Slur: The Riverhill Trilogy: Book 1 (2 page)

Julie’s
thoughts turned to Rita, and she wondered whether the police had taken her in
for questioning too, as she must have been the ‘one other’ to whom the inspector
had referred. She thought about the surly inspector, convinced that he was
going to give her one hell of a grilling once they got inside the station. “
But
I can’t have killed Amanda
,” she reasoned to herself. “
She was starting
to come round a bit when we left her
.”

As she
pictured her friend’s face the last time she had seen her, Julie fought once
again to contain her tears, as she went through the events of last night in her
mind.

Friday 20
^th
June 1986

It was Friday night, the big night out of the week. Julie
was sitting at her dressing table putting the finishing touches to her hair and
make-up. When she was satisfied that she had achieved the desired result, she
pouted her lips and kissed her reflection in the mirror, saying, ‘you’re gonna
knock ’em dead tonight – you sexy beast.’ She was disturbed by the sound of a, ‘tut
tut’ coming from the doorway of her room. It was her mother, Betty.

‘Julie Quinley, I don’t
know. You get dafter by the minute. When you’ve finished dolling yourself up,
Rita’s downstairs waiting for you.’

Julie took
no offence at Betty’s comments as she was accustomed to their friendly banter. She
turned in her chair, gave her mother a beaming smile, then dashed across the
room and planted a kiss on her cheek, saying, ‘Here I go, don’t wait up!’

She headed downstairs to
find Rita in the hallway. As they greeted each other, Betty passed them on her
way to the living room. Julie stepped away from Rita, allowing her mother to
pass. As she did so, she noticed what Rita was wearing. “
My God, she’s really
gone to town this time!
” she thought, observing Rita’s white lycra mini
skirt, low cut red top and towering, white stiletto heels.

‘You look nice Rita,’ she
commented politely.

‘Oh thanks,’ Rita replied,
preening herself.

Julie then heard the sound
of voices coming from the living room. She put her fingers to her lips,
motioning Rita to keep quiet as she led her towards the living room door while
they listened in on Bill and Betty’s conversation.

‘She’s at it again, is she?’
Bill asked.

‘Aye, she’s only kissing the
bleedin’ mirror now. I swear she gets more puddled by the minute that girl,’
replied Betty, in an amused tone. 

Julie looked at Rita and
managed to stifle a giggle as she heard her father grumble, ‘I can’t understand
it me, young women out till all hours of the night up to God knows what, and
with all these dubious characters hanging about.’

‘Yes, I know your feelings
Bill, you have mentioned it once or twice.’

‘Well, she’s twenty years of
age for God’s sake! She should be married with a family now, not stuck in some
nightclub getting drunk, with a load of riffraff!’

Julie held up her hand for
Rita to see as she formed the shape of a mouth opening and shutting, in
imitation of her father’s familiar complaining.

‘She’ll have plenty of time
for settling down when she’s had a bit of fun and built up a career for
herself,’ Betty replied. ‘A lot of women don’t even think about having children
until they are in their thirties these days. Anyway, she’s got her head screwed
on the right way. She won’t do anything daft.’

‘Huh,’ was Bill’s response,
followed by silence.

Julie and Rita backed away.
Julie then opened the front door and they stepped out into the street, shutting
the door as quietly as possible so that Julie’s parents would be unaware of
their eavesdropping. As soon as they were outside, they gave in to uncontrolled
laughter.

‘I bet your mam was a right
one in her day!’ giggled Rita.

‘She might have been, given
half a chance.’

Julie
thought about her mother and the tale she had told her many times about her
married life. Times had been hard for Betty when she got wed and their finances
were fully stretched after Julie’s birth. Therefore, they decided to postpone
extending their family until they could afford it.

When Julie
was in school, Betty found herself a job in a store in order to bring in some
extra income. After a few years of being stuck at home, Betty was a bit
apprehensive at first, but she soon settled in and made lots of new friends.
This in turn improved her social life and she began to relish her newfound
freedom. After that, there never seemed to be an appropriate time to have more
children.

However, as Betty reached
her thirties and sensed her biological clock ticking away, the desire grew to
extend her family before her time ran out. This resulted in the birth of Clare,
twelve years Julie’s junior, and now a likeable, sweet girl of eight.

Although Betty was immensely
proud of both her daughters, at times she regretted not doing more with her
life, and every time Julie thought about her mother’s lack of achievements, she
was determined not to make the same mistakes.

As Julie and Rita made their
way up the street, on the way to their friend Debby’s house, the familiar
clickety clack of high heels reverberated on the pavements.

Julie’s home was in a street
full of three bedroom semis in a Manchester suburb. Many of the houses looked
dreary and run down, a result of the poverty in the area. The home of Bill and
Betty Quinley, however, was one of the more presentable houses in the street.
The front garden was well tended and baskets of bright blooms hung at either
side of the front door.

Julie’s sister, Clare, and
her friends, who were playing further up the street, paused in their play as
Julie and Rita approached. For a group of eight year olds, the image of Julie
and Rita dressed to go out was a sight to behold, and they gazed in awe as the
two older girls walked by.

‘Bye our Julie,’ shouted Clare.

‘Bye sweetheart. I’ll see
you in the morning and don’t forget to be a good girl for Mam and be in at
eight o’clock.’

