Pat was in bed with Ivana and she was lying in his arms, her slim legs wrapped around him. She was so tiny and Pat liked that. He liked the feel of her; she was fragile in comparison to his roughness. She felt so minute and so soft, that holding her was almost like taking her. She made him feel good inside and made him want to protect her and he knew that she liked the feeling as much as he did.
But she was a brass and brasses were not meant to be loved by anyone. It was hypocritical, he knew, considering his mother's background. But he also knew she would be the first person warning him against letting his feelings get the better of him.
Ivana snuggled into his body once more and he held her tightly to him. She could feel his heart beating and smell his aftershave.
'Is that your real name?'
She laughed. 'Course not. No one is born with a name like that. It's a work name, an exotic name that makes me sound interesting. My actual name is Denise.'
He laughed then and she laughed with him.
'You are joking?'
She was still laughing, no shame at her own words, just honest humour.
'I'm not. My name is Denise Jones, a boring and unattractive name for a girl who wanted to be interesting and beautiful.' She was laughing at herself again, only this time it wasn't as convincing.
Patrick hugged her once more, tighter, and her little laugh made him feel sorry for her. She was a nice girl, a really nice girl. He sighed, she was addictive.
He got out of the bed and relit the joint they had left in the ashtray. The sweet aroma of the grass filled the room and he looked down on Ivana and saw her lying there with her hair all around her face and her milky white skin smooth and soft against the bed sheets.
'You all right?' Her voice was soft and Pat sat back on the bed and smiled down at her.
'Course I'm all right. How about you?' She didn't answer him, just smiled gently.
He knew she loved him. He knew she would hang around for years; he could marry, go to prison, anything and Ivana, as she liked to be called, would be there waiting for him. A constant in a world that was full of disappointments.
He felt sorry for her even as he wished he had met her as a civilian and not in a hostess club flashing her clout to whoever had the money. He knew that he would keep her on the side and he was ashamed that he wasn't man enough to take her as she was. But it was hard for a man when the woman they were with was well-known. Eventually, it would cause trouble. Eventually he would use it against her. That was the way the world worked. She was sensible enough to know that herself. He wouldn't have to explain himself to her, she would take whatever crumbs he threw her.
'I'd better get back to work, mate.'
He nodded then and she saw the face that haunted her dreams and had grabbed her from the first time she had laid eyes on it. He had hit her like a bolt of lightning and the feeling had not decreased as it should have, it seemed to grow bigger by the day.
He dressed himself quickly and, kissing her gently on the brow, he left her.
Ivana lay there in the hotel room that was depressing now, with its scratched dressing table and dirty carpet, and she wondered what would be the outcome of this strange relationship they had.
The one thing she did know was that, no matter what happened, she would be there for him. She was caught up in him and needed him more than she had ever needed anyone or anything before in her life. She also knew that, without a doubt, he would break her heart.
Lance saw his little sister getting out of a car and he walked out of the house to see who had brought her home. He was surprised to see a young man in a police uniform driving an old Ford.
'What the fuck is going on?'
Eileen wished she was dead but she knew she had to diffuse this situation before that luxury could be afforded to her.
'I got lost, Lance, and this man was kind enough to give me a lift home.'
Lance bent down and looked into the car, peering in the window at the man in the driver's seat.
'Where did you get lost then?'
'I went to a party in Essex and lost me mates. I saw a police car and flagged it down.'
The young man could feel her fear and it was communicating itself to him. This was a man who, he knew, instinctively, was definitely not someone to cross.
'Well, this ain't a fucking police car, or is it? Are the filth cars in Essex different to the ones everywhere else? Only I thought they were supposed to be instantly recognisable? Wasn't that the whole idea of them in the first place?'
'Excuse me, sir, but I was just finishing my shift and the young lady was obviously in a bind. I offered to drop her off rather than leave her alone at a train station.'
Lance saw the logic of what the boy was saying and, with one of his lightning changes of mood, he smiled. This was something that was so rare it was more worrying to Eileen than his usual miserable demeanour.
'Thanks. You're right, of course. She is only young.'
The young policeman could feel the terror coming off her in waves now and he was sorry he wasn't brave enough to stay around and see what the score was. He couldn't wait to get going in fact. And, starting up the engine, he waved quickly before driving off in case this man decided he was not going to be so nice about it all.
Eileen looked at Lance for a few moments and she wondered how someone who looked so much like Patrick could not be called good-looking. On Patrick the same features were blindingly good-looking, on Lance they made him look like a psychopath.
'I know you don't want to hear it, Eileen, but I worry about you. You're a baby and there are men in the world who would take advantage of your youth and your inexperience.'
For the first time ever, Eileen was grateful to him for his overbearing and protective attitude.
'Thanks, Lance. I know you're right and I know you're only trying to take care of me.'
He was surprised at her answer, she knew. Normally, she would be causing murders, accusing him of all sorts and making a drama out of his concern.
'Is Nanny Annie in?'
Lance nodded and they walked amiably back into the house together.
'Bloody hell, wonders will never cease,' Annie said in undisguised surprise as she saw them coming in together.
Eileen didn't bother to answer her. She walked through to the kitchen where her mother was making another one of her pots of tea.
'Fancy a cup, love?'
Eileen smiled and kissed her gently. 'I love you, Mum.'
Lil laughed then, a loud, knowing laugh. 'Who hurt you, darling?'
She pulled her daughter into her arms and hugged her tightly.
'Come on. Who was it and where do they live?'
'Oh, Mum…' Eileen was crying now; her mother's astute observation at what had befallen her just made it all the more poignant.
'Sssh. Stop it, darling. Don't cry. Remember you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find a prince.'
Eileen suddenly felt her mother's body tense up and she made a low groan.
'The baby is on its way. I was having a cup of tea before I go off.'
Eileen couldn't believe what she was hearing. 'You're really in labour?'
Lil laughed again, that deep-throated chuckle that was her trademark.
'I'm having a baby, Eileen. It's not that hard, love. It is going to come out no matter what. In fact, I think it is nearer than I thought. I can feel it bearing down.' Lil sat back in the chair once more and took a few deep breaths. 'Phone the doctor, love. He must be sick of this fucking house. But, first, pour me out another cuppa. Lots of sugar, darling, for energy.'
She bent double again and she knew the baby was well on its way now.
'Oh, Eileen, I forgot how much it fucking hurts, darling.' She was still laughing when the child arrived twenty minutes later.
Pat was with Mac and they walked into the Eagle together. After ordering a couple of drinks, they made their way over to the corner and Pat smiled down at the man sitting there with his pint of Guinness. Then, pulling up a chair, he sat down easily.