The Girl by the Thames (2 page)

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Authors: Peter Boland

BOOK: The Girl by the Thames
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Inside they could hear the deep muttering of men’s voices coming from the lounge. Her dad had visitors, which was odd as he had hardly any friends apart from the ones he drank with, and they only ever met down the pub. Tanya wasn’t really bothered what he got up to as long as it didn’t affect her. That was how they lived. She and her father were strangers under the same roof.

Tanya crept to the kitchen while Lena waited by the lounge door. On the worktop by the sink, Tanya noticed a small mountain of mashed teabags and half a packet of biscuits. Her father was really going for it with the hospitality. He was trying to impress someone; buying biscuits to share with other people was not in his skinflint nature.

Tanya took the knife out of her pocket and slid it back into the drawer. She was just about to rejoin Lena when a thought stopped her. There was something she suddenly remembered. Tanya opened the dilapidated cupboard doors, which were barely clinging to the tired old kitchen units, and started shifting around the junk inside. It was stuffed with things that had been used once and then forgotten about. Old toast racks fought for space with broken sandwich makers and kettles without plugs.

“What are you doing?” demanded Lena, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Just wait,” replied Tanya. She emerged from the kitchen victorious, holding up a bottle of scotch that was nearly full. “Ta-da,” she said mouthing the words quietly.

Lena started doing a little dance and that was when the lounge door opened. Tanya’s dad poked his shaven head out. “Oh, it’s you, Lena,” he said.

Lena immediately stopped dancing. Tanya turned her back and slotted the whiskey into her jacket and quickly zipped it up. His face changed into a miserable grimace when he saw Tanya.

“What are you up to?” he asked, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door swiftly behind him. He held on to the door knob, preventing anyone coming out or going in.

“Nothing,” Tanya said, “What’s going on in there?”

“Never you mind. You two, do me a favour and hop it. I’ve got some people I need to talk tonight about some business.”

“Business?” Tanya laughed. “What do you know about business?”

“Both of you get lost,” her father said, pushing them towards the front door. He never liked having Tanya around but tonight he seemed even more desperate to get rid of her.

“Can I have some money?” Tanya asked.

“Do you want another black eye?”

“Come on, Lena, let’s go.” Tanya said, dragging her friend by the arm. Once outside and safely along the walkway, Lena stopped.

“Is your dad hitting you again?” she asked.

“No.”

“Because if he is …”

“What? What are you gonna do?”

“Well, you know social services and that, they do stuff to blokes like him.”

“No they don’t. And don’t you go telling them neither. He finds out about it and I’ll get something worse than a black eye. All right?”

“Tanya, it’s just ...”

“Look I just want to get drunk and have fun tonight. Okay? Nothing heavy.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Tanya retrieved the whiskey from her jacket and spun the top off the bottle. It rolled along the floor then dropped off the edge of the walkway. A second later they heard it ping on the ground, three stories below.

“Well, we ain’t gonna be needing that anymore,” Tanya giggled as she took a big slug. She gasped slightly. “Oh, that’s better.”

“Come on, bitch, share the winnings.” Lena relieved Tanya of the bottle and
started drinking. “This ain’t going to last all night, you know.”

“I know, but it’ll do us until we get to the party.”

Chapter 2

“Where the hell we going?” Lena had been getting anxious since they had stuffed the empty whisky bottle in a hedge. She had the taste for liquor and wanted to wrap her lips around another bottle, sooner rather than later.

“I told you, we’re going to get alcohol,” Tanya replied.

“Where from?”

“I’ve got an idea. Now shut up or I’ll get lost.”

“Tell me, where is it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll dis’ my idea, then we’ll have to think of something else.”

“We ain’t going to nick something from Sainsbury’s cos you know it’s closed, don’t you? It’s nearly eleven.”

“Good, we’ll be right on time.”

“Right on time for what?”

“You’ll see.”

“Just tell me where we’re going.”

“Nah, it’s a surprise.”

“Just tell me.”

Tanya continued walking with Lena following behind like a spoilt child after its mother. Finally they stopped outside the Anglian College of London. It was a 70s abomination, like a stack of tatty box files on their sides. The nicotine yellow of its cold concrete walls could have only been improved by taking a wrecking ball to them.

“What are we doing at this dump?” Lena asked. Tanya decided it was time to put her out of her misery.

“We need drink, so we need to get it from someone who’s not going to judge us,” Tanya said. Lena’s face looked blank. “We should be asking people who like getting lashed, not tight old gits in vans.”

“Who?”

“Students,” said Tanya, pointing across the road.

Just then, the heavy fire door in the side of the wall opened like a wound, spilling red light out onto the dull grey night. Seconds later, the stale warm smell of beer and sweat wafted across to the girls.

