Families and Friendships (16 page)

They had hired a group; four local lads who called themselves the Groovy Guys. They sang and played guitars and drums, in a mixture of the style of the Beatles, and of the rather more outlandish Rolling Stones. Beatlemania as such was now a thing of the past, but their songs were still widely played. A female vocalist called Sally Diamond – an aspiring Cilla Black – would be performing as well.

Debbie and Shirley had been shopping in Newcastle to buy new clothes for the party. Debbie had saved up quite a lot from her earnings at the garden centre; she had to admit she was lucky because her mother let her keep most of it for herself. Shirley had a Saturday job at a newsagents' shop near her home, and she did a spot of babysitting now and again for neighbours.

First of all they went to C and A. They didn't know whether to go for minis or maxis, but as Carol had told them it would be quite an informal occasion they decided on mini dresses. Debbie chose one in bright orange, almost what they were calling psychedelic, with a swirling pattern in black and white. Shirley, always more conservative in dress, went for a plain shift-style in kingfisher blue with lace at the sleeve edges and neckline.

They went to Stead and Simpson's next for new shoes. Heels were becoming thicker and not so high now; possibly less flattering to the legs, but fashionable and certainly easier to dance in. They both chose black patent leather. Shirley's had ankle-straps, and Debbie's had squarish toes with a large petersham bow decoration. They both already had shoulder bags with chain straps, and large white clip-on earrings from Woolworth's added the finishing touch.

‘You look very nice, pet,' Debbie's mother told her when she came downstairs, ready for the evening out, after more than an hour spent in the bathroom and bedroom. Perhaps she glanced a mite critically at her daughter's make-up and hairstyle, but she did not pass any comment. It had taken Debbie ages, backcombing and lacquering and teasing her fringe into shape to get the desired effect, and she was wearing more eye make-up than usual. She had used the mascara and green eyeshadow liberally, and had experimented with eyeliner, which she hadn't tried before.

Her mother nodded, whether in approval or disapproval Debbie was not sure, but at least she smiled at her in a cosy, motherly sort of way. ‘Won't you be cold, though, in that sleeveless dress?' she enquired. ‘Hadn't you better take a cardigan in case it turns chilly?'

‘A cardigan! Nobody wears cardigans, Mum.' Debbie laughed. ‘They're dead old-fashioned. No; I shall wear this.' She held up a shawl that she had bought from a second-hand clothing shop. It was a lacy design, crocheted in black wool, and where there were one or two larger holes that shouldn't be there she had mended them with black cotton. ‘It's a stole,' she said, draping it round her shoulders. ‘It looks great, doesn't it?'

‘Well, it's what I would call a shawl,' smiled her mother. ‘But … yes, it does look rather nice.'

There was a ring at the doorbell. ‘That'll be Kevin with the taxi,' said Debbie. ‘Bye, Mum.' She kissed her briefly on the cheek. ‘Bye, Dad.' Stanley was hidden behind the evening paper.

‘Bye, pet. Have a nice time,' he called.

‘Don't wait up for me,' said Debbie to her mother, who had insisted on going to the door with her. It'll probably be late … ish.'

‘You know I always wait up,' said Vera. ‘I wouldn't sleep anyway, until you were safely back home.' She opened the door to Kevin. ‘Hello, Kevin. I hope you both have a lovely time.'

‘Thank you, Mrs Hargreaves; I'm sure we will,' he said politely, adding, ‘Don't worry, I'll look after Debbie.'

Debbie scowled a little. It wasn't the first time he had said that recently. Did he think she was a child in the infant school? ‘I can look after myself, you know!' she hissed at him as they got into the taxi.

‘I know you can,' he replied, putting his arm round her in the back of the cab. There was no hint of reproach in his voice, and she realized she was taking it out on him whereas it was her mother she was annoyed with. Waiting up for her indeed! ‘I was just trying to show your mother that I'm not such a bad sort, that's all.' He grinned at her. ‘And I must say you look lovely tonight, Debbie.'

‘Thank you,' she said, snuggling closer to him. ‘You don't look so bad yourself. New jacket, eh?'

‘Yes, d'you like it? My mum said it was a bit too mod, but that's mothers for you, isn't it?' He was wearing a suede jacket in a russet brown colour, with a fringe at the bottom edge, teamed with black trousers with a slight flare, a pale blue shirt with a high collar, and a wide ‘kipper' tie with a floral design in black and blue. She had never seen him look so trendy.

