Families and Friendships (17 page)

‘I went outside for a fag,' he said cheerfully, ‘but I'm here again now.' He grinned at Shirley. ‘Budge up and let me sit down.' He sat down next to Shirley, putting his arm round her.

The cheek of it! thought Debbie. She couldn't resist saying. ‘I went outside as well, Ryan. I had a headache but it's better now. It's lovely and cool out there, isn't it?' She smiled artlessly at him, feeling a moment of smug glee at the hint or warning in his eyes, as he tried to smile back at her.

‘Yes, it's a lovely evening,' he replied. ‘Er … what are you drinking, Debbie? And you, Shirley?'

‘Another Babycham for me,' said Debbie, rather too loudly. ‘Go on; you have one as well, Shirl.' But Shirley decided to stick to pineapple juice.

‘I'll go and get them,' said Ryan. ‘Coming, Kevin?' he added, as Kevin, to Debbie's surprise, came to join them.

‘Well, they've come back again, haven't they?' Shirley remarked. ‘We'd better pretend everything's all right, hadn't we?'

‘Whatever you say,' answered Debbie, then she burst out laughing.

‘Hey, steady on,' said her friend. But Debbie was feeling reckless all of a sudden, tired of conforming to what everyone expected her to do.

As the evening drew on a few more of the party, acquaintances rather than friends, joined the group. Kevin had returned to Debbie after his decision to show her that she couldn't take him for granted. He wasn't sure why he had said what he did to Sandra. He liked Debbie well enough, and they had had some good times together, but he had felt recently that he might be getting in too deep. She was only sixteen, and sometimes he felt that he was years and years older than she was. Debbie was really quite immature, despite the act she put on. He knew he had to stay there now and keep an eye on her. Her laughter was getting louder and shriller, almost hysterical.

He needed to pay a visit to the gents, though, and when he came back Debbie was sitting next to an older lad, one of the sixth formers. Kevin vaguely remembered him from his own time at the school. Sean … something or other; rather a loud-mouthed character with long black hair and an incipient moustache. He was smoking, and as Kevin watched he saw the lad pass the cigarette to Debbie. She took hold of it, put it to her lips and took a deep breath.

Kevin suddenly realized what it was. It wasn't an ordinary cigarette. How many drags had Debbie taken already whilst he was away for a few minutes? He leapt from his seat. ‘What the hell d'you think you're doing?' he shouted. ‘That's a joint, isn't it?' He snatched it away from Debbie, who pouted at him, then started giggling.

‘Get lost, Kevin!' she yelled. ‘What's it got to do with you? I'm having a good time.'

‘Yeh … cool it, man,' said Sean. ‘It's only hash; it's not harmful.'

Shirley suddenly woke up to what was happening. She had been preoccupied making up with Ryan again. ‘Debbie, you stupid girl! What d'you think you're playing at?' She turned her attention to Sean. ‘And you, Sean Pollock! Carol and Sandra'll go berserk if they see what you're doing, to say nothing of their dad. You'd best get rid of it, quick, before we're all turned out.'

‘Alright, alright; we'll be good boys, won't we, Chas?' said Sean to the lad next to him. He had the grace to look a mite ashamed. ‘Give it here,' he said to Kevin, who passed over the offending article. Sean stubbed it out and secreted it in his pocket. ‘All gone,' he said, spreading out his hands.

‘And you'd better go an' all,' said Kevin. ‘Buzz off, the pair of you.'

Sean and Chas shrugged and walked away with a jaunty air.

‘Debbie, you silly chump!' said Kevin, sitting down next to her and putting an arm round her. But it was too late.

‘I feel sick,' she said, putting a hand to her mouth.

‘Come on then; up you get.' He helped her to her feet, grabbing her stole from the back of her chair. She clung to him as he steered her out of the room, across the foyer and through the swing doors. No one seemed to be taking much notice; they were all too busy enjoying themselves.

The cool air engulfed them as they stepped out on to the pavement. ‘I'm going to be sick,' said Debbie. And so she was, in the gutter in front of the hotel. He held on to her, then wiped her mouth and her damp forehead with his clean handkerchief.

‘Better now?' he asked. ‘You've got it all up?'