Then they appeared. An army of drunken, wobbly teenagers falling out onto the pavement. There were loud happy shouts, hoots and giggles, and some even tried to sing. The bouncing mob of excitable youths walked off in different directions, like a load of juvenile chimps.

“Oh, that’s genius, Tan.” Lena’s voice was genuinely enthusiastic. She stepped out in the road to go after them until Tanya pulled her back.

“Wait,” said Tanya.

“Why?”

“We need to be smart and pick the right ones. Them two.” Tanya pointed out a pair of boys who were quieter than the rest, but still swaying around like metronomes. “They’re perfect.”

“They’re nerds.”

“Exactly. Come on.”

Tanya and Lena walked alongside them.

“Hi,” said Tanya, “Having a good night?”

“Er, yeah,” said the smallest of the two, but his half-lidded eyes were fixed on Lena. He sobered up slightly and tried to be cooler. “I mean, yeah, we’re having fun, aren’t we, Martin.”

Martin was already fixated with Tanya and stared down at her. He was tape-measure thin and just as long, lollopping along like he was in continual danger of falling over.

“I’m Tanya and this is Lena.”

“Alright,” said Lena.

“Hello,” the two boys said together.

“So, gonna buy us some drink, then?” asked Lena. Tanya immediately elbowed her in the ribs for having the subtlety of a truck.

“Sorry, about my friend,” Tanya said. “We just thought we’d hang out for a bit and maybe …”

“We’ll buy you some drink,” the short one said, a little too eagerly.

“Yeah,” said Martin, “we’re on our way to the all-night garage, wanna come?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” said Tanya

“Cool,” added Lena.

When they got there, Tanya and Lena watched the two boys join the horde of students emptying the place of crisps, chocolate and microwavable food. The boys emerged from the petrol station with a saggy plastic bag full of junk food. They also carried what Tanya and Lena had been craving all night: two plastic bottles, each one full of two and a half litres of strong cider.

“Wow, thanks,” said Tanya, cradling the cider like she’d been handed a new-born baby. Lena was less polite and after managing to say ‘cheers’, cracked open the top and began guzzling. Tanya followed suit.

“Want some?” Tanya offered.

“No,” said the shorter student, “I’ve had enough tonight, I need to get something salty down my throat.” At this, Lena erupted into laughter. Cider mixed with snot bubbled out of her nose.

“What’s so funny?” he said.

“You sound gay,” said Lena.

“I’m not gay,” he replied, sounding worried.

“It just sounded gay,” Tanya said, “you know, something salty down your throat.”

“Oh, right, no I meant crisps” he said. “Did you know, that one of the main reasons you get a hangover is because the alcohol leeches the salt from your body?”

“What?” asked Lena, wiping her face with her cuff.

“Yes, it’s a medical fact that the prime reason for a hangover is the lack of salt in your blood.”

“And vitamin C,” Martin added.

The mini-chemistry lesson silenced the conversation. The four of them stood looking at each other. The only sound came from Lena who glugged back her bottle of cider.

Tanya smiled, still tying to uphold some sort of politeness. Lena stopped to come up for air.

“Okay, we’ve got to go,” she said, turning to walk away.

Tanya edged away, still looking at the two boys “Bye,” she said apologetically. “Thanks for the drink.” Then she turned and jogged after Lena.

“Don’t you want to come back to ours?” the shorter student shouted after them.

“Hah,” laughed Lena, “What and get something salty down my throat? No thanks.”

Tanya glanced back at the two boys and waved. A pinprick of guilt jabbed her. They were nice guys and probably didn’t deserve such a harsh brush off. She saw the looks on their faces, as their chance of pulling evaporated before them. She knew they would immediately start blaming each other, over-analysing every single word to see where they’d gone wrong. In reality they’d never stood a chance.

“You’re in a hurry,” said Tanya.

“What? Did you want to hang out with those losers?”

“No, but they gave us this.”

“Well they’re stupid and you’re soft.”

“I’m not. Just thinking, what if we need to use them again?”

“Well, we’ll try someone else, don’t worry about it.”

“All I’m saying is if we kept them sweet they could’ve got us stuff whenever we wanted.”

“You want to go back there then?”

“Bit late now, innit.”

“Tanya, you think too much. Let’s neck this and get to the party.”

“Alright.”

Both girls upturned their bottles and let the fizzy booze freefall down their throats. They stopped briefly to let out cavernous burps. They laughed at each other and then gulped down the rest of the cider.

Lena finished first and threw the empty bottle into a garden. Tanya tried to drop kick hers but missed and fell back onto the pavement like a toppled domino. The bottle rolled into the gutter.

“You pissed already?” said Lena pulling her friend upright.

“No, I meant to do that, cool weren’t it?”

“You mental.”

