feel?’
‘Yeah, well, you don’t look it,’ Johnny said, using flattery to manoeuvre her away from the other subject. ‘You’re still a babe.’
‘Shut up,’ she scolded, a hint of pinkness colouring her cheeks.
‘It’s true,’ Johnny insisted. ‘My mate went on about you for ages after he saw you that time. I had to tell him to pack it in, ’cos it was getting too freaky.’
‘You’re such a liar,’ Cathy chuckled. Then, self-consciously flicking her bottle-blonde hair back, she said, ‘Was that the lad who let you move into his flat?’
‘Yeah – Dave. He’s a good mate.’
‘He’s a nice-looking boy. And I’m glad it worked out all right, ’cos I was worried about you, you know.’
Johnny sensed that she was on the verge of getting emotional, and said, ‘Forget it.’ Then, ‘So, about the wedding . . . do you want to come, or what? Only I’ll need to tell Ruth and her mum, so they can send out a proper invite.’
‘Ruth?’ Cathy raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that her name? Bit old-fashioned, isn’t it?’
‘Never really thought about it,’ Johnny answered. And it was true, he hadn’t. But now that she’d brought it up, he supposed it was a bit dreary.
Dreary name for a dreary girl.
‘Well?’ He shoved Ruth out of his mind and gave his mum a questioning look.
‘I’m not sure,’ she murmured, scraping her chair back and reaching for their empty cups. ‘Let’s have another brew while I think about it.’
‘Not for me.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s being booked for the thirteenth of November, so if you’re coming I need to know asap.’
‘Let me talk to Les,’ Cathy said quietly. Sighing when Johnny rolled his eyes, she said, ‘Well, you can’t invite me and not him. It wouldn’t be right.’
‘I don’t want him there,’ Johnny told her bluntly, unable to hold his tongue any longer. ‘And I can’t believe you’re still trying to force him down my throat after everything he did.’
‘Oh, Johnny, not this again,’ Cathy groaned. ‘I know you blamed him for your dad walking out, but he wasn’t even around at the time. He’s done nothing but try to support us.’
‘And beating the shit out of me was supporting us, was it?’
‘Stop it,’ Cathy scolded. ‘He might have given you the occasional smack, but that’s all. And you should think yourself lucky, ’cos anyone else would have snapped if you’d pushed them as far as you pushed him.’
‘Really?’ Johnny raised an eyebrow and stared at her.
‘Yes, really .’ Cathy held his gaze. ‘I’m the one who had all the neighbours looking down on me like I was the world’s worst mother whenever the police dragged you home, so don’t try and make out like you were some kind of angel.’
‘I never said I was,’ Johnny replied coolly. ‘But I was only nine when he moved in, and I’d never got into any kind of trouble before, so didn’t it strike you as odd that I suddenly went off the rails?’
‘You were twelve when you started playing up,’ Cathy reminded him. ‘All kids are little bastards at that age.’
‘Especially if they’re getting the shit beat out of them day in, day out, eh?’
Cathy tutted. ‘Les never did anything of the sort, and you know it. You just said it to break us up, ’cos you’d had me all to yourself and you were jealous of him moving in. But it didn’t work then and it won’t work now. Les might not be perfect, but he’s done his best by me – and you. It wasn’t his fault you wouldn’t let him near.’
Johnny’s cheek muscles twitched as the rage he’d tried so hard to suppress came bubbling to the surface.
‘Oh, he got near, all right. Every time you went out, he was on me like a fucking dog. I remember how scared I used to get when he was standing over me with that evil look on his face. And he fucking loved it – seeing me cry, and knowing I’d end up pissing my bed and get into trouble with you.’
Cathy gave him a pained look. ‘I
‘Yeah, well, you don’t look it,’ Johnny said, using flattery to manoeuvre her away from the other subject. ‘You’re still a babe.’
‘Shut up,’ she scolded, a hint of pinkness colouring her cheeks.
‘It’s true,’ Johnny insisted. ‘My mate went on about you for ages after he saw you that time. I had to tell him to pack it in, ’cos it was getting too freaky.’
‘You’re such a liar,’ Cathy chuckled. Then, self-consciously flicking her bottle-blonde hair back, she said, ‘Was that the lad who let you move into his flat?’
‘Yeah – Dave. He’s a good mate.’
‘He’s a nice-looking boy. And I’m glad it worked out all right, ’cos I was worried about you, you know.’
Johnny sensed that she was on the verge of getting emotional, and said, ‘Forget it.’ Then, ‘So, about the wedding . . . do you want to come, or what? Only I’ll need to tell Ruth and her mum, so they can send out a proper invite.’
‘Ruth?’ Cathy raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that her name? Bit old-fashioned, isn’t it?’
‘Never really thought about it,’ Johnny answered. And it was true, he hadn’t. But now that she’d brought it up, he supposed it was a bit dreary.
Dreary name for a dreary girl.
‘Well?’ He shoved Ruth out of his mind and gave his mum a questioning look.
‘I’m not sure,’ she murmured, scraping her chair back and reaching for their empty cups. ‘Let’s have another brew while I think about it.’
‘Not for me.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s being booked for the thirteenth of November, so if you’re coming I need to know asap.’
‘Let me talk to Les,’ Cathy said quietly. Sighing when Johnny rolled his eyes, she said, ‘Well, you can’t invite me and not him. It wouldn’t be right.’
‘I don’t want him there,’ Johnny told her bluntly, unable to hold his tongue any longer. ‘And I can’t believe you’re still trying to force him down my throat after everything he did.’
‘Oh, Johnny, not this again,’ Cathy groaned. ‘I know you blamed him for your dad walking out, but he wasn’t even around at the time. He’s done nothing but try to support us.’
‘And beating the shit out of me was supporting us, was it?’
‘Stop it,’ Cathy scolded. ‘He might have given you the occasional smack, but that’s all. And you should think yourself lucky, ’cos anyone else would have snapped if you’d pushed them as far as you pushed him.’
‘Really?’ Johnny raised an eyebrow and stared at her.
‘Yes, really .’ Cathy held his gaze. ‘I’m the one who had all the neighbours looking down on me like I was the world’s worst mother whenever the police dragged you home, so don’t try and make out like you were some kind of angel.’
‘I never said I was,’ Johnny replied coolly. ‘But I was only nine when he moved in, and I’d never got into any kind of trouble before, so didn’t it strike you as odd that I suddenly went off the rails?’
‘You were twelve when you started playing up,’ Cathy reminded him. ‘All kids are little bastards at that age.’
‘Especially if they’re getting the shit beat out of them day in, day out, eh?’
Cathy tutted. ‘Les never did anything of the sort, and you know it. You just said it to break us up, ’cos you’d had me all to yourself and you were jealous of him moving in. But it didn’t work then and it won’t work now. Les might not be perfect, but he’s done his best by me – and you. It wasn’t his fault you wouldn’t let him near.’
Johnny’s cheek muscles twitched as the rage he’d tried so hard to suppress came bubbling to the surface.
‘Oh, he got near, all right. Every time you went out, he was on me like a fucking dog. I remember how scared I used to get when he was standing over me with that evil look on his face. And he fucking loved it – seeing me cry, and knowing I’d end up pissing my bed and get into trouble with you.’
Cathy gave him a pained look. ‘I
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