She nodded. ‘I think so.' She was not so cocky now, and she tried to smile at him as she said, ‘I'm sorry, Kevin.'

‘I'd better get you home,' he said, ‘then you can go straight to bed. Let's hope your parents are not still up.'

‘You must be joking!' she replied. ‘My mum'll be waiting up, that's for sure.'

Luckily there was a taxi waiting nearby, and they were at Debbie's front gate in no time. ‘Come with me,' she begged. ‘They might not be so mad, if you're with me.' She really did sound contrite, and he felt sorry for her; but he was still very annoyed and disappointed with her.

He rang the bell, and Debbie's mother opened the door straight away, as though she had been waiting there. ‘Hello, Mrs Hargreaves,' he said. ‘I'm afraid Debbie isn't feeling too well. Er … it was probably the rich food at the party …' He stopped as Debbie was sick again, all over the doorstep.

Her mother sighed. ‘Not just the food, I reckon. Get inside, Debbie; straight up to bed.' She sounded cross, as well she might, but she smiled at Kevin. ‘Thank you for bringing her home, Kevin. We know you're a good lad, and our Debbie can be quite a handful.'

‘Thank you, Mrs Hargreaves,' he said. ‘Er … don't be too cross with her, will you?'

She shook her head, looking sad as well as annoyed as he left her. He knew that Debbie would have to face the music in the morning.

Debbie undressed quickly and was in bed by the time her mother came upstairs. She knew Mum would be angry with her – she had every right to be, she supposed – but she didn't feel like listening to a long diatribe about her behaviour at that moment. Or at any time, but she knew she would have to face it eventually.

‘Feeling better?' asked her mother, putting her hand on Debbie's forehead, as she tried to retreat further under the bedclothes.

‘Yes … I'm all right, Mum … I'm sorry!' she almost shouted, not sounding at all contrite. ‘Now, just leave me alone, please. I want to go to sleep.' She hadn't really meant to lash out at her mother like that, but it was the look on Mum's face, a look more of hurt and disappointment than anger, that had riled her. As though she was a little girl who had been naughty. It was about time her parents realized that she was not a child any more and that she had a life of her own. OK, she had stepped out of line. She had had too much to drink – she hoped to goodness that the other incident would not come to light! – but so what? It was a party for heaven's sake, and it was the first time she had ever done anything like this.

‘Very well, then. I'll leave you to calm down and sleep it off,' said her mother coolly. ‘Goodnight, Deborah.'

She certainly was in the doghouse for her mother to call her Deborah. But her head was still spinning and she didn't want to think about it now. She fell asleep in no time.

She still had a slight trace of a headache the next morning. She felt like staying in bed, but she knew she had to face the day, whatever it might bring, primarily the wrath of her parents. Her mother, though, greeted her much as usual.

‘Hello, love; I hope you're feeling more yourself this morning.'

Her father looked at her from over the top of his Sunday newspaper. ‘Yes; you were a bit worse for wear, weren't you, last night? All right again now, eh?'

‘Yes … thank you,' murmured Debbie.

‘Your daddy and me, we have decided not to say too much about your behaviour last night,' said her mother, in a patient, yet reproving, sort of voice. ‘You were a very silly girl, but we're prepared to overlook it this once provided you promise not to get into that state again, and you must settle down to your studies. We want to have a serious talk to you, later today, about what you're going to do … Now, some breakfast, Debbie? Bacon and egg, seeing that it's Sunday?'

‘Ugh, no!' she grimaced. ‘Not for me … thanks.' The thought of it made her stomach churn. ‘I'll just have some cereal and a piece of toast.'

‘I'm not surprised,' said her mother. ‘It's a case of the morning after the night before, isn't it? That's what happens when you have too much to drink.' She couldn't resist a dig, could she? thought Debbie, her hackles rising once again. Mum had said they'd say no more about it, but there was a smug half smile on her mother's face as she pushed the cornflakes packet towards her.

‘You're not going to the garden centre today, are you?' she asked, as Debbie ate her breakfast in a moody silence.

‘No. Well, not this morning,' she answered curtly. ‘I've said I'll do an hour or two this afternoon.'

