Gypsy Wedding (28 page)

Vicky didn’t want to dampen her friend’s enthusiasm for finding her a job but the prospect filled her with dread. What did she know about doing a proper job? And what were the chances of her getting anything? As soon as they guessed who she really was she just knew all the normal prejudices would kick in. She was sure Kelly was wasting her time. There was no way anyone in the area would employ her once they knew she was a refugee from the trailer park.

‘If we find something, we’ll give them this address,’ said Kelly as if she were reading Vicky’s mind. ‘Even if we’ve had to find somewhere else for you to stay I can pass messages and anything on to you.’

‘I suppose.’ Vicky wasn’t convinced.

Between them Vicky and Kelly spent the entire morning trawling through recruiting agency websites trying to find something suitable. By lunchtime both of them were starting to lose heart.

‘There must be something,’ sighed Kelly, getting irritable with frustration. ‘Something that’s local and only needs a bus journey to get to at the most.’

‘But there doesn’t seem to be. Not a sausage.’

‘Then it’s plan B tomorrow.’

‘Plan B?’

‘We go into the job centre first thing and then we go round town and into every shop or business and ask if they’ve got a vacancy. Someone, somewhere must need a shop assistant or a cleaner or a waitress …’

‘You think?’

‘I’m sure.’

But Vicky didn’t think her face reflected her positivity. Either way they’d both had more than enough of job-hunting for the day.

In the afternoon the girls moped around the house, which they had to themselves as Betty had gone to do a supermarket run, muttering about extra mouths. Vicky said she was too tired to keep ploughing through recruiting websites and had a nap for an hour while Kelly gave up too and got busy with Facebook. When Vicky woke up, feeling slightly less downbeat, Kelly was getting stir-crazy.

‘Come on, Vick, we’ve been stuck in all day. I love you to bits, babe, but I could do with seeing a few other friendly faces. What do you say?’

‘Maybe.’ In Vicky’s experience there weren’t many friendly faces off the trailer park – not if you were a traveller there weren’t – but she didn’t want to sound like a wet weekend.

‘So why don’t I text a few people and we go out on the lash tonight?’

Vicky’s eyes widened involuntarily. ‘Out?’

‘Yeah, you know. To a club or somewhere, get hammered, have fun.’

‘Hammered?’

‘Oh, come on, Vicky. Learn to live a bit. You’re not on the caravan site now, no one is going to see you. If you’re going to be accepted by people you’ve got to start to behave like a normal one.’

Vicky wanted to say that as far as she was concerned she was perfectly normal and getting hammered didn’t sound right for girls of their age but she was still wary of upsetting Kelly again. She owed Kelly too much, she
needed
Kelly too much to risk getting on the wrong side of her again.

‘What did you bring with you – clothes-wise?’ Kelly asked.

‘Not much,’ admitted Vicky. ‘I didn’t hang around to find out what my dad would say about me talking to Jordan.’

‘Assuming Liam told him.’

‘I dunno. He might have done. I think he would have done if I’d stayed. Now I haven’t a clue what’s going on there. Shania’s sent me a few messages.’

‘And?’

‘And I don’t want to read them. Not just yet.’ She was scared she’d break down or lose her nerve or both. ‘Maybe tomorrow.’

‘I’d leave them well alone if I were you. You’ve escaped, you don’t want any emotional blackmail to make you go back.’

But it wasn’t about escaping. Kelly had it so wrong. Kelly made it sound like she’d been some sort of prisoner, that she’d been trapped, and Vicky didn’t have the first idea how to start telling Kelly that it wasn’t like that. Maybe another time. Vicky thought she was just putting everything off. The list of stuff she was going to deal with later was getting huge.
The coward’s way out
, she thought.

After supper the two girls went back to Kelly’s room to ‘slap up’, as Kelly put it, and change into something suitable for a night out. To Vicky’s horror she had also nicked a bottle of her dad’s wine, which she opened and poured into a couple of tooth mugs.

