He had a face like a lizard.
âHi, Kay,â he said. âWhat are you drinking?â
I can hardly bear to describe the rest of the afternoon. In short, it was awful. A daze of giggling, drinking, grinning, smoking, bragging about cars, crappy jokes and beer-mat tricks, crisps, traffic fumes, flies, spiked drinks, sly looks and suggestions, and then, as the drinks took hold, red-faced slurs and scratches and winks, burps andfarts, dirty stares, shuffling chairs and loose hands, with Bill flashing her knickers around like a drunk old granny at Christmas, and Trevor pawing her under the table, and Malc just sitting there like a sick little boy after Iâd kicked him in the knee for trying to stick his damn tongue in my ear.
When Bill and Trevor sloped off to a corner of the balcony to get some more groping in, I just couldnât stand it any more. I took myself off to the Ladies, locked myself in a cubicle, and just sat there, praying for the day to end.
I didnât have that much to drink, but it wasnât possible to sit there all afternoon without drinking something , if only to dull the pain. And Iâm sure Talcy Malcy slipped a few vodkas into my cider at the bar. And I hadnât eaten much. And I was tired. And weâd been sitting out in the sun all afternoon ⦠So, all in all, by the time we left the pub I have to admit I was pretty drunk. I donât quite remember walking back to the car park, but somewhere along the way we lost Trevor and Malcolm and were re-united with Angel and Robbie. They were with a man Iâd seen around the island called Lee Brendell. I didnât know where theyâd been, or what he was doing with them, and I didnât really care. I was just glad to get in the back of the car and sit back as Robbie drove out of the car park, swung across the roundabout and headed out of town.
After fiddling around with a pile of shopping bags and re-doing her lipstick, Angel swivelled around in her seat and lit a cigarette. She couldnât stop grinning at Bill, who was slopped in the corner with her eyes half-closed and an unlit cigarette hanging from her mouth. Lee Brendell had squeezed in the back and was sitting sullenly between me and Bill with his legs splayed wide and his eyes blank.Robbie, meanwhile, had obviously taken something. His bug eyes were shining like black saucers and he couldnât stop talking and waving his hands about. He was driving even crazier than before. Cutting up cars, swerving all over the place, racing the engine ⦠it was scary.
I opened the window to let some air in.
âWant some sounds, Bren?â Robbie shouted, jerking his head around. âEh? What dâyou want? Bit oâ boom? You want some boo-oom!â
Brendell just looked at him. He was a big man, in his late twenties or early thirties, dressed in a faded grey T-shirt and dusty jeans, with a raw-looking face and large, weathered hands which he held flat on his knees. All I really knew about him was that he lived on a houseboat on the west of the island and that he wasnât a man to be messed with. He smelled of chemicals and sweat.
Robbie turned and grinned at him again. âSay what? Wanna smoke? Whooo! Smokeen Joanna! You want some boom-boom? Angeâll getââ
âJust drive the car,â Brendell said quietly.
âOkey dokey, Bren,â Robbie replied happily. âOkey bloody dokey.â
The outskirts of town blurred past and before I knew it we were heading out along the country lanes back to the island. Although I was still feeling a bit whoozy, the air rushing in through the open window was beginning to clear my head and I was starting to feel a little better.
Bill, though â well, Bill was suffering. Slumped against the window, with her head in her hands and her skirt all rucked up and mascara smudged around her eyes, she looked a complete mess. I didnât feel much sympathy for her. In fact, I didnât feel
âHi, Kay,â he said. âWhat are you drinking?â
I can hardly bear to describe the rest of the afternoon. In short, it was awful. A daze of giggling, drinking, grinning, smoking, bragging about cars, crappy jokes and beer-mat tricks, crisps, traffic fumes, flies, spiked drinks, sly looks and suggestions, and then, as the drinks took hold, red-faced slurs and scratches and winks, burps andfarts, dirty stares, shuffling chairs and loose hands, with Bill flashing her knickers around like a drunk old granny at Christmas, and Trevor pawing her under the table, and Malc just sitting there like a sick little boy after Iâd kicked him in the knee for trying to stick his damn tongue in my ear.
When Bill and Trevor sloped off to a corner of the balcony to get some more groping in, I just couldnât stand it any more. I took myself off to the Ladies, locked myself in a cubicle, and just sat there, praying for the day to end.
I didnât have that much to drink, but it wasnât possible to sit there all afternoon without drinking something , if only to dull the pain. And Iâm sure Talcy Malcy slipped a few vodkas into my cider at the bar. And I hadnât eaten much. And I was tired. And weâd been sitting out in the sun all afternoon ⦠So, all in all, by the time we left the pub I have to admit I was pretty drunk. I donât quite remember walking back to the car park, but somewhere along the way we lost Trevor and Malcolm and were re-united with Angel and Robbie. They were with a man Iâd seen around the island called Lee Brendell. I didnât know where theyâd been, or what he was doing with them, and I didnât really care. I was just glad to get in the back of the car and sit back as Robbie drove out of the car park, swung across the roundabout and headed out of town.
After fiddling around with a pile of shopping bags and re-doing her lipstick, Angel swivelled around in her seat and lit a cigarette. She couldnât stop grinning at Bill, who was slopped in the corner with her eyes half-closed and an unlit cigarette hanging from her mouth. Lee Brendell had squeezed in the back and was sitting sullenly between me and Bill with his legs splayed wide and his eyes blank.Robbie, meanwhile, had obviously taken something. His bug eyes were shining like black saucers and he couldnât stop talking and waving his hands about. He was driving even crazier than before. Cutting up cars, swerving all over the place, racing the engine ⦠it was scary.
I opened the window to let some air in.
âWant some sounds, Bren?â Robbie shouted, jerking his head around. âEh? What dâyou want? Bit oâ boom? You want some boo-oom!â
Brendell just looked at him. He was a big man, in his late twenties or early thirties, dressed in a faded grey T-shirt and dusty jeans, with a raw-looking face and large, weathered hands which he held flat on his knees. All I really knew about him was that he lived on a houseboat on the west of the island and that he wasnât a man to be messed with. He smelled of chemicals and sweat.
Robbie turned and grinned at him again. âSay what? Wanna smoke? Whooo! Smokeen Joanna! You want some boom-boom? Angeâll getââ
âJust drive the car,â Brendell said quietly.
âOkey dokey, Bren,â Robbie replied happily. âOkey bloody dokey.â
The outskirts of town blurred past and before I knew it we were heading out along the country lanes back to the island. Although I was still feeling a bit whoozy, the air rushing in through the open window was beginning to clear my head and I was starting to feel a little better.
Bill, though â well, Bill was suffering. Slumped against the window, with her head in her hands and her skirt all rucked up and mascara smudged around her eyes, she looked a complete mess. I didnât feel much sympathy for her. In fact, I didnât feel
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