several weeks ahead of her. It had seemed like an advantage previously, but now she began to wonder.
***
Next day at Johnny’s house, he continued with his story.
‘We all got on really well, so when Andy’s eighteenth birthday finally came around that November, we all got together for a night out to celebrate. There was a big crowd of us in this pub near where he lived, it was quite a party.’
Chapter 14
Andy’s 18 th birthday, 12 th November 1972
Johnny despaired of Tom. He chased after Andy and Tiffany’s school friends endlessly, reckoned he needed a woman in uniform to get his mojo working.
‘It’s not your mojo I’m worried about,’ Andy told him. ‘They’re too young for you, leave them alone.’
‘You don’t, you go out with Tiff.’
‘I’m the same age, for Christ’s sake. I go to school with them.’
That didn’t stop Tom trying, though, and he had short relationships with a few of them. Andy reckoned the girls who went out with Tom were experimenting with older men. ‘Older men?’ Tom had exclaimed. ‘Older men? I’m twenty-fucking-two.’ Andy’s expression gave him away. To him, twenty-fucking-two was pretty fucking old.
On the night of the party, Tom’s date was a girl called Penny, who was seventeen. Johnny’s girlfriend at the time was a posh bird named Portia; she saw Johnny as her bit of rough, with his long hair and his Yorkshire accent. He knew and didn’t care, it was nothing serious; they were just having fun.
Cormac Boyd preferred drinks to dates: ‘Bloody women,’ he said. ‘They’re all the same, they get a fucking face on, mouth like a cat’s arse. I used to get grief all the time from Trisha. “Haven’t you had enough, Cormac. Why do you drink so much, Cormac.” It’s enough to turn a pint.’
The evening was in full swing and taxis had been ordered to take everyone to a club when the pub shut. Johnny swallowed the last of his pint and headed into the gents before they moved on.
‘It’s okay, Andy, I’ve got your hair.’
‘Tiff? Is that you?’
‘Johnny?’ The cubicle door swung open and Tiffany peered out.
‘What’s going on?’
‘It’s Andy. I think his drinks have been spiked.’ Johnny heard Andy groan. Tiff turned back to him. ‘It’s okay, throw it all up. You’ll feel better for it.’
Johnny went over and looked into the cubicle. Andy was kneeling in front of the toilet, looking very much the worse for wear. Tiffany had his hair pulled back so that he wasn’t sick in it. She stroked his brow and shot Johnny a desperate look.
‘Who would do this to him? They’ve ruined his night, whoever it was. I don’t know what to do. We can’t go on to a club, but I can’t take him home in this state. He’s on a knife-edge with his parents anyway, what with the time he spends with the band. They think he should be studying more. He hasn’t told them yet that he’s not going to uni.’
‘Here,’ said Johnny, fishing his keys out of the pocket of his jeans. ‘Get a cab to the flat, stay there until he’s in better shape. You’ll not be expected back until the early hours so you’ve got a bit of time to sort him out.’ He dug in his wallet for some money. ‘Here’s the cab fare. Get some coffee and some food inside him if he can stand it, that should help.’
Tiff took the keys and the money. ‘Thanks, Johnny, you’re a good friend.’ She let go of Andy’s hair and reached up to kiss Johnny’s cheek. Andy chose that moment to throw up again.
‘Best rinse his hair before you try to get into a cab,’ said Johnny. ‘See you later.’ He squeezed her arm. ‘And don’t worry, I’ll sort this.’
Johnny had a pretty good idea who was responsible for the state Andy was in. When they got to the club he sought out Cormac Boyd. Cormac grinned when he saw Johnny. ‘Seen the big kid, Johnny? He seems to be missing out on his own party.’
‘Why do you think that is, Cormac? Any ideas?’
Cormac laughed.
***
Next day at Johnny’s house, he continued with his story.
‘We all got on really well, so when Andy’s eighteenth birthday finally came around that November, we all got together for a night out to celebrate. There was a big crowd of us in this pub near where he lived, it was quite a party.’
Chapter 14
Andy’s 18 th birthday, 12 th November 1972
Johnny despaired of Tom. He chased after Andy and Tiffany’s school friends endlessly, reckoned he needed a woman in uniform to get his mojo working.
‘It’s not your mojo I’m worried about,’ Andy told him. ‘They’re too young for you, leave them alone.’
‘You don’t, you go out with Tiff.’
‘I’m the same age, for Christ’s sake. I go to school with them.’
That didn’t stop Tom trying, though, and he had short relationships with a few of them. Andy reckoned the girls who went out with Tom were experimenting with older men. ‘Older men?’ Tom had exclaimed. ‘Older men? I’m twenty-fucking-two.’ Andy’s expression gave him away. To him, twenty-fucking-two was pretty fucking old.
On the night of the party, Tom’s date was a girl called Penny, who was seventeen. Johnny’s girlfriend at the time was a posh bird named Portia; she saw Johnny as her bit of rough, with his long hair and his Yorkshire accent. He knew and didn’t care, it was nothing serious; they were just having fun.
Cormac Boyd preferred drinks to dates: ‘Bloody women,’ he said. ‘They’re all the same, they get a fucking face on, mouth like a cat’s arse. I used to get grief all the time from Trisha. “Haven’t you had enough, Cormac. Why do you drink so much, Cormac.” It’s enough to turn a pint.’
The evening was in full swing and taxis had been ordered to take everyone to a club when the pub shut. Johnny swallowed the last of his pint and headed into the gents before they moved on.
‘It’s okay, Andy, I’ve got your hair.’
‘Tiff? Is that you?’
‘Johnny?’ The cubicle door swung open and Tiffany peered out.
‘What’s going on?’
‘It’s Andy. I think his drinks have been spiked.’ Johnny heard Andy groan. Tiff turned back to him. ‘It’s okay, throw it all up. You’ll feel better for it.’
Johnny went over and looked into the cubicle. Andy was kneeling in front of the toilet, looking very much the worse for wear. Tiffany had his hair pulled back so that he wasn’t sick in it. She stroked his brow and shot Johnny a desperate look.
‘Who would do this to him? They’ve ruined his night, whoever it was. I don’t know what to do. We can’t go on to a club, but I can’t take him home in this state. He’s on a knife-edge with his parents anyway, what with the time he spends with the band. They think he should be studying more. He hasn’t told them yet that he’s not going to uni.’
‘Here,’ said Johnny, fishing his keys out of the pocket of his jeans. ‘Get a cab to the flat, stay there until he’s in better shape. You’ll not be expected back until the early hours so you’ve got a bit of time to sort him out.’ He dug in his wallet for some money. ‘Here’s the cab fare. Get some coffee and some food inside him if he can stand it, that should help.’
Tiff took the keys and the money. ‘Thanks, Johnny, you’re a good friend.’ She let go of Andy’s hair and reached up to kiss Johnny’s cheek. Andy chose that moment to throw up again.
‘Best rinse his hair before you try to get into a cab,’ said Johnny. ‘See you later.’ He squeezed her arm. ‘And don’t worry, I’ll sort this.’
Johnny had a pretty good idea who was responsible for the state Andy was in. When they got to the club he sought out Cormac Boyd. Cormac grinned when he saw Johnny. ‘Seen the big kid, Johnny? He seems to be missing out on his own party.’
‘Why do you think that is, Cormac? Any ideas?’
Cormac laughed.
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