‘I think it's fab,' she told him, her ill humour fading away.

She had never been inside Sandylands, before and she was impressed by the grandeur of the place. As they entered through the swing doors into the spacious foyer both Carol and Sandra were there to greet them. She noticed they were both wearing long skirts rather than minis, and wondered if she might have made the wrong decision, but then she noticed some more girls, in short dressed such as hers, standing near by.

‘Hello! So glad you could come!' Carol flung her arms round Debbie in an effusive manner. ‘And you too, Kevin.' She smiled at him.

‘Hello, Carol,' he said. ‘And … Sandra. D'you remember me?' he asked the older girl. ‘Kelder Bank, but I left two years ago.'

Sandra looked at him before exclaiming, ‘Kevin Hill! Yes, of course I remember you. You went to work for your father, didn't you, at that garden place?'

‘Yes, Sunnyhill, that's right.'

Sandra looked from him to Debbie. ‘So, you and Debbie … you're going out together, are you?'

‘Yes, we are,' said Debbie, with a confident nod.

‘Er … yes, sort of,' added Kevin. He heard Debbie's indrawn breath. ‘Well, yes, I suppose we are. Debbie works at our place in the holidays. That's how I met her and we … got friendly.'

Debbie got hold of his arm to pull him away.

‘Catch up with you later then, Kevin,' called Sandra.

‘Yeh … see you,' he answered.

Carol showed them into a large room at the rear of the hotel. There were small tables round the sides, a large table with drinks at one end, and at the other end the band members were setting up their equipment.

‘Come on, let's bag some seats while we can,' said Kevin. ‘They'll soon fill up.' Debbie was already heading towards the table where Shirley and Ryan were sitting.

‘May we join you?' she asked.

‘Yes, please do,' said Shirley, throwing an angry sideways glance at Ryan, who was standing up to greet Kevin. ‘Me and Ryan have had words,' she whispered to her friend.

‘Then that'll make two of us,' Debbie whispered back. ‘Honestly! I could kill Kevin!'

‘Why, what's he done?'

‘Tell you later … What's up with Ryan?'

‘Can't say just now …'

The two lads were standing there chatting in a friendly way. They had met before a couple of times and had seemed to get on well together. They smiled at the girls now as though there was nothing wrong.

‘What do you two girls want to drink?' asked Ryan. ‘Carol says her dad's laid on plenty of booze for us … Well, Babycham and lager, shandies and fruit juice; all that sort of stuff. No spirits though. He says there's enough to last us the night, but when it's done then that's your lot! He's making sure things don't get out of hand.'

‘Quite decent of him all the same,' said Kevin. ‘Come on, Debs,' he said in an aside to her. ‘Snap out of it! What do you want? A Babycham?'

‘No; just an orange juice, please,' she answered primly.

‘OK; suit yerself!'

‘I'll have a Babycham, please, Kevin,' said Shirley.

The two lads went off to the drinks table leaving the girls to have a hurried conversation.

‘Would you believe it!' Debbie began. ‘He actually hinted to Sandra Robson that we're not really going out together. After all this time! I think he fancies his chances with her, actually.'

‘No, he couldn't! And what about Ryan, eh? He's only going hiking with some friends next weekend, and he'd said he'd go to my cousin's wedding with me, in Whitby. I thought it was all arranged, but he said he never promised. Anyway, they're not going to spoil our evening, are they? We'll show them we can still enjoy ourselves.' Shirley put a conspiratorial arm around her friend.

‘Yes, I suppose so,' said Debbie. But she was still very vexed with Kevin.

It was a lively party with Jeff, one of the Groovy Guys, acting as compère. Dancing was very much a case of doing your own thing. Quicksteps and foxtrots – dances they had heard their parents talk about – were things of the past. There were communal dances, like ‘March of the Mods', and the still popular hokey-cokey when everyone stamped and shouted, getting into the party mood. But the dancing mainly consisted of twisting and shaking, gyrating and arm waving and rolling of hips. You could dance opposite a partner, or in a group, or on your own.

