The Rock'n'Roll Romance Box Set (Pam Howes Rock'n'Roll Romance Series) (3 page)

‘Another?’ Jane said as the man dashed away.

‘There’s not much left.’
Roy
split the remains of the bottle
between Sammy and Jane. ‘We had to do something to pass the time while we
waited for you.’

The waiter brought more wine and took their
food orders.
Roy
topped up his and Mark’s glasses and smiled.

‘Happy Valentine’s Day,’ Mark said. He clinked
glasses with Jane.

‘Same to you.’

‘You okay?’

She nodded. ‘Bit tired.’

‘Maybe we should have an early night.’ He
leered at her cleavage.

She realised he was drunk and looked at
Roy
. ‘Have you two had something to
drink as well as the wine?’

‘A whisky, while we were waiting to be seated,’
Roy
said.

‘A double,’ Mark slurred as the waiter brought
the food to the table.

Jane frowned and toyed with her meal. Mark was
always argumentative when he’d been drinking. Great. That was all she needed.
She stared at him, as he tucked into his prawn cocktail, and wanted to cry.

***

They said goodnight to Roy and Sammy outside
their room and carried on down the corridor. Jane unlocked the door and Mark
pulled her inside. She shook his arm off, made for the bathroom and sat on the
side of the bath, tears running down her cheeks, wondering what sort of a
Valentine’s Day Eddie and Angie were having. She thought back to the night
Angie had presented them with her news and replayed the scene in her head, as
she’d done so many times. She’d leapt out of bed, pushed Eddie out of the way
and ran into the bathroom, retching. He’d knocked on the door with her clothes
in his hand, white faced, telling her it couldn’t be his kid. He told her he
loved her, would sort it out and not to worry, they would soon be married. But
it was Angie he married a month later.

Mark knocked on the door, startling her from
her thoughts. ‘Be out in a minute,’ she called. She slipped out of her clothes
and into her silk robe, tying it tightly round her middle. He was sitting on
the bed, naked to his waist and held out his hand. He ran his finger over the
Woolies fake wedding ring he’d made her wear. She stared into his eyes, her
stomach flipping over at the unfathomable look he was giving her. He pulled her
into his arms and kissed her long and hard. She wriggled away but his grip
tightened and he pushed her backwards and lay on top of her. He tried to force
her legs apart as she struggled against his weight.

‘Stop it, Mark. Get off me.’ She pushed against
his chest with all her might. He flopped onto his back and she leapt off the
bed.

‘What’s wrong with you?’ he shouted. ‘For
fuck’s sake, you’re supposed to love me. Why else did you agree to bloody marry
me? Come on, stop playing hard to get.’ He jumped up and glared at her. ‘This
should be a special night for us, first time and all that.’

She backed up to the door as he came towards
her. She should tell him now, get it over with. ‘It’s not,’ she said, ‘my first
time, I mean.’

‘What?’ He stared at her, his eyes cold. ‘What
the fuck are you saying?’

‘I slept with Ed.’

He grabbed her shoulders. ‘You’ve been shagging
Mellor behind my back?’

‘Of course not. It was before we got together.’

He shook her roughly. ‘So why have you been
acting the innocent with
me?
 
Saving it for our wedding day? You’re a
fucking joke!’

‘I’m sorry,’ she cried. ‘I just can't. I loved
Ed. I don’t love
you.
I should have
told you before, but I didn’t know how.’ She pulled off her rings and threw
them at him. ‘It’s over.’ She shot out of the room, down the corridor and
hammered on
Roy
and Sammy’s door.

Roy
, a towel wrapped around his middle,
opened the door and Jane ran in, startling him.

‘Shut the door,
Roy
, quick.’

Sammy came out of the bathroom, also wrapped in
a towel. ‘What’s going on?’ she said as Jane collapsed on the bed, sobbing.
There was a loud knock and
Roy
let in Mark.

‘Jane, get back to our room at once,’ Mark
demanded, face like thunder as he went to grab her arm.

‘Hang on a minute, mate.’
Roy
pulled him back. ‘What the fuck’s
going on? Why’s Jane in this state?’

