Rocky sighed, shifted in his seat, brushed stray hair from his eyes.
“No. He isn’t into drugs. But he might be into you.”
“What?” She almost leaped out of her seat. Cordwainer had to be at least twenty years older than her. “Get real.”
“You don’t believe me? I’ve seen pretty girls come and go behind that change booth counter, Flipp. You’ve got a bit more about you than they have, but all the same…I don’t want anything to happen…”
Flipp’s scalp was crawling, as if the mosquitoes beginning to buzz in the early summer dusk around them were landing in her hair. What could Rocky possibly mean? It seemed she was destined not to find out that night. He let go of her, stood abruptly and held out the leather jacket for her to put on.
“We’d best get back. I’ve got to meet somebody in town at nine.”
She stood up and let him leather her up. “Just to let you know,” she said, pulling the jacket around her to keep out the growing cold, “you haven’t freaked me out. If that’s what you’re trying to do.”
“I don’t want to freak you out.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind, his hands clasped over hers. It felt so comfortable, so protective, Flipp could have been struck by lightning and rooted to the spot and she wouldn’t have minded. “I’m just trying to watch out for you. In my cack-handed way. Come on.”
He led her over to the bike. The ride home was different. The country lanes were growing dark, and there was nothing to navigate by save the shadowy shape of the hedgerow until they reached the coast road. Up here, the lights of Goldsands twinkled beneath the sunken red sun, like fireflies. They rode into their inviting brightness, coming from dark to light, from rural innocence to urban experience. Flipp held on to Rocky’s waist, her knees clamped tightly to the seat, and whooped with excitement as he bombed along the downhill road, only slowing when the lights became denser and houses began to appear along the verges.
Then there were cul-de-sacs, garages, supermarkets, schools; then bed-and-breakfasts, minimarts, takeaways. Then they were on the prom, rolling past strolling lovers and gangs of youths brandishing lager cans while shopkeepers closed their shutters over inflatable whales and racks of plastic sunglasses.
At the pier, Rocky switched off the engine and deposited Flipp at the entrance. She could see the winking Caesar’s Palace sign at the far end.
“Bye, then,” she said, undoing her chinstrap with all the bravado she could muster. “It’s been real.”
Rocky took the spare helmet and tucked it under his arm. “It is real.” He tipped her chin with a finger and kissed her, fleetingly. She shook her head and shrugged off the jacket.
“Don’t string me along,” she said crossly. “You don’t want more than a shag, you’ve made that clear.”
“Did I say that? I didn’t say that, did I? I just can’t make any promises, that’s all. See you later, Flipp.”
It galled her to hope so, it really did. But she hoped so.
Chapter Two
If he’s late this time, I’m dumping him. I mean, I’m totally serious. I’m not standing on these minging seaweedy back pier steps a minute longer than I have to—and I’m certainly not going to sit down on them. Eighty quid this skirt cost in Karen Millen, and I nearly lost a heel on the way down as well.
It was getting dark now. They’d just switched the coloured lights on along the Esplanade, looping from one end to the other, making Goldsands look like a fairy-tale place instead of the bloody nightmare it was. Still, Laura would be out of there soon. And until then, she had Rocky.
She could see why he always chose this place to meet. It was perfect for a secret rendezvous—hidden away and forgotten, invisible from the seafront. It creeped her out a bit, though, and it was cold and the water was too close—bits of spray washed over her feet every now and then, and she knew she’d have white salt marks all over the uppers of her shoes tomorrow. Fuck. They weren’t cheap either. Is he worth it? Is he really worth it?
She asked herself this question a lot, especially when she was hanging on to this rail, listening to the wind whip up over the roaring and screaming from the waltzers halfway down the pier. She could smell hot sugar and slimy sea wrack; it made her stomach rumble. She hadn’t eaten tonight and one of those foul hot dogs they sold at the fairground was starting to look like an attractive proposition. Rocky could buy her one. Is he worth it? Yes. If only to imagine the look on Daddy’s face if he knew we were shagging in secret, yes, he is worth it.
The minute Laura had seen him, she knew she had to have him.
It was Carnival Day, and she was Carnival Queen. She’d spent all morning having hair, nails, face done with those two stupid bitch attendants of hers. They couldn’t handle the fact that they had lost the vote to a better candidate, and their mean-spirited whingeing was starting to really piss Laura off. As if either of them stood a real chance. Jules was a size ten at least, and Tiff was from Pleasant Crescent. Whereas Laura had a modelling portfolio and a decent education. I mean, duh.
The three of them stepped out of the taxi and into the car park where all the floats were gathering, ready for the procession. In pride of place stood the Carnival Queen carriage, decorated to look like a floral bower, with Laura’s red velvet throne on a high platform and her attendants’ seats lower down at either side.
“Oh, isn’t it beautiful?” Laura exclaimed, excited at seeing her tiara and sash laid out on the throne.
“I expect your dad’ll buy it for you if you like it,” said Tiff sourly. “He’s already bought the tiara, mind you, hasn’t he?”
Jules cackled along with her, and Laura saw red.
“At least he’d buy it. What’s your father in prison for again?”
It was a low blow, she had to admit, but Tiff had been winding her up for hours, and Laura still didn’t think she deserved the whirlwind of teeth and claws that followed. She remembered being on the ground, screaming and shielding her face, terrified that Tiff was going to scar her, and then Elite would never give her another job, when someone yanked the wildcat off and hurled her in the direction of a pair of security guards.
Then there was a shadow leaning over Laura, a man’s shadow, tall and broad-shouldered, stubbly face and concerned blue eyes.