the party looking like the rest of us, and no one else there will know you’re any different. There’s gonna be girls there, Billy-boy, tons of girls. You ever got off with a girl before?’
The look on his friend’s face told him the answer. ‘Tonight’s your night then, man. All you have to do is get the booze. You up for it?’ He grinned as the other boy nodded. ‘Yeeessss, nice one, mate. Come on, let’s go.’
The take had gone as well as he could have expected really. Their new friend hadn’t dropped any bottles or run up to the shopkeeper to confess, although he had shat himself when he’d walked in with Mike and seen that it wasn’t Walters on the counter but some girl with perfectly good eyesight. It’d turned out to be for the best, though. Jack was ten times better with women than with old men. He looked years older than fifteen, and with his floppy brown hair and clear blue eyes there was even less chance that the girl, Tina, would notice what was going on elsewhere in the shop. It had been Mike who had surprised him the most: when Tina had glanced his way, he’d simply dropped his bag and walked out. Lucky for Billy that Matt Riley had arrived at that exact moment, realised what Jack and Adam were up to and seen Billy standing there like a deer in the headlights. He’d walked over to Billy, shoved the bottles into his bag and practically dragged him from the store. Peterson had been waiting as they came round the corner with three bottles of vodka clinking in Billy’s bag, and greeted them as though fuck all had gone wrong.
‘What the fuck happened to you?’ Jack had demanded. ‘You left poor Shakespeare on his own to bring out all the booze. I practically had to shag her on the counter to stop her looking to see why you’d stormed out. Lucky Riley showed up.’
‘She was on to me,’ Mike had protested. ‘She probably recognised me – I thought I was better off leaving him to it. What did you get?’
Billy had gone to open the bag to show off his impressive haul, but Jack had thrust his hand over the top of it and shoved Mike hard on the shoulder.
‘Fuck off. You dropped Billy right in it there. If you think you’re coming tonight, you must be joking. Go on, fuck off home.’
‘Aw, come on, man, I’m sorry, all right?’
‘No, it’s not all right. Piss off.’
‘Fuck you then! Like you ever get your fucking hands dirty!’ Mike yelled to their retreating backs. Jack snorted back a laugh.
‘Thank God for that. Fucking mutant would’ve cramped our style anyway. Back at mine at eight, Harvey?’ Adam looked uncertain at the idea of returning without his friend, but eventually he nodded. Jack pumped the air with his fist.
‘You coming?’ Billy asked Matt Riley, who nodded.
‘Yeah, may as well.’
‘Thanks for your help in there.’
Riley grinned. ‘Don’t be gay. See you later.’
Jack slung an arm around Billy’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze, then grabbed his arm and picked up his step. ‘Come on, mate, we’ve got some work to do on you.’
11
Nick Whitely is a handsome man, now I can see properly through my anger. The less flustered look suits him, and as he stands to greet me I see he’s got a noticeably good physique underneath his crisp white shirt. I don’t know if he’s noticed me looking but his electric blue eyes flash with amusement when he smiles and shakes my hand.
‘Mrs Webster.’ He turns to Cassie. ‘And Cassie Reynolds, if I’m not mistaken?’
Cassie frowns. ‘Sorry, I thought we were meeting a reporter, not a detective.’
My elbow shoots out reflexively, jabbing her in the side.
We take a seat at the table. Mr Whitely – I wonder if I should call him Nick? – has already ordered a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and a jug of iced water. For a small-time journalist from a local rag he knows how to conduct a meeting. It takes me a minute to realise he’s been talking and I’ve been staring at his arms and trying to remember the
The look on his friend’s face told him the answer. ‘Tonight’s your night then, man. All you have to do is get the booze. You up for it?’ He grinned as the other boy nodded. ‘Yeeessss, nice one, mate. Come on, let’s go.’
The take had gone as well as he could have expected really. Their new friend hadn’t dropped any bottles or run up to the shopkeeper to confess, although he had shat himself when he’d walked in with Mike and seen that it wasn’t Walters on the counter but some girl with perfectly good eyesight. It’d turned out to be for the best, though. Jack was ten times better with women than with old men. He looked years older than fifteen, and with his floppy brown hair and clear blue eyes there was even less chance that the girl, Tina, would notice what was going on elsewhere in the shop. It had been Mike who had surprised him the most: when Tina had glanced his way, he’d simply dropped his bag and walked out. Lucky for Billy that Matt Riley had arrived at that exact moment, realised what Jack and Adam were up to and seen Billy standing there like a deer in the headlights. He’d walked over to Billy, shoved the bottles into his bag and practically dragged him from the store. Peterson had been waiting as they came round the corner with three bottles of vodka clinking in Billy’s bag, and greeted them as though fuck all had gone wrong.
‘What the fuck happened to you?’ Jack had demanded. ‘You left poor Shakespeare on his own to bring out all the booze. I practically had to shag her on the counter to stop her looking to see why you’d stormed out. Lucky Riley showed up.’
‘She was on to me,’ Mike had protested. ‘She probably recognised me – I thought I was better off leaving him to it. What did you get?’
Billy had gone to open the bag to show off his impressive haul, but Jack had thrust his hand over the top of it and shoved Mike hard on the shoulder.
‘Fuck off. You dropped Billy right in it there. If you think you’re coming tonight, you must be joking. Go on, fuck off home.’
‘Aw, come on, man, I’m sorry, all right?’
‘No, it’s not all right. Piss off.’
‘Fuck you then! Like you ever get your fucking hands dirty!’ Mike yelled to their retreating backs. Jack snorted back a laugh.
‘Thank God for that. Fucking mutant would’ve cramped our style anyway. Back at mine at eight, Harvey?’ Adam looked uncertain at the idea of returning without his friend, but eventually he nodded. Jack pumped the air with his fist.
‘You coming?’ Billy asked Matt Riley, who nodded.
‘Yeah, may as well.’
‘Thanks for your help in there.’
Riley grinned. ‘Don’t be gay. See you later.’
Jack slung an arm around Billy’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze, then grabbed his arm and picked up his step. ‘Come on, mate, we’ve got some work to do on you.’
11
Nick Whitely is a handsome man, now I can see properly through my anger. The less flustered look suits him, and as he stands to greet me I see he’s got a noticeably good physique underneath his crisp white shirt. I don’t know if he’s noticed me looking but his electric blue eyes flash with amusement when he smiles and shakes my hand.
‘Mrs Webster.’ He turns to Cassie. ‘And Cassie Reynolds, if I’m not mistaken?’
Cassie frowns. ‘Sorry, I thought we were meeting a reporter, not a detective.’
My elbow shoots out reflexively, jabbing her in the side.
We take a seat at the table. Mr Whitely – I wonder if I should call him Nick? – has already ordered a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and a jug of iced water. For a small-time journalist from a local rag he knows how to conduct a meeting. It takes me a minute to realise he’s been talking and I’ve been staring at his arms and trying to remember the
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