‘I told him I don’t love him,’ Jane cried. ‘And
I’ve told him about Ed. I’ve given him back his ring. It’s over, Mark. Go
away.’

‘Pu-please come and talk to me,’ Mark
stuttered, his face twisted. ‘You owe me that at least. You’ve led me on all
this time and lied to me. You little slut.’ He lunged for her again and
Roy
thumped him squarely on the jaw.

‘Leave it,’ he said as Mark reeled backwards.
‘Get back to your own room. I’ll be with you when I’ve put some clothes on.
Jane, stay here with Sam. I’ll stay with him.’

‘You sure?’ Jane sniffed. ‘I’ve spoiled your
night.’

Don’t worry, Jane.’ Sammy put her arms around
her. ‘I’d rather you were safe in here with me.' She glared at Mark. 'I knew
this would happen. You shouldn’t have booked this weekend. If you’d any sense
you’d have seen signs that it was over weeks ago.’

Mark frowned and rubbed his chin. ‘I was trying
to put things right. How was
I
to
know she’d shagged Mellor?’ He turned to Jane. ‘I might be able to forgive you
for that in time. Have your ring back. Come and talk to me.’

‘No!’ Jane shook her head. ‘It’s finished. Just
leave me alone.’

Mark clenched his fists. ‘Well if I can’t have,
you, I’ll make sure nobody else can!’

‘Right, that’s enough.’
Roy
pushed Mark towards the door. ‘Get
out. I’ll be with you in a minute.’

Mark left, after giving Jane a final cold
stare.

She shook her head. ‘I honestly thought he was
going to rape me. He had such a weird look in his eyes.’

Roy
poured the girls a brandy from the
drinks tray. ‘Get that down you and try to sleep. We’ll take a train home first
thing tomorrow. I don’t fancy travelling back in the car with him. Not after
that bloody threat. I wouldn’t trust him not to wrap it round a tree and kill
us all.’

***

Left alone with Sammy, Jane stretched out on
the bed.

‘I’m really sorry, I spoiled your night,’ she
said again.

‘It’s okay. We had a good time before we went
down to dinner. It’ll keep us going for a while.’

‘You
are
lucky, Sam, being with the boy you love.
 
I so wish I was with Ed. If only we could turn the clock back.’

‘Ed feels the same,’ Sammy said. ‘
Roy
will tell him what’s happened this
weekend. I’m sure he’ll want to get in touch. He asks us every week if you’re
still with Mark and he always looks sad when we say you are.’

‘Does he?’ Jane’s face lit up, followed by a
frown. ‘What about Angie?’

‘Ed’s ready to walk. He only stays with her for
Jonny.’

‘So you think there’s a chance he might leave
her?’

‘I think there’s every chance, Jane. Especially
when he knows you’re free.’

***

CHAPTER
THREE

PICKFORD,
CHESHIRE
:

‘For Christ’s sake, not again!’
Eddie leapt backwards as the tin of paint hit the factory floor with a
resounding thud. The lid flew off, spun like a two bob bit and ended paint-side
down by his feet.

He slammed a fist on the packing
bench, face and overalls spattered in sticky red gloss. 'That does it, Jack,’
he bellowed to his workmate above the noise of the
six
o’clock
hooters. ‘I’ve had enough of this bloody place to last me a
lifetime.’

As Eddie’s co-workers downed cans
and gathered round the viscous pool on the workshop floor, he continued, ‘If
that arsehole of a foreman thinks I’m staying behind to clean up this mess
he can think again.’

‘That “arsehole of a foreman”
says clean it up now, Mellor, or collect your cards! And you lot can keep your
beaks out,’ he added as two men moved forward to help. ‘Or you can
all
collect your cards.’

Eddie spun round as the group
quickly dispersed. So much for support, he thought as George Hill towered over
him. Bunch of fucking arse lickers. Didn’t they realise they were worth more than
this?

'Clean it up yourself,’ Eddie
said, squaring up to the foreman. ‘If the bloody handles were fixed on properly
in the first place it wouldn’t have happened.’