They danced to ‘Love Me Do', ‘Twist and Shout', ‘Can't buy me love', ‘I Can't Get No Satisfaction' … to the accompaniment of guitars and drums and the shrill voices of the Groovy Guys, who were quite a fair alternative to the more famous bands. And Sally Diamond with the beehive hairstyle, kohl black eyes and white lips sang that the times were a changing, and invited them to ‘Step Inside Love'.

Debbie tried to talk to Kevin – what did he mean by hinting to Sandra that they were not really ‘going out'? – but he brushed her off.

‘For heaven's sake, let it drop, Debbie!' he told her. ‘I'm here with you, aren't I? What more d'you want? It isn't as if we're going to get engaged or anything. I can talk to other girls if I want to.'

And so he did, at supper time, when the guests were invited to help themselves from the buffet table. It was a sumptuous spread. Daintily cut sandwiches and vol-au-vents; chicken legs, sausages on sticks; quiches and salads. And for afters, raspberry pavlova, Black Forest gateau, or sherry trifle. Kevin gravitated towards Sandra, and the two of them sat together in a corner chatting and laughing, no doubt reminiscing about old times. Not all that long ago, though; it was only two years since Kevin had left school, and from what he had told Debbie he couldn't wait to get away. Things seemed better looking back on them, she supposed.

By this time she had given up on the orange juice and had had a Babycham and a cider, which had made her feel that she wasn't all that bothered what Kevin was doing. She had danced as though she hadn't a care in the world, and Shirley had done the same. Debbie noticed Ryan dancing with Wendy Perkins, a girl from their form who had a reputation for being rather ‘fast'; she had ‘been with' most of the lads in their form and several of the sixth formers as well, or so she said. But some of the girls, Debbie included, were not quite sure what she was implying. Shirley didn't seem to have noticed, or maybe she was pretending not to do so.

At supper time she joined Shirley and two more girls from their form, and very soon two of the Groovy Guys – Jeff, the compère, and Max, the lead guitarist – joined them and asked how they were enjoying the entertainment. ‘Fabulous!' they all agreed, putting in several requests for later.

‘Have you made it up with Ryan?' Debbie asked her friend.

‘Sort of …' Shirley gave a shrug. ‘I don't much care at the moment. I'm enjoying myself.'

‘Where is Ryan now?' asked Debbie. ‘I know where Kevin is. Look – he's chatting up Sandra Robson; not that I'm bothered.'

‘I expect Ryan's gone out for a fag,' said Shirley. ‘Come on, let's go to the washroom, if you've finished eating.'

The ladies' room was a very stylish place with pale pink loos and wash basins, pink fluffy towels and full length mirrors. Debbie could feel a headache threatening, so she decided to go outside and get a breath of fresh air. French windows opened out from the room where the party was being held, on to the garden at the rear of the hotel. She stood for a moment on the veranda, enjoying the coolness of the night air. There were one or two couples in the garden below.

She caught sight of a ginger head near a clump of bushes – it could only by Ryan with hair that colour – and a blonde head near to him. She thought for a moment that it was Shirley, but she had only just left Shirley in the toilets. And this girl was wearing a bright pink dress, not a blue one. It was Wendy Perkins … She saw their heads come close together in a long kiss.

She turned quickly and went inside, not wanting to see any more. What should she do? Should she tell Shirley? Supposing it was Kevin snogging with someone else? Would she want to know? Of course she would. On the other hand, Shirley was enjoying herself and it wouldn't be fair to spoil the evening for her. And it might only be a one-off with Wendy and Ryan. Wendy had such a reputation for flirting. Debbie did have a nice side to her. She felt sorry for her friend now and decided she would say nothing.

Still, she knew what she had seen, and who could tell when it might come in handy? She and Ryan pretended to get on together for Shirley's sake, but she knew that Ryan did not really like her, Debbie, very much, though she was not sure why. But she would keep what she knew to herself, for the moment, at least.

‘Where have you been?' asked Shirley when she joined her again. ‘You just disappeared.'

‘I went outside for a while,' she answered. ‘I felt I had a headache coming on, but it seems to have gone now. I'm ready to start enjoying myself again. What about another Babycham, eh?'

‘Oh, I don't know,' said Shirley. ‘I've had two already. I'd better stick to fruit juice. Carol says her dad's trusting us to behave ourselves. Oh … hi there, Ryan. Where've you been?' Ryan had just joined them, and Debbie noticed that Wendy was at the other side of the room with another group.