“You the mental,” said Tanya whose words were getting lazy and slow.
Lena coupled her arm around Tanya’s and tugged her in the direction of the pedestrian tunnel that ran underneath the Thames. The entrance looked like a Victorian public toilet, only grander. It was a red-brick drum with a copper roof that had turned lime green with age. The girls began the mission of descending the long spiral staircase that screwed its way into the earth.

“I’m tired of this,” Tanya said.

“Lightweight, we’re nearly at the bottom.”

Tanya sat on one of the steps. “Let’s take a break.” Lena joined her.

“Who do you think those blokes were at my dad’s flat?” asked Tanya. “I mean did you get a look at them?”

“Dunno, just looked like ordinary fellas really,” Lena replied. “They weren’t fit or nothing.”

Tanya laughed. “Is that all you think about?”

“No, I think about other things too.”

“What like?”

“Beer, fighting.”

“Nice,” Tanya said.

“Well, what else is there?”

“True.” Tanya started nudging a cigarette butt on the floor with her foot.

“Didn’t you think it was weird how he closed the door when I came along?”

“No, not really. Just wanted some privacy didn’t he.”

“But he was fine when you were standing there, then when I came along he closed it, like he didn’t want me to see something.”

“Maybe he’s throwing a surprise birthday for you.”

“Ha, he’s never thrown any sort of party for me.”

“You serious?”

“Yeah, in all the years you’ve known me, when did I ever have a birthday party?”

“Well, never. That’s harsh.”

“Nice guy, my dad.” Tanya kicked the cigarette butt away and it tumbled down the stairs. “He’s the real caring kind. Come on, let’s go.” Tanya hoisted Lena to her feet and the girls continued their descent.

Finally they were in the long white tube that ducked under the Thames. It was lined with white tiles that had probably been clean once, but the harsh light illuminated every scuff and stain. It was like a Bond-villain’s lair. There was something about being in the tunnel that made you want to run and shout. Maybe it was because it sloped down in the middle and then climbed back up again at the other end, or perhaps it was the delicious echo that bounced off the harsh surface. Neither of the girls could resist it and bolted like runaways, screaming daft noises.

As they reached the middle their adrenalin ran out and they slowed to a dawdle.

“Why’d we just do that?” asked Lena, bending over with her hands on her knees.

“Dunno, probably cos we’re a bit smashed.”

“We’re going to be knackered for this party and we ain’t even there yet.”

“Yeah. Hope there’s some Red Bull.”

At the other end they climbed the spiral staircase, stopping briefly to complain like old ladies, until they were deposited into the open air on the north bank of the Thames.

They slumped on a nearby bench.

“Man, this is taking ages,” Lena said.

“I know. Better be worth it.”

“It will. I mean, what else we gonna do?”

“True. S’pose we better get moving then.”

 

The party was on an estate nearly identical to theirs. A cheap 1950s solution to a housing shortage that did nothing for anyone except keep the rain off their heads, and even that wasn’t a guarantee. It was a tired low-rise block, long and rectangular, stacked with rabbit-hutch flats, which were reached by life-threatening stairwells and skinny concrete walkways.

“Looks just like your gaff,” said Lena.

“Yeah, you take me to all the best places, doncha?”

Finding the party wasn’t difficult. They followed the bassy music and the shouts and screams up to the third floor. Every door along the walkway was shut tightly. Some had metal cages across them for extra security, except the last one which was wide open.

As they got closer, they saw the silhouette of Tyrone with his distinctive flat-top hair. It was dyed blond in contrast to his black skin, making him look like a pint of Guinness. He was launching phlegm off the balcony onto the cars down below.

“Yeah,” he said, punching the air as he scored another direct hit. The girls ignored his lame attempt at being cool. He turned to look at them as they approached the front door.

“Look who it is,” he said, checking them out as if they were houses he was thinking of burgling, “it’s the ‘ah’ girls.”

“Ah girls?” asked Lena.

“Yeah,” he replied, “Tany-ah, Len-ah.” He laughed at his own joke.

“Wank-ah,” Tanya replied, pointing at him.

Lena laughed more than she needed to. “Good one, Tan. Let’s go in and get away from this dick.”

They left Tyrone alone with his humiliation and pushed their way into the party. After the cold night air, they nearly drowned in the shockwave of heat, sweat and noise. It took a few seconds to acclimatise. There was a typical cross-section of teenagers wedged into the tiny flat. You had your dancers, your fighters and your snoggers. Tanya and Lena didn’t fit into any of these categories tonight. They had come here for one reason and that was to find drink. They sharked their way through the crowd, looking for bottles of booze that had been left unattended. After five minutes all they had to show for their efforts was some sour red wine. They found a space in the kitchen where they parked their bums on the worktop. They took it in turns to take swigs of the thick red liquid.

Lena winced with every mouthful. “I can’t stand wine, we need to get hold of something better than this.”

“It’s fine,” said Tanya. “At least we’ve got something.”

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