George bristled and leant in
close. Eddie could smell his sour breath and took a step backwards. ‘Either
clean it up, or sod off and don’t come back!’ George said.

'Fuck you and fuck your job!’
Eddie yelled. ‘When I leave here tonight, I won’t
be
coming back.’

George snorted and stormed off.

‘You shouldn’t argue with Hill
like that,’ Jack said. ‘You do yourself no favours.’ He threw a turpentine
soaked rag in Eddie’s direction. ‘Get yourself cleaned up in the bogs then we
can go.’

***

Jenkins paint factory was housed
in the ground floor of a redundant cotton mill and the gents' toilet block stank
of decades of stale piss. Eddie stared at his face in the cracked mirror. The
dim light and peeling yellow paint did nothing to enhance his pale complexion.
He looked weary and older than his twenty years.

Hardly surprising, the lifestyle
he’d been forced into. His carefree Jack the Lad days were long gone. His blue
eyes had lost their sparkle; his brown hair was in need of a bloody good wash
and the frown lines and two-day stubble made him look like his dad. He sighed.
Some days he felt life wasn’t worth living. He’d let everybody he cared about
down; his mates in the band, his parents, but most of all, Jane.

He swallowed hard and rubbed at
the paint splashes, bringing a glow to his cheeks. He wiped his boots, chucked
the rag on the floor and turned to the chipped and stained urinal. ‘I could
murder a pint,’ he muttered, as he unzipped and peed.

‘Them can handles are useless,’
Jack began when Eddie rejoined him in the packing department. ‘They couldn’t
hold water, never mind five gallon of gloss. And now look. You’ve gone and lost
your bloody job.’

‘Never mind that, look at the
fucking state of my new boots!’ Eddie stripped off his overalls and tossed them
onto the bench. ‘They’re ruined.’

‘Shouldn’t wear decent boots to
work,’ Jack said.

‘I’ve bugger all else. My only
other pair’s full of holes. But that’s it; I’m not staying here to be treated
like shit by George Hill. He’s had it in for me since the day I started. I hate
the job anyway. I’ll have to find something else.’

'But there’s not many jobs out
there that don’t need qualifications,’ Jack said, dragging an almost toothless
comb through his greasy quiff. ‘Angie will go bloody mad when you tell her
what’s happened. How will you pay your way with no wages coming in?’

‘She’ll have to keep me for a
week or two while I find another job. But I don’t fancy telling her that.’

‘God help you.’ Jack smirked and
shrugged into a threadbare donkey jacket. ‘And you don’t half stink of turps.
Angie will be welcoming you home with open arms, I don’t think.’

‘I’d rather she welcomed me with
open legs,’ Eddie muttered. ‘No chance of that. The only thing I’ll get my leg
over tonight is my motorbike. I fancy a pint before I go home. The smell should
have faded by then. Fancy a quick one in the Black Lion?’

‘Dutch courage, eh?’ Jack said,
‘Not like you to go boozing on a Monday. What about the book-keeping class?’

‘Can’t be bothered tonight.’
Eddie pulled on his leather biking jacket. ‘I’d rather go out with my mates,
but Angie’s got big ideas. Wants a new house with all the trimmings. Reckons
the book-keeping course will get me a better job.’

Being stuck in a bloody office
all day would be as soul destroying as the factory though. He wanted to join a
band again, make some serious money; see a bit of the world. But every time he
brought the subject up it caused a row.

‘Should have kept it zipped up,
Ed. Then you wouldn’t be in this mess. Don’t
end up like me, with a grasping missus, a houseful of kids and more regrets
than I’ve had hot dinners.’

Eddie raised his eyebrows. ‘Should
have told me that three years ago. The way things are with me and Angie,
there’ll be no more kids,
unless it’s
an immaculate conception.’

Jack smiled and slung his bag
over his shoulder. George Hill appeared in front of them. He glared at Eddie
and pointed at the paint-stained floor.

