Broke by Mandasue Heller Page A

man?’
    ‘Come off it. She was well fit when she wasn’t out of her head.’
    ‘Fit, me arse,’ Mark snorted, enjoying the banter, because he had missed Steve every bit as much as Steve had missed him. ‘Now, Sharon Stone – that ’s fit.’
    ‘Maybe twenty years ago,’ Steve shot back. ‘But it’d be like shagging your nan nowadays. Anyhow, I like them dark. You ’re the one who likes blondes. And gingers,’ he added slyly.
    ‘Fuck off!’ Mark snorted, taking the dig in good humour. Then, ‘Subject of ginger, I bumped into that Jenny the other week.’
    ‘Yeah, I know, I was there,’ Steve reminded him. ‘At The Junny, after her mam’s funeral. You said you didn’t remember her, but I reckon you were just ashamed.’
    ‘No, it was after that,’ Mark told him. ‘This was the day me and you fell out. She’s gone dark now. Looked pretty fit.’
    ‘You having a laugh?’ Steve gave him a disbelieving look.
    ‘Nah, serious.’ Mark shook his head and sucked on his cigarette.
    A car horn tooted down below. Steve pulled the curtain back and waved before standing up. ‘Sorry, mate, got to go.’
    Mark was already on his feet. ‘Have a good ’un. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t.’
    ‘So, basically, anything goes, then?’ Steve quipped, grinning as they headed out into the hall.
    He slipped his jacket on and checked his hair in the mirror before picking up the slim gift-wrapped package from the table. But, just as he was about to open the door, Mark said, ‘Don’t suppose you’ve got a few quid to lend us, have you?’
    ‘Sorry, I haven’t,’ Steve told him regretfully. ‘Layla’s present cost an arm and a leg. Only got enough left for a cab back from town.’
    ‘No worries.’ Mark stepped out onto the landing. ‘Forget I said anything.’
    Steve felt terrible. Mark would never have asked if he wasn’t desperate and, even though he’d brought it on himself, Steve wished he could help.
    ‘Look, why don’t you come round tomorrow?’ he suggested as they walked down the stairs. ‘My wages should have gone into my account by then. I’ll get some beers, and we can watch the footie and have a proper catch-up.’
    ‘Yeah, that’ll be good.’ Mark smiled. ‘I’ll ring first, though, eh? Give you and your bird time to get dressed.’
    ‘Cheers, bud.’ Steve reached out and touched fists with him. Then, pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket, he shoved them into Mark’s hand. ‘Here, take these.’
    ‘You sure?’
    ‘Yeah, I’ve got another pack in the drawer,’ said Steve, adjusting his cuffs as they emerged from the stairwell.
    A bronze Lexus was idling at the kerb, and as they walked out onto the path a pretty girl in a long black dress stepped out of its back door.
    ‘ Wow. ’ Mark whistled through his teeth.
    ‘Told you,’ Steve said proudly.
    ‘You look nice,’ the girl said, her eyes gleaming as she reached up to kiss Steve on the cheek.
    ‘So do you,’ he murmured, conscious of her dad staring out at him from the driver’s seat. ‘This is Mark, my best mate,’ he said as he introduced them. ‘Mark, this is Layla, my . . .’
    ‘Girlfriend,’ said Layla when he trailed off.
    ‘Pleased to meet you.’ Mark grinned. ‘And happy birthday.’
    Layla thanked him and waved her hand at the occupants of the car.
    ‘This is my mum and dad,’ she said when they stepped out. ‘Mum, Dad . . . this is Steve.’
    Layla’s father was a good foot shorter than Steve, but he had the brooding intensity and stocky physique of a pro boxer, and Steve was conscious of his knees knocking as he held out his hand.
    ‘Pleased to meet you, Mr . . .’ He realised he didn’t know their surname and gave Layla a helpless look.
    ‘It’s Gerry.’ The man grasped his hand and pumped it. ‘And it’s nice to meet you, too, son. Good to finally put a face to the lad who’s had my girl mooning around like a lost puppy all week.’
    ‘ Dad! ’ Layla hissed. ‘You’re