Free The Last Days of Disco by David F. Ross Page B

small, square bedroom, Tony Hadley gazed down impassively from the wall at the familiar scene.
    â€˜Hey you. Language. Audrey, huv you been at her stuff again?’ Anne had her hands on her hips like a contemporary
Maw Broon.
    â€˜Niver touched it,’ bubbled Audrey, feeling her scalp and repeatedly investigating her hand for incriminating evidence of her own blood.
    â€˜
Liar
!’ Lizzie screeched. She made a grab for Audrey again, but Anne had positioned herself between the girls.
    â€˜You, awa’ intae the livin’ room.’ Audrey didn’t need a second invitation. Anne turned to Lizzie, pushing the door closed behind her. ‘Whit’s up wi’ ye? It’s yer party tonight an’ ye look bloody miserable. Everybody’s been on flamin’ eggshells wi’ ye aw week. Whit’s goin’ on?’
    â€˜It’s nothin’ a’right. Just leave it, Mam,’ said Lizzie.
    Anne smiled.
    â€˜Whit?’ asked Lizzie.
    â€˜Ah just like it when ye call me
Mam
.’ It hadn’t always been like this, but after a difficult couple of years, this last twelve months hadseen them become more familiar with each other.
    â€˜Ye’ve earnt
that
, ah suppose.’ Lizzie smiled briefly, then turned away to conceal it. She was still angry with Audrey.
    â€˜Thanks … ah think,’ said Anne.
    â€˜Well, it’s no like ye’ve had tae compete wi’ the auld yin,’ said Lizzie.
    Frank’s previous wife, Isa, had up and left. If she had died, Anne might have had some memory to contend with. As it was, while Lizzie and her siblings hadn’t exactly made life easy for her at the beginning, it was obvious their father couldn’t look after them all by himself. As Lizzie saw it, without Anne, they’d have been on the phone to Esther Rantzen every week.
    For her part, Anne had known taking on a man like Frank – set in his ways and with four headstrong kids – wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. She smiled at Lizzie. ‘It would’ve been a lot harder if you … well, ye ken whit ah mean.’
    â€˜Just keep him oot the bookies an’ we’ll aw be happy,’ said Lizzie.
    â€˜He’s just goin’ through a bad patch. He’s got too much time on his hands, an’ nothin’ tae dae. Ken, he says tae me the other night, aw serious tae … “Whit age dae ye have to be tae get oan a Youth Opportunities Scheme?” Ye shouldnae laugh, but Christ, he’s nearly forty!’
    â€˜Naw, yer right, Mam … ye
shouldnae
laugh. He’s fritterin’ away and jist dyin’ ae apathy. Three million folk … Jesus, whit a waste of life. If only they aw realised that ye could start a revolution wi’ they numbers. But then, the three-thirty at Cheltenham always gets in the way an’ diverts their attention.’ Lizzie looked she was going to cry. Anne moved closer and touched Lizzie’s arm. ‘Ah’m fine,’ said Lizzie.
    â€˜Listen, Lizzie, there was somethin’ ah wanted tae tell …’
    â€˜
Shit
!’ Lizzie interrupted.
    â€˜Whit …? Whit’ve ye done?’
    â€˜Ach, ah’ve just broken a bloody nail. Been ages paintin’ them anaw. Shit!’ Lizzie was annoyed again.
    â€˜Ye sure you’re a’right? Time ae the month?’ enquired Anne.
    â€˜Aye, but it’s no that. It’s just gettin’ a bit claustrophobic in here… sharin’ a room wi’
her
an’ Linda,’ sighed Lizzie.
    Anne gulped. ‘Are ye worried it’s no’ gonnae go well tonight? You’ve got loadsa folk comin’. This’ll just be nerves, eh?’ Anne had her arm around Lizzie.
    â€˜Aye, probably right. Ah’ll snap oot of it once ah’ve hud a wee voddy,’ said Lizzie.
    â€˜Yer first legal drink, eh! Ye excited?’
    There was a pause after Anne said this, and then both women laughed