‘Thought you might have seen
sense, Mellor and cleaned that mess up. You
can collect your cards and any wages owing tomorrow at four.' He swaggered
away. Eddie stuck two fingers up behind his back and he and Jack clocked out.

‘Well, that’s that.’ Eddie blew
out his cheeks. ‘As if my life’s not bad enough. Mind you, he’s probably done
me a favour. I’ll have to find a job I really like now.’

‘Want a fag?’ Jack pulled a
crumpled packet of Woodbines from his pocket.

Eddie flicked up his collar,
shivering. ‘Ta!’ He lit up and blew a smoke ring into the cold air. He pointed
his cigarette in Jack’s direction. ‘Know what
I
need, apart from a new job that is? A bit on the side! I’m gonna
get back on stage as soon as I can. A twirl of my drumsticks, a flash of my big
blue eyes and the birds will be queuing up and begging for it.’

‘That’s the spirit. A bit on the
side’s not a bad idea either,’ Jack said ‘It’s summat I’ve often thought about
myself.’

‘You need to find the right kind
of bird,’ Eddie said as they walked across the market square towards the Black
Lion. ‘One who’ll oblige but keep her gob shut. Hey look, there’s little Brenda
Stone and her mate Julie from the typing pool. Let’s see if we can persuade ’em
to join us for a drink.’ He wolf whistled at the teenagers, who, arms linked
and giggling, slipped and slithered on the icy cobbles.

Jack cupped his hands to his
mouth and yelled, ‘Brenda, my mate fancies your friend. How about joining us
for a drink?’

Eddie smirked as Brenda shouted
back, ‘Sod off, Jack Fiddler! You’re married and so is your mate. I’m not going
out with
you
and that’s final.’

‘What about next week then?’

‘No, I don’t go out with married
men.’

‘Well I heard differently, love.’
Jack took a lengthy drag on his cigarette.

‘Oh, you did, did you?’ Brenda
picked her way carefully across the square. Hands on hips she pulled herself up
to her five-feet-nothing.

‘
What
have you heard?’ she
demanded as Julie crossed the street and took up position behind.

Eddie winked at the girl and she
smiled uncertainly back, pushing a mousy brown strand of hair behind her ear.
Julie was a skinny bird, definitely not a looker and he wasn’t
that
bloody desperate. He preferred a
girl with a bit of meat on her bones, something to get his hands on.

‘Come on, who’s told you I go out
with married men?’ Brenda was saying, breaking his thoughts. ‘Because they’re
bloody liars, whoever they are.’ She folded her arms under her huge breasts and
her beehive quivered alarmingly, reminding Eddie of a long ago romp in a
haystack with Angie.

‘Now wouldn’t you like to know?’
Jack teased. ‘Anyway, how about it? A date with me and Ed. A foursome like. He
needs someone to put a smile on his face.’

‘Piss off, Jack!’ Brenda whipped
around and faced Eddie who took a step backwards. She wagged a finger in his
face. ‘I’m surprised at you, Eddie Mellor. You’ve a lovely wife and little lad.
You shouldn’t be looking elsewhere for fun. I’ve heard tell you had plenty of
that when you were in Roy Cantello’s group.’

‘Hey, you’re gonna have my eye
out with that finger, and I’m not looking for fun. Telling your friend I fancy
her is Jack’s daft idea of a joke. Sorry to disappoint you, Julie, but you’re
not really my type.’

Julie gasped and tugged at
Brenda’s coat. ‘Let’s go, Bren. I’m not staying here to be made a fool of by
the likes of him. He thinks he’s God’s gift!’ She looked daggers at Eddie who
shrugged his shoulders as the girls turned, linked arms again and slithered
across the square towards

‘Anymore bright ideas?’ Eddie
said.

‘Too sensitive by half that
Julie,’ Jack said. ‘Anyway, it was you that upset her, telling her she’s not
your type.’

‘Too scrawny!’ Eddie tossed his
cigarette end down and ground it out with the heel of his boot. ‘So, is that
right, Brenda’s doing a turn with a married bloke?’

