knocking.
‘Open the door, mate.’ Paul’s voice sounded friendly, light. Steven hesitated for a few moments then slipped back the chain and opened the door. His expression was a study in confusion. These were faces that were familiar to him, but not so familiar that they would usually call at his house. He shuffled uncomfortably from one foot to the other then gingerly opened the door.
Terry asked, ‘Mind if we come in and have a little 65
chat, son?’
Steven looked confused. ‘My mum says not to let strange people in when she’s out. I’m watching The Two Ronnies . I love the singing. I can make tea. We can be friends and watch the television and drink tea.’
‘ And it’s goodbye from me and goodbye from him ,’ a voice announced from the television as Steven was pinned down on the floor.
Slow at first, the rain fell steadily thicker and faster, till huge drops pelted down on top of Lucy Potts’s head as she made her way into Audrey Street from the school where she did judo class on a Friday evening. It had been a great night, and the music session afterwards had given her the chance to listen to some of her favourite pop songs. She had been dancing little steps with the other girls and loved
‘December ’63’. ‘ Oh, what a night ’ kept ringing in her head.
Lucy had the same unruly head of wavy hair as her mum, but that was where the similarities ended. Lucy was determined to get on in life. A miserable marriage to a waster and no money to call her own weren’t for her. She worked hard at school, and afterwards went to any and every club going – ballet, tap, judo, swimming – anything that got her out of that squalid flat so she didn’t have to look at her mother, stretched out on the sofa like a zombie, 66
watching the television. How she hated that Ken Dodd and his Diddymen! Mum would count every long hour until Michael came home, and for what?
Another blazing row.
As the rain fell harder Lucy began to quicken her pace but soon her clothes and bag with all her kit were soaked and felt heavy next to her skin. She was still quite sweaty from class and now felt damp down to her bones. She wished she had showered, but con -
scious of her developing body had decided against it.
Abruptly she did an about-turn, deciding to take the short-cut through the park behind City Farm. Her mum always told her she was never to go through the park at night, but it was still light and it would shorten her journey considerably. As she sang the catchy song out loud, she made her decision.
Sod it! she thought. She just had to get through the wooded area and on to Edith Street which bisected Haggerston Park and City Farm. Usually there would be gangs of boys on bikes hanging around, but the rain had driven them into the corridors and landings of the local flats and Lucy was grateful for that as she was busting for a pee.
The rain was now falling in sheets as thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. Lucy ducked under a beech tree, hoping for some shelter and somewhere to go to the loo. She looked about her and, unable to see anyone, pulled down her tracksuit bottoms and pants and squatted, leaning against the 67
trunk of the tree. The relief made her forget momentarily how uncomfortably wet she was. With rain dripping on her head from the tree branches above, she lost her footing and pee splattered on her plimsolls.
Fuck! she thought as she straightened up. Then the sound of a branch snapping behind her made her start, and with her trackie bottoms just at knee-height she couldn’t turn in time to see what had caused the noise. Before she knew what had happened, she had been pushed over and pinned to the ground on her stomach. Momentarily winded, she struggled for breath. The next moment she felt a hot, stale mouth and prickly beard against the side of her head and started struggling to get away. His breath was so disgusting she felt nausea welling up in her stomach.
A hand roughly probed around her