‘Then perhaps we could have a little talk tonight,' said her mother. ‘We only want what is best for you, you know, your daddy and me.' It was the way she always said ‘Your daddy and me' that made Debbie see red, as though she was a little girl of six instead of sixteen.

She spent the morning reading in her bedroom, well aware that she was being rather ‘nowty' as her mother would say, but towards dinner time she was in a slightly better frame of mind. So much so that she told her mother how much she had enjoyed the dinner of roast lamb and mint sauce, accompanied with Mum's usual choice of vegetables, garden peas and carrots, followed by apple pie and custard.

‘Glad you liked it, pet!' Her mother beamed with pleasure at the unusual compliment. ‘It's very nice of you to say so… . Don't forget, will you; we must have our little chat tonight?'

Kevin came to find her as she was working in one of the greenhouses that afternoon.

‘Glad to see you've recovered,' he said. ‘No ill effects?'

‘None to speak of,' said Debbie nonchalantly. ‘A bit of a headache, that's all, but it's gone now.'

‘Well, perhaps you've learnt your lesson,' he said, not very concernedly.

‘Oh, don't you start!' she retorted. ‘I got enough of a lecture from my parents; well, from Mum at any rate. About the drinking. They didn't know about … the other thing. You won't mention it, will you, Kevin?'

‘Of course not,' he replied. ‘Why should I? Just don't do it again, that's all.'

‘I shan't!' she said, peevishly. Then, thinking better of it, she added, ‘Thanks, anyway, Kevin, for looking after me. I'm sorry, really I am.'

‘OK, let's forget it then,' he said, with a casual air. ‘Actually, Debbie, I've been thinking … Perhaps we'd better not carry on seeing one another, not for a while, anyway.'

‘Why not?' She stared at him in surprise. ‘D'you mean … you don't want to see me again?'

‘Not exactly,' he answered evasively. ‘I mean … we can still be friends, and I'll see you here, of course; and perhaps we could go out … occasionally. But you're only young, Debbie …'

‘I'm sixteen,' she answered. ‘Old enough to leave school; old enough for … all sorts of things.'

‘But I'm not so sure that I am,' he replied. ‘You'll have a lot of studying to do when you go back to school; and I want to be free to go out and enjoy myself. I don't want to feel that I'm … well … tied down. Not to you, or to anyone. I'm sorry, Debbie, but that's the way it is.'

‘You've met somebody else!' she countered. ‘That's it; I knew it! It's Sandra Robson, isn't it?'

‘Of course not,' he said, and laughed. ‘I enjoyed talking to her, that's all. But she's going to ‘uni anyway … Look, we've had a good time together, Debbie, and I'm fond of you, but I really think we should call it a day.'

She was determined she would not cry, although she could feel a sort of hotness behind her eyes. ‘All right then,' she retorted. ‘If that's the way you want it. See if I care!' She picked up her watering can and turned her back on him.

He actually put an arm around her. ‘Sorry, Debbie. But it's for the best; really it is …' He squeezed her shoulder, then he walked away.

Debbie was hurt and angry rather than heartbroken at Kevin's words. She knew that she had been dumped; at least that was what everyone would say when they knew about it. And so she must tell everyone that it was a mutual agreement, that they had realized they were not getting on as well as they used to and they had decided to call it a day. She had known, of course, if she were honest with herself, that Kevin had been cooling off. There had been that remark to Sandra last night, and other occasions when he had shown quite clearly that he didn't agree with her.

And how did she feel about Kevin? Although she was loath to admit that her mother was right, Kevin was the first boy she had been out with; and there might well be others, perhaps, in the near future. She had been obsessed with Kevin for a while. He had seemed so different from the lads at school whom she had known since she was eleven. He had a job and more money to spend, and the use of his father's car, and it had all seemed glamorous. But now, as she thought about it, she recognized that what her mother had kept telling her might be true. He was her first boyfriend; that was all. And although Mum hadn't actually said so, she had hinted that Debbie could do much better for herself.

Who better than Kevin? she had thought. He was the owner's son, and she loved working at Sunnyhill, and who could tell where it might lead? She knew now that it had been just a ridiculous fantasy on her part. Kevin had never had any such thoughts about her. He had told her himself that he had left school because he did not have the ability to cope with more academic studies, and that she was far brainier than he was. But she had refuted that at the time.