‘Aye, so they say,’ Jack said as
they walked into the pub. The smell of tobacco and beer perked him up. He
headed for a space at the bar and waved to catch the bar-maid’s attention.
‘Lucky bastard, whoever he is! Let’s have that pint then before I have to get
back to the ball and chain, or she’ll be thinking I’ve left home. How’s your
boy doing by the way?’

‘He’s a little devil, but Jonny’s
the best thing to come out of the last three years.’

‘Two pints of mild, Mary and have
one for yourself.’ Jack turned back to Eddie after staring at Mary’s cleavage.
‘Put your cash away, lad, it’s my treat tonight.’

Eddie led the way to a vacant
table at the back of the crowded pub. He looked around to see if there was anyone
he knew, but the pub was full of old men playing dominoes and shove-ha'penny.
He shook his head. This bloody pub was like an old folks’ home. It was time the
landlord got with it and installed a jukebox and put some decent birds behind
the bar. The flaking walls, brown from years of fag smoke, needed a lick of
paint, and the stone flag floor was chipped and worn.

The only noise was the low murmur
of masculine voices and the odd outburst of laughter. The only woman brave
enough to venture in here was good old Mary, who, rumour had it, had worked in
the pub since the war, serving the troops with more than a pint and a smile.
Eddie and Jack sat in companionable silence, supping their beer. They looked up
as a bunch of morose looking men strolled in and stood by the bar.

‘See that lot.’ Jack pointed with
his glass. ‘They’re from Jackson’s
brickworks down the road. Married fellows for the most, and I bet you a penny
to a pound that none of 'em wants to go home before downing a pint of Dutch
courage. I don’t know what the hell happens to women after you marry ’em, but
they all turn into their mothers eventually.’

‘Angie couldn’t be more like her
mother if she tried.’ Eddie knocked back his drink. ‘The interfering old bat
does my bloody head in.’ He belched loudly and banged his empty pot down on the
table. ‘Fancy another?’

‘No ta, mate, this is enough for
me.’ Jack swallowed the remainder of his pint.

‘I’ll get off home then.’ Eddie
stood up, stretched his arms above his head and yawned. ‘I’ll call at my mum’s
first, see if there's any messages from my friends. Want a lift?’

‘It’s out of your way, Ed. I’ll
get the bus. Good luck telling Angie your news.’

‘Thanks, I’ll need it. See you
tomorrow when I collect my cards.’

‘Not if I see you first,
sunshine!’

***

Eddie strolled back across the
square to the factory car park. He nodded to two men who were erecting stalls
for Tuesday’s market and looked up at the clear, starlit sky, his breath making
clouds in the freezing night air. Too cold for snow, as his mum would say. He
could smell the hops from Robinson’s Brewery and wondered how something that
stank so foul could taste so wonderful when finished. He climbed aboard his old
Triumph motorbike and shot off in the direction of his parents’ home, loving
the way the wind whipped his hair around his face. He pulled up outside the
neat semi-detached house that had been his childhood home and switched off the
engine.

‘Hi, Mum,’ he called out as
Lillian Mellor opened the front door, a welcoming smile lighting up her lined face

‘I thought I heard the bike. Come
on in and get warm, love. You look perished. I was hoping you’d call in
tonight. Roy rang earlier and said
if I saw you I was to tell you he’s some news for you. He’s helping his dad in
the fruit shop, so you can phone him there.’

Eddie kissed his mother’s cheek
and followed her down the hallway into the warm parlour. The house smelled
clean and fresh, of Dettol, bleach and lavender furniture polish. It felt
homely and familiar and he swallowed the lump that rose in his throat, wishing
he still lived here. His mum was wearing her old checked cleaning skirt, her
feet encased in blue fluffy slippers and her grey curls tucked inside a neatly
tied turban.

‘Did Roy
say it was good news or bad?’ Eddie smoothed down his windswept hair and
removed his jacket. He dropped it on the floor and held out his cold hands in
front of the blazing fire.

‘He didn’t say one-way or the
other. Go and call him while I pour you a mug of tea. You should wear your
gloves on that bike, it’s bitter out there.’