Missing Ellen (6 page)

Ellen leaned around me. ‘Come on, let’s risk it now!’ she said. ‘I can’t see any parents or teachers – and none of those little first years would dare say anything to us!’

We walked briskly past the tennis club, not wanting to draw any attention by running – anyway Ellen’s heels didn’t look like they would stand too much running. Soon we were well out of sight of the hall. I began to relax a little. As Ellen liked to say, what’s the worst that could happen?

The pub was packed. Ellen elbowed her way through and I followed, clinging on to her bag so I wouldn’t lose sight of her. She jostled someone’s arm, spilling her drink, and the woman snapped ‘Hey, look where you’re going!’

‘Sorry!’ I gasped, pushing Ellen on before she could snap back at her.

One of the barmen, a young man with very short hair and a single earring, was following our progress across the bar. I tried to keep my head down, thinking he was working out how old we were. Then I realised that what was attracting his interest was Ellen’s short skirt – or rather her long legs.

Finally Ellen found us some seats, a couple of low stools at the edge of someone else’s table. She shoved aside someone’s coat and sat down.

‘Great, we’ve got a pretty good view of the band from here,’ she said, waving her hand in the direction of the small platform where the band were beginning to set up. I noticed she seemed to be paying particular attention to one of them – a young guy of about nineteen or twenty dressed all in
black, with slightly greasy-looking long hair tied back in a ponytail. Not my type, which meant he probably was Ellen’s.

I couldn’t stop feeling self-conscious. Ellen’s purple top was a bit lower than I realised – I could see the edge of my white bra peeping out at the top. I tried to surreptitiously pull it down at the back.

I needed somewhere to put my hands. We weren’t close enough to the table to hide them under there, and I was
suddenly
very aware of them just sitting there in my lap.

‘I’ll get us some drinks, will I?’ I suggested. I wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of fighting my way to the bar, but at least we might blend in a bit better if we were sipping on drinks instead of just sitting there.

‘Make mine a vodka and Coke!’ Ellen responded.

I groaned inwardly. As if it wasn’t bad enough that we had snuck off to a pub while our mums thought we were at the teen disco, now she wanted us to get caught drinking alcohol? I mean, my parents don’t mind me having a glass of wine with dinner at home with them. Actually they sort of encourage it. They like to think they are being terribly cool and laidback. And they seem to think that if I can have it at home I won’t feel the need to go to pubs or hang around with my friends outside off-licences, pooling our money and hoping someone will buy us some beer. So any time they’re opening a bottle of wine for Sunday dinner or whatever, they’ll pour me a small glass, and then tease me that I’m
getting 
merry when I’m nothing of the sort.

But vodka? And in a pub where we shouldn’t have been in the first place?

Ellen didn’t seem to notice my reaction so I made my way to the bar, wondering what to do. Should I buy her a vodka and just get a Coke for myself? Should I stop being such a wimp and just get us both vodkas? One each couldn’t hurt, could it? Would the barman even serve me?

A couple of girls of nineteen or twenty, looking very glamorous in glittering eye shadow and short dresses, let me squeeze in beside them at the bar. It was packed and stuffy and I was starting to be glad Ellen hadn’t let me bring my jacket. Eventually the barman noticed me – the same one who hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Ellen’s long brown legs as we made our way in.

My courage deserted me. ‘Two Cokes please,’ I muttered. He brought me my order without comment and I scuttled back to Ellen, glad the ordeal was over.

She wasn’t alone. The guy in black, who’d been setting up for the band, was sitting in my place. Ellen had edged closer to the table and was leaning her elbow on it, head resting on her hand as she giggled at something he was saying.

I cleared my throat.

‘Oh Pete, this is my friend Maggie,’ Ellen said. ‘Maggie, this is Pete. He’s with the band.’

The way she said it it might have been U2 he was with,
not some amateur pub band playing their fourth or fifth gig. I noticed his T-shirt had the name Flaming Moes printed on it, along with an ugly-looking skull and crossbones.

‘Hi,’ I said shyly.

Pete gave me a lazy smile. ‘Maggie, is it? Wait till you see the band, they’ve been working on some new material and it’s pretty damn good.’

He made no attempt to get out of my seat. I stood there awkwardly, still holding the Cokes. Ellen reached out to take one from me.

‘Sorry, it’s just Coke,’ I said. ‘The barman was asking for ID so I was afraid we’d get thrown out.’ I blushed as I spoke. I’ve never been any good at lying.

‘You can’t listen to the Flaming Moes when you’re
drinking
coke!’ Pete said. ‘I’ll get you some proper drinks. Vodka, is it? Or Bacardi?’

‘Vodka, please.’ Ellen gave him her most engaging smile, the one she uses to wrap her dad around her little finger.

