‘He must have been lonely,’ Jenny said.
‘We all are, when we’re on our own.’
‘What makes him so rough?’
‘Who knows? I’m rough, as well. I suppose it’s because we’re bikers. Everybody’s against us. We’re young, we’re free, and we’re mobile. People hate us for that.’
It all sounded so romantic, though everybody’s romantic life wounded somebody. But she tried to sound positive: ‘I suppose it is a good time for you.’
‘When we’re all out together, riding over the dales, nobody can touch us.’ He reached for her hand. ‘Are you married?’
‘I was.’
‘How did you kill him? Poison, a knife, or a gun? I wrote a song like that once.’
‘That’s what I like to hear.’ Percy woke up. ‘Lovely no-holds-barred peals of feminine laughter!’
‘Perhaps I’d better take you up to bed, Father. We’ve had a long day, and tomorrow might be even longer. You must be all in.’
‘I like it down here.’ His eyes glinted. ‘I might miss summat if I’m asleep. There’ll be plenty of time for sleep when I’ve popped my clogs.’
‘He left me,’ she said.
‘A nice person like you? He must have been insane. You didn’t lose much, if he was that stupid.’
‘That’s one way of looking at it.’ She felt as exhilarated by such talk as he must feel when flying across the landscape. ‘I got pregnant, and wanted to have the baby, but he didn’t. He said we couldn’t afford it, and that he wasn’t ready for such a responsibility, whatever that meant. I couldn’t figure him out. So I thought: if he isn’t ready, neither am I. It would be a disaster to have a child under those conditions. I got rid of it, and now I see how wrong I was. He’d still have left me, but I’d have managed. Women do. And then he went off with one of my best friends.’ She wanted to be free with him, yet saying such things might put him off. ‘It’s because I like you’ — which was as far as she could go.
He had had plenty of girls, but not a woman like her. ‘I love you, as well. It’s good to trade stories.’
‘Have you written a song about it?’ She laughed, touching his face, laid her palm there, winning the dare with herself to do it.
He kissed her. ‘I would have looked after that baby. I know I would. I hope the snow keeps us here for ever.’
Kiss my tears and taste the salt. And I’m not even drunk. But she felt sick from the champagne, a vacuum forming in her stomach. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘It does, but you might as well forget it. Worry is no good for anybody.’
‘What made you so wise?’
‘You should ask my old man that. He’d laugh till he died. So maybe you should. It could be the snow.’
‘I’ve been looking at you all evening,’ Enid said, ‘whenever I came in and out. You didn’t see me, though. I like you. You’re more interesting than anybody else here.’
Aaron wondered how she had come to such an amazing conclusion.
‘I like older men.’ She wanted to make good her previous mistake. Her grey-green eyes shone. ‘Older men have been through a lot more. Young ’uns make me sick. Older men have learned how to treat you better.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Well, I don’t, do I? But I’m sure it’s true.’ She looked at his hands. ‘Your nails are clean.’
‘Why shouldn’t they be?’ He was never allowed to come to the table unless they were, and such early inculcations didn’t die.
‘I hate dirty nails. That’s the first thing I look at in a man. That pig’s nails was black, every one of ’em. Didn’t you notice?’
Thank God he was asleep. He wanted to keep trouble away as long as possible, dreading that they would wake up and fight among themselves. ‘He’s probably been working on his motorbike. Everyone’s nails are black at some time.’ Her nails were clean, but eaten to the quick, ‘I always look to see if a person bites their nails.’
She drew them back, reddening in a way he found charming, ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I can’t stop. I try, though, honest I do.’
He wondered why she was working in a place like this. ‘How long have you been here?’
‘About three months.’
‘Do you like it?’
‘I live in the next village. I don’t want to milk cows or chase sheep all my life. It pays my way here, but it’s not a career, and that’s a fact. I’ve been to secretarial college, and I can work computers. I’ve applied for fifty jobs in the last few months, in Sheffield, Nottingham and Derby — all over the place. Sometimes I get as far as the interview, but then I don’t hear from them again, I don’t know why.’
Nor did he. When not battling to preserve her self-esteem she looked sad and serious, her faraway expression of not entirely belonging to this or any other world making him feel sorry for all young people who had to get used to the brickbats of life. ‘I run a second-hand book business with my sister. It’s the usual thing of buying cheap and selling as dear as I think we can get away with. We put catalogues out a few times a year, and by the end we’ve made enough to justify our efforts.’
‘It sounds nice work. Especially if you like it.’
He held her hand, his heart at a faster rate when she looked at him as if not wanting him ever to let go. ‘It’s hectic, sometimes. We get a lot of orders in and they all have to be packed and posted. In fact we’ve often thought of getting somebody to give us a hand.’
‘Come on, Father, it’s time,’ Alfred said, ‘the sort that waits for no man. If we don’t get into our beds soon they’ll run away and leave us for them as needs ’em.’
Percy stood up, and took his son’s arm. ‘Aye, we don’t want that to happen. I must get my beauty sleep for when we get to Bournemouth. There’ll be a lot to see, won’t there?’
The older he got, the more pity he felt for his father. ‘There’ll be all sorts of nice things, I promise you.’ Alfred waved good night, but Percy wouldn’t leave till he had shaken a few hands.
‘Have you got a room here?’ Lance asked.
‘Of course she has.’ Sweat fell from Parsons’ nose as if he had just run ten miles. ‘Nothing but the best for such as her — the best that my money can buy.’
‘Let’s go, then,’ Lance said, ‘I love you, you can tell that, can’t you? You’re nicer than anybody else here, because I don’t know anything about you.’
She laughed at his ambiguous compliments. ‘I’m ready when you are.’
‘She’s nothing but a bloody tart,’ Parsons called tearfully.
Unsteady on his feet, he sprawled backwards at the first blow.
‘Oh good,’ Wayne yawned, ‘the fighting’s started.’
Jenny was sodden with pity and regret at Parsons having helped himself to the Union money, not at all encouraged by her. He had been in a funny mood the whole trip, unlike his usual self (whatever that was, she now thought), as if he had made up his mind to spend the money beforehand but hoped she would save him from it, and show that she cared. She hadn’t guessed his weakness till too late, and if she had it would have been impossible to stop him. She pulled at Lance’s arm: ‘Please, leave him alone.’
‘He’d better keep his trap shut, then,’ Lance said, ‘or my boot’ll fill it.’
‘Pack it in.’ Aaron lifted Parsons, though without much sympathy, into a chair, blood falling onto his sleeve.