Trilogy Collection. Julie Shaw

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       Chapter 12

      June was getting irritated. It had all seemed like such fun at first, raking in all the lovely money. It had been so good to have it – to feel it and smell it – that she hadn’t minded Jock banging on about them not arousing suspicion, hadn’t minded not being able to spend most of it. She wasn’t stupid – she knew just how fast curtains could start twitching if they started doing up their houses and going out in fancy clothes, so, initially, at least, she’d been happy to play it safe, and restrict herself to bags of food and extra coal.

      But being so careful had gone on long enough now, surely? It had been almost a month now and she was sick of having money but not being allowed to spend it. Yes, she’d sent a few fivers off to Vinnie – though, given the strike, fuck knew where they’d ended up – and she’d also been able to sneak the odd miniskirt but, to her mind, Jock and the others were being way too cautious. Most of the cheques had been cashed now and nothing bad had happened, so wasn’t it about time they all started letting their hair down? She had a wish list and she was itching to start ticking things off it, principal among them being a much longed-for holiday in Blackpool.

      ‘Oh I don’t know, June,’ Maureen said, when she popped round to run the idea by her. ‘We do something like that and the rest of ’em’ll go fucking apeshit. And you know what the nosey bastards round here are like. Someone’ll grass. Just you watch.’

      ‘But what’s to bleeding grass about, Mo?’ June persisted. ‘No one knows where it’s come from, do they? And how can anyone grass about us taking a bleeding holiday?’

      Maureen shook her head. ‘I don’t know, June. We really don’t want to blow this. What does Jock say?’

      ‘Jock?’ June said. ‘Nothing! He doesn’t know anything, does he? You know what he’s like. Which is why I thought we should just go ahead and do it. Once it’s done and paid for he won’t be able to bring himself not to go. Be like burning tenners. No, we just have to get on and book it.’

      Maureen laughed. ‘Tell you what then, I’ll agree to it, but we can’t all go together – we’ll need to do it in turns. How about me and Steve go this weekend –’

      ‘Why should you go this weekend?’

      ‘Because that’s the deal, June. People’ll take much more notice if you and Jock go.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Because you’ve been so flashy! And you know what Jock’s said – you’ve got to be a bit more savvy and a lot less all about with it. Which means it’ll be much more sensible – and much less likely to annoy your husband – if me and Steve go first.’

      June scowled. Maureen was right, of course, which really annoyed her. ‘Anyway,’ her sister-in-law rattled on, ‘I’ve thought what’s best to do. If anyone asks you can tell them we’ve gone to me mam’s, and you and our Jock can go next week. Yes, that’ll work. I can say you’ve gone to visit our Vinnie, can’t I? And our Titch can stop with us while you’re away.’

      June thought for a minute, still a bit narked that Maureen was going to get to go before them, despite knowing it was probably the right thing to do. It had been her idea after all. And it had been her idea to sell the remaining cheques around Buttershaw – the women there would snatch their hands off for a cigarette butt, let alone club cheques at a couple of quid a go. They’d keep their traps shut as well, as long as June went along personally. No one in the area – unless they were really stupid – would want to get on the wrong side of either Jock or June’s families.

      So, really, June thought irritably, it was her right to go first, and having to let Maureen and Steve do it annoyed her. She’d already planned it in her mind – her and Jock relaxing with knickerbocker glorys, having their photos taken wearing ‘Kiss Me Quick’ hats, strolling along the prom, followed by a piss-up at one of those posh pubs by the central pier.

      ‘Alright then,’ she relented, feeling the excitement dampen the irritation, ‘you go first, but not a word to Jock or anyone. Especially our Titch. If she finds out we’re off on hols without her, she’ll go bleeding mental, the maungy little mare.’

      ‘So why don’t you take her?’

      ‘Take her with us? You have got to be joking! I spend more than enough time looking at that miserable face of hers as it is.’

      ‘Well, she is a teenager, Ju,’ Maureen pointed out.

      ‘Yeah, but our Vinnie was never like this. СКАЧАТЬ