My heart sank. I couldn’t make up another excuse now or I’d have to admit I lied about not getting served. Oh well, one vodka couldn’t do much harm.

Pete started battling his way to the bar just as the band began their first song. Actually I don’t think you could really call it a song, it was really just a lot of noise. Oh dear, I sound like my dad now, but I just can’t bear music where the drums are so loud you can’t even hear the words. The lyrics are the
most important part of the song to me.

‘This is brilliant!’ Ellen screeched, bouncing up and down on her stool. Pete arrived back with the vodkas and Ellen tipped the Cokes into them, handing one to me. I sipped it cautiously, feeling the warmth spreading to my stomach. It felt quite good actually and I could feel myself starting to relax a little.

Seven pieces of noise – sorry, songs – later, my ears were ringing, I was too hot, the flashing lights were getting to me and my head was starting to swim. Ellen was deep in
conversation
with Pete, though goodness knows how they were managing to understand each other. I’d given up trying to shout in Ellen’s ear above the noise, it just wasn’t worth the effort.

Liam would have given up on us by now. He might even have started talking to Siobhan Brady and her friends. Siobhan has always had a thing for Liam though she’d never admit it in front of Ellen. Ellen doesn’t want Liam for herself but she doesn’t want anyone else to have him either.

I glanced at my watch. It was five to twelve! The disco was finishing at midnight – Mum would probably be there waiting already.

I touched Ellen’s arm. ‘Ellen, we have to go!’

‘What?!’ she shouted.

I pointed to my watch. ‘WE – HAVE – TO – GO!’ I mouthed.

‘Oh, come on, let’s just stay for one more song! It won’t matter if we’re a few minutes late.’

‘Not leaving already, are you? The night’s just getting started. I was just starting to enjoy myself,’ Pete said,
sweeping
his hand out in a gesture that might have meant the band, the entire pub, or just himself and Ellen.

Ellen was wavering. I thought of the one argument that might persuade her. ‘If we get caught we’ll be grounded for weeks. There’s no way we’ll get to see the next gig,’ I said urgently.

‘What’s the matter, are you some kind of Cinderella? Afraid you’ll turn into a pumpkin at midnight?’ Pete laughed at his own pathetic joke.

I didn’t like his mocking tone or the horrible sneering look on his face. Actually I didn’t like much about Pete at all.

‘Actually it was the carriage that turned into a pumpkin, not Cinderella,’ I snapped – just as the band finished a song. My words seemed to echo in the sudden silence. There were a few sniggers and several heads turned to stare. I felt my face turn crimson. What the hell was I doing, nitpicking over the technicalities of a fairytale?

Pete guffawed loudly. ‘Well, I’m sure you know better than me. Off you go then, back to your fairy castle or wherever it is you princesses hang out these days.’

‘Come on then,’ Ellen said crossly, diving under the table to find her bag. I certainly wasn’t doing much for the cool sophisticated image she was trying to portray. But right then I didn’t care. All I wanted was to be out of that place. 

I didn’t wait for her to make her goodbyes, just rushed for the door. Outside, I moved away from the small group
standing
smoking and waited for Ellen, willing her to hurry up.

She appeared at my side. ‘Suppose we’d better make a run for it!’ she giggled, taking off her silver sandals and hitching the bag over her shoulder. We dashed down the road, Ellen squealing as she tried to avoid puddles in her bare feet. I just hoped there wasn’t any shattered glass or anything else nasty lying around.

We made it back to the tennis club just in time. People were spilling out of the hall in small groups, talking and laughing. Ellen scrambled into her sandals as I looked around anxiously for Mum’s car.

‘Hey, where did you two get to?’ demanded a voice behind me. I whirled around to see Siobhan, arm in arm with one of her cronies, eying us suspiciously.

‘What’s it to you …’ I started to say, before Ellen
interrupted
me.

‘What are you talking about? We had a great time, didn’t we Ellen? Best disco in ages. Oh look, there’s your mum!’

We hastily made our way over to Mum’s car. She was
scanning
the crowd of teenagers, looking a little anxious. Her expression changed as she saw us approach, first relief, and then a little frown as her eyes travelled over Ellen’s outfit.

‘Oh no – you forgot to change back into your jeans,’ I muttered, nudging her. 

I tugged open the back door and we piled in. We always sit in the back together when it’s just us. We’ve done it since we were kids, pretending to be princesses being driven around by our chauffeur.

‘Hello girls. Good night?’ Mum asked. She was still
looking
at Ellen’s skirt, though she didn’t say anything.

‘It was brilliant, wasn’t it Maggie?’ Ellen said, smiling. ‘Except that idiot Siobhan Brady spilled a glass of lemonade on my jeans and I had to get this skirt from the costume cupboard, can you believe it?’

As we drove away, the last thing I saw was Liam, standing at the side of the road looking after the car, a puzzled frown on his face.