Free Playing Around by Gilda O'Neill Page A

few doors away.
    She had stood there, seething, while the driver – who was thinking that this arrogant mare had better come up with a decent tip – stuffed the back of his cab with all her glossy carrier bags. But despite having spent the entire morning venting her anger on the world, and on ‘Dusty’ in particular, by seeing just how much of David’s money she could manage to get rid of before lunchtime, Sonia was still in a bad mood. A very bad mood indeed.
    ‘Let’s have a look, then.’ Jackie emptied the bags on to her bed and held up a navy chiffon, A-line, sleeveless shift, covered with tiny white dots. ‘See, it didn’t matter we couldn’t afford West End prices,’ she said airily. ‘This is smashing. Romford market’s always got the latest styles. And you don’t get taken on like a mug.’
    ‘I think it’s smashing too.’ Angie held it against her and looked into the full-length mirror on Jackie’s dressing unit. The dress finished a clear four inches above her knee. ‘And I think it was definitely worth blowing all that on the haircut.’
    ‘So do I, Ange. Now let’s see. With the navy one you’ve got there.’ She rubbed her hand thoughtfully over her chin. ‘The two I got. A few of my other bits and pieces you can borrow. Then there’s all the material we bought – I’ll show you how to make that up later. Yeah, I reckon you’ll be able to get by for a good couple of weeks. Till you’ve saved up enough to buy something else.’
    ‘I’ll have to get some shoes.’
    Jackie jerked her thumb over her shoulder towards the see-through plastic racks hanging on the back of her door. ‘There are more shoes in there, Ange, than there are in the Oxford Street Dolcis. Everything from black patent Mary Janes to a purple suede tap style – thank you, Mum’s catalogue – and I’m only half a size bigger than you.’ She picked up the lime-green dress she had bought earlier. ‘I might wear this tonight.’ Then she picked up the other one, which was almost the same, but with a pattern of bold psychedelic swirls. ‘Mind you, this is nice as well. What do you think?’
    This was novel; Jackie never asked Angie’s opinion about anything to do with fashion or appearance. ‘I …’ She hesitated.
    ‘Yeah?’
    Here goes, she thought. ‘I think the bright colours in the patterned one show off your hair really well, and the lime-green one would look really good with my eyes.’
    ‘Right. That’s what we’ll wear tonight.’ She tossed the dresses on to the bed. ‘Now, let’s have a good look at that material we got.’ Jackie studied the lengths of fake Pucci cloth bought from a remnants stall in Romford market. ‘We’ll have to use the pattern I had to make my maroon halter-neck. This’d look great in that style.’
    ‘When shall we do it?’
    ‘Tell you what, instead of us doing it, I’ll be nice to Mum and get her to run it up for us.’ She screwed up her nose. ‘It’ll be a bit of a nuisance. We’ll have to re-sew the hems. She won’t make anything shorter than mid-knee. But it doesn’t matter what our sewing’s like, we’ll only wear them once or twice.’
    Angie carefully folded the navy and lime-green dresses. ‘I’d better get home now, Jack. By the time I have a bath it’ll be almost time to go out. And you said you wouldn’t mind—’
    ‘—doing your make-up. Course I don’t. I’m just pleased you’re actually coming out with me for once.’ She raised her shoulders and grinned. ‘This is like playing dressing up.’ She gave Angie a big kiss on the forehead. ‘With a great big, real-life doll.’
    Angie grinned back.
    They were both still grinning as Jackie saw Angie to the street door.
    ‘Watcha, Squirt.’
    Angie spun round to see Martin, with just a bath towel wrapped around his waist and a smaller towel draped round his neck, appearing from the bathroom.
    ‘Hello, Martin.’
    ‘Look at you,’ he said appreciatively. ‘With your hair all pretty