmed now, my fella. Looks like I’m not gonna have time for a coffee after all, sorry.”
Daisy stared in amazement, totally flabbergasted by the sight of the portly, fortyish medallion man heading towards them. That was Pippa’s new boyfriend? had she really swapped Steve Cool for him?
Steve Cool was an absolute bastard without a doubt and looks certainly weren’t everything - but the physical differences between Steve and Ahmed were startling - like comparing Adonis to an Orang Utan.
Yet Daisy couldn’t help but concede that love took many different forms and if Ahmed treated her well and Pippa was happy then more power to them both.
Pippa stood up as Ahmed came to meet her, giving her a kiss on the lips and a pat on the behind as he gathered up the little boy into his meaty arms, clearly delighted to see him.
“Ahmed, this is, er—” Pippa had clearly forgotten Daisy’s name again.
“Daisy.” Daisy said.
“Yeah, exactly. This is Daisy, Ahmed. A friend of mine from school.
Ahmed gave Daisy the once over, appraising her like a butcher would a side of beef. “Beautiful,” he said, his accent thick. “Really beautiful. It’s pleasure Daisy.” He then took her hand and kissed it gently. “You want job? I get you plenty work - make you plenty money - lots and lots of money?”
“Told you,” Pippa grinned proudly.
“No, thanks, I’m fine,” Daisy said, suddenly feeling flustered and very self-conscious.
“Sure? You pretty, you got great figure - could be star?”
Daisy shook her head shyly, “No, thanks,” she muttered again awkwardly.
“Ah, well, such a shame,” said Ahmed, resignedly, “Such a waste of beauty. But you change mind you look me up, okay?”
“Okay,” Daisy smiled shyly.
Pippa collapsed the buggy and Ahmed put it in the boot of the Merc, then strapped the little boy into the child’s seat in the back of the plush car.
“See you again, maybe” Ahmed said to Daisy with a meaningful wink before sliding back into the driver’s seat.
Pippa, grabbed Daisy by the shoulders and gave her two ‘air’ kisses on her cheeks. “Nice to see you,” she said. “And get back in touch with Gordy - make the effort ‘cos you never know what might happen!”
Daisy was about to respond but Pippa had already tottered over to the waiting Mercedes and opened the passenger door. “See you around Daisy - give my regards to Gordy when you see him!”
And then she was in the car and it was driving off, leaving Daisy on the pavement staring after it.
As she walked home at lunchtime after her shift, she thought about Pippa again, staggered by what she was doing with her life; shacked up with a middle-aged porn king and displaying a humongous pair of surgically-enhanced hooters, she was ‘acting’ in adult movies and bringing up the son of a man whose whereabouts were a mystery to her. But despite all that she seemed happy and settled and in a good place in her life.
Then Daisy thought about Gordy and what Pippa had said about their relationship you never know what might happen’.
It made Daisy think. It would be nice to get some sort of closure she supposed. To find out what really happened to Gordy in Magaluf and discover why he had left her like he did. Maybe then she could finally put to bed the feelings she had for him which, even though she had tried desperately to suppress them, were still there deep down inside.
She needed to know what it was she had done wrong. Simple as that.
Maybe at Christmas, when she went back to Bradley to meet up with her mum and dad, she would swing by Gordy’s house and settle things with him once and for all.
As Daisy climbed the stairs up to her little attic room, she decided that, yes, that was what she was going to do.
Chapter Twenty-Three
In his quest for a better life, Gordy received rejection letter after rejection letter, from record companies big and small, whilst some places didn’t even bother to reply at all.
But from most that did, the general consensus was that he was either too inexperienced or didn’t posses the relevant qualifications to work for their organisations.
Others said that they simply didn’t have the sufficient time needed to train him up - but, hey, thanks for asking.
It was all very depressing and Gordy was starting to lose all hope as he unwillingly trudged back and forth to his boring desk job at Bradley Town Council every day.
It was the same old drudgery, day in, day out, with the only respite from the dreary monotony being his time with Trevor. Indeed, over the course of the
Summer, they had a Star Wars marathon, watching all three movies back-to-back one Sunday, which Trevor owned on VHS, as well as an Indiana Jones afternoon, watching both Raiders of the Lost Ark and Temple of Doom one after the other.
They had also been to the pictures to watch Back To The Future which both of them thoroughly enjoyed. In addition, they had been to see The Goonies (great), Brazil (odd), The Jewel of the Nile (disappointing) and Weird Science (because Kelly LeBrock was in it and they thought she might get her kit off - she didn’t, or at least not all of them).
Gordy had even watched a few afternoon matinees with Barb, Singin’ In The Rain and Easter Parade being the most notable - and very enjoyable they were too - now that he was embracing his true self and no longer fretting about how ‘uncool’ it was to sit at home and watch musicals with his mum.
In fact, strange as it was, being uncool seemed actually quite cool.
Nonetheless, it had all helped Gordy put Daisy to the back of his mind. After all, there was simply nothing he could do to reverse the situation so he had no choice but to carry on.
However, things changed a little when Trevor was offered a job.
Towards the end of September, Trevor started work as the manager of Space Cadets, a memorabilia store at the car park end of the Arndale Centre, just off the High Street in Bradley.
Space Cadets sold posters, comics, action figures, movie related memorabilia such as T-shirts and collectibles and anything that a major geek would love which, of course, made it Trevor’s natural habitat and he took to his new role like a duck to water.
Yet it wasn’t Trevor’s job that changed things exactly, but more the assistant manager who already worked there.
Her name was Nyota Uhura (which would have been an incredible coincidence for someone so completely obsessed with Star Trek to have exactly the same name as the sexy Lieutenant in the TV series, had she not actually changed her name by deed poll so it was exactly the same). Nonetheless, Nyota (real name Marjorie Sidebottom) was a geek of the highest order, rivalled only by her new manager, Trevor Savoury, and when they met it was ‘moider’ (as Max, the chauffuer-cum-lacky-cum-general dogsbody from Hart to Hart might say). It was love at first sight - if not Hart to Hart then certainly Geek to Geek.
Jam Tops, the Fonz and the Pursuit of Cool Page 28