‘Given the cost of booze these days, we’re going out pre-loaded. Drink up, Vick!’

Vicky took the glass like she expected to receive an electric shock off it.

‘Cheers,’ said Kelly, not noticing and clinking hers against it. She took a swig and shuddered. ‘Mightn’t be so rough if it was cold but never mind.’ She eyed her friend. ‘Come on, get it down you. It’s not that bad.’ She took a second gulp. ‘And it gets better as you get used to it.’

Vicky took a sip and tried to look as if she liked it. It was much nastier than communion wine, which she didn’t really like either but it would be rude to say so. ‘Cheers, Kelly.’ She put her glass down as Kelly turned up the music and then began to go through her wardrobe, hauling things out that might do for either of them between taking further slugs of wine.

Kelly found a pair of lime-green shorts and black leggings for herself with a skimpy orange top and then she picked out a chiffon blouse that was verging on transparent and a micro skirt, both in red, for Vicky. Vicky eyed both outfits warily – they were even more microscopic and revealing than the sort of things that Shania wore.

‘The red’ll look fab on you,’ said Kelly, refilling her glass. ‘And you need to wear these with it.’ She handed Vicky a pair of sky-high heels.

By the time both of them were ready at nine o’clock, Kelly had had several glasses but seemed pretty sober considering, while Vicky felt distinctly wobbly after just one and a bit – and she knew it wasn’t the stilettos.

The bus driver gave both girls a leer as they got onto the bus that took them to the town centre, which made Vicky feel uneasy. It was one thing dressing provocatively on the trailer park and being stared at by the boys there. There were rules there and everyone knew what they were. But here, on the outside, it was a whole different matter and Vicky felt very uncomfortable at the way the driver looked at her tits. She gave him a cold look and followed Kelly to the back of the bus.

‘Look, Kelly,’ she said when they’d sat down. ‘I don’t think this is such a good idea. Apart from anything, I’m skint. I can’t afford a night on the town and I’ve no idea when I’ll be able to pay you back.’

But Kelly was mellow from drink. She waved a hand. ‘When you’ve got a job, babe. Wait till then.’

‘But …’

‘No buts. You’re seventeen, almost eighteen, for fuck’s sake. It’s time you had a good time.’

But Vicky had had loads of good times, it was just they hadn’t involved getting off her face and she wasn’t sure she wanted to now. But if she didn’t join in she’d annoy Kelly and she couldn’t risk that. Not again.

The girls walked into the club and Kelly surveyed the scene with an expert eye. The noise was deafening and the place heaved with scantily clad girls gyrating madly while bored boys propped themselves against the walls and swigged pints.

Apart from the fact that Vicky didn’t know a soul, from the amount of flesh the girls had on show, plus the amount of make-up they had on, this could have been a traveller party. Only it definitely wasn’t, as one girl stumbled past her, her hand to her mouth and obviously about to throw up in the Ladies.

Kelly pressed her mouth against Vicky’s ear. ‘What do you want to drink?’

Vicky felt they’d both had enough but that was going to be the wrong answer. As was ‘Coke, please.’

‘White wine would be nice.’

‘Good choice. Now we just need to get someone to buy them.’ Kelly cast her eye round the room again then grabbed Vicky’s arm. ‘Come on,’ she yelled as she tugged her through the throng.

Vicky followed, not having much choice. She was close behind Kelly and couldn’t really see where they were headed until Kelly stopped suddenly. Vicky looked past her.

‘Jordan!’

Oh no. Just when she thought life couldn’t get any more complicated or difficult. She shot a look at Kelly. Had this been planned? Had Kelly meant to meet up with Jordan all along? She couldn’t judge whether the broad smile on Kelly’s face was just one of straight pleasure at seeing a friend or whether there was a hint of triumph that a plan had come together. Not that it really mattered, because as far as Vicky was concerned Jordan was the last bloke she wanted to run into. It was just too embarrassing given everything: that kiss, that awful goodbye, to say nothing of his coldness on the phone the previous evening, which clearly told her that he was still livid with her. But someone had to make the first move and behave in a civilised way, otherwise they’d just spend the evening circling each other like a pair of cats shaping up for a fight.

‘Hi, Jordan,’ she yelled over the throbbing drum and bass. He gave her a chilly stare and nodded in her direction.
Still in the doghouse
, she thought. ‘I’m sorry,’ she shouted. ‘Really. I behaved badly.’

He just nodded back.

‘Get us a drink, gorgeous,’ hollered Kelly. ‘We’re on white wine.’

Jordan raised his eyebrows but disappeared off towards the bar. Kelly tugged on Vicky’s arm again and pulled her further into the club. They rounded a corner and the music suddenly diminished to an almost manageable level. In this part of the club there were low tables, soft lighting and loads of comfortable seats. There were a few groups of people chatting but it was mostly empty. It was too early for most of the clubbers to want to take a break; they were there to dance and drink and maybe pull. Sitting out wasn’t going to achieve any of that.

Kelly flopped down on a squashy sofa and Vicky sat on a big beanbag next to her.

‘Will Jordan find us here?’ she said.

Kelly nodded. ‘It’s where we generally hang out. Easier to talk. I know it’s pathetic,’ she added, ‘but having to shout all the time does my head in.’

‘So did you know Jordan’d be here?’ She hoped she didn’t sound too accusing.

‘I thought he might. Let’s face it, there aren’t many decent places in this town for people our age to go.’

Vicky shook her head. ‘How would I know, remember?’

‘Oops, sorry.’ Not that she sounded it.

‘I wouldn’t have come if I’d known he’d be here.’

‘You’re joking me.’

‘No.’

‘But you fancy him.’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘So what was that kiss about?’

‘It was a mistake.’

Kelly’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Like it looked like it.’

‘I’m engaged, remember. I love Liam.’

Kelly, emboldened by booze, said, ‘Shouldn’t that be, I
was
engaged and I
loved
Liam.’

Vicky was spared having to respond by the reappearance of Jordan with two glasses of wine and a lager for himself loaded onto a tray. He passed one glass to Kelly and then silently handed Vicky the other one. She took it and said thank you and then stared into the straw-coloured liquid, thinking that the awful thing was, part of what Kelly said was true. She probably
wasn’t
still engaged. If Liam knew that she’d run away – and why wouldn’t he by now? – there was no way he’d want her. But there was no way she was going to consign her love for Liam to the past. She did still love him and she missed him as much as she missed her family. The thought that she’d completely wrecked everything between the pair of them hurt horribly – a sickening, dull ache that was interspersed with occasional panicky interludes when the awfulness of her situation hit her. And it was a panicky moment that hit her right then, making her feel shaky and sweaty all over again.

No point in crying or worrying, though
, she told herself angrily. She’d made her bed and even if it was a long way from being a bed of roses it was still chock-full of nasty, sharp thorns. And every time she remembered what she’d lost and left behind it was like being stabbed by one. She wondered, morosely, if the pain would ever go away.

She took a big swig of her wine. Maybe that would help. And then another when it had no immediate effect. She didn’t know whether the wine she was drinking was better quality than the stuff Kelly had nicked off her dad or whether it was because it was chilled or maybe it was just that she was getting a taste for alcohol but she actually found herself enjoying this drink. She slugged back another gulp.

Jordan, sitting opposite her, raised his eyebrow. ‘I didn’t think you were allowed to drink.’

‘That was then,’ said Vicky. ‘This is now.’ She giggled, thinking what she’d said was quite profound and clever.

A youth approached their corner and said something to Kelly.

She instantly dumped her glass on the table beside her and with a casual ‘Laters’ skipped off to the dance floor. Which left Jordan and Vicky alone.

‘So what’s going on? Out with the likes of Kelly and me, drinking. Seems to me you’re breaking a lot of rules.’

‘I’ve run away.’

Jordan’s drink slopped over the edge of his glass. ‘Run away? Why?’

‘Complicated,’ she said.