‘I won’t,’ said Clare, full
of respect for Julie who she saw as a role model.

Julie couldn’t help but
swell with pride as she sensed the idolising glances of the young girls, and
caught snippets of their conversation on passing.

‘Wow Clare, I wish I could
go out all dressed up like your Julie, wearing make-up and everything!’

‘Our Julie lets me wear her
make-up sometimes.’

Julie turned to Rita and
they smiled at each other on hearing these childish comments. They looked an oddly
matched pair: Julie, tall and elegant, and Rita, who was just a year older than
Julie, smaller, brasher and louder in every sense of the word. Julie, although
slim, was also curvaceous and well proportioned. Her features were sharp but
nonetheless attractive.

She usually opted for the
sexy but sophisticated look, and tonight she was wearing a shortish pale blue
skirt with a matching fitted jacket, which bore the popular shoulder pads of
the eighties. She wore the customary white stiletto heels and had a white
leather handbag to match. Her make-up was subtle and served to define her
striking features, and her blond hair was naturally wavy.

As they rounded the corner
at the top of the street, Rita opened up the conversation, by talking about her
day at work, which was at a food factory.

‘Me and Debby were talking
to Charlie at work today. He’s a card! He told us this joke…What’s white and
slides across the dance-floor?’ Then, pausing for effect, she added, ‘Come dancing,’
the double entendre being a reference to a popular TV dancing show around that
time. ‘Well, that was it! We couldn’t stop laughing after that. The slightest
thing set us off.’

They both laughed at this
and Julie replied, unwittingly. ‘Oh I wish I worked somewhere like that Rita.
It sounds as though you have a great time.’

‘Why not?’ Rita replied enthusiastically.
‘I can let you know when there’s any vacancies. You should get a good reference
from your place and you’ll soon learn the ropes. There’s not much to it really
and I can put in a good word for you so it won’t matter if you haven’t got any
experience.’

Julie was a bit taken aback
by this as deep down she saw herself as being a bit above factory work, but she
didn’t quite know how to put her thoughts into words without offending her
longstanding friend. So she replied with caution.

‘I’d love to, but I don’t
want to waste my qualifications.’

‘Come off it Julie, what’s a
couple of ‘O’ levels? Besides, if you decide you don’t like it at the factory,
you can always go back to office work. Anyway, you’re a bloody receptionist for
Christ’s sake. You’re hardly gonna qualify for the High Achievers Award, are
you? I mean to say, I earn more than you do.’

Julie resented Rita’s views
concerning her choice of career, but tried not to show it. Despite her
resentment, she appreciated Rita’s open and frank manner, which she had been
grateful for in the past, so she maintained a cautious approach.

‘It’s what it can lead to
that matters. I could do a course in computers or something.’

‘Like as if. You’re too busy
enjoying yourself to stick a college course. Besides, I could do a course in
computers, come to that.'

Julie didn’t wish this to
escalate into a full-blown argument but felt that she must assert herself, so
she replied, ‘You haven’t got the ‘O’ levels or the office experience.’ Then,
realising that she was now becoming a bit confrontational, she tried to lighten
the conversation by joking, ‘Anyway, the talents always a bonus.’

Rita, however, was not so
easy to pacify. ‘Come off it. All men who work in offices are bloody wimps! You
can’t beat a bloke with a good trade. That’s what my dad says and it’s true.’

‘What’s the use of a good
trade if there’s no work around for them?’

‘Oh that’s just temporary.
They’ll be all right now we’re getting over the recession. It’s all down to
that bleedin’ Maggie Thatcher anyway.’

‘Well while all your blokes
with a trade are still busy looking for work, there’s blokes being promoted at
our place.’

‘Yes blokes, exactly! Anyway,
Vinny’s a builder isn’t he and there’s nowt wrong with him?’

Knowing the mood that Rita
was in, Julie guessed at what was to follow, and she was reluctant to discuss
the subject of her boyfriend Vinny.

‘Yes, he’s all right, I
suppose.’

‘But?’ prompted Rita.

‘Well, I just wish he had a
bit more ambition, that’s all.’

‘You know your trouble
Julie? You don’t know when you’re lucky. Vinny’s gorgeous. Loads of girls fancy
him. I wouldn’t kick him out of bed myself! He’s got his own place, and he’s
good between the sheets, from what you’ve told me.’

Julie smiled, amused at her
friend’s audacity. ‘Well he does know which buttons to press and when to press
them, but there’s more to life than sex you know Rita.’

‘Oh yeah? Well when you find
it let me know, and I’ll have a double helping,’ Rita quipped.

As Julie laughed, she turned
to Rita and said. ‘Let’s stop being so bleedin’ serious! It’s Friday night for
Christ’s sake! We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves, not putting the world
to rights.’

Rita decided that she had
made her point anyway, so there was nothing to be gained in pursuing the matter.
‘Yeah, you’re right Jules. Come on, let’s go for it.’

They carried on walking for
a few moments before Julie asked Rita, ‘What time are we supposed to be at
Debby’s house?’

‘Dizzy Debby?  Oh I said it
would be about seven by the time we got there.’

‘Don’t be rotten. She can’t help
being a bit slow at times.’

‘It’s all right, she’s used
to being called Dizzy Debby. It’s her nickname at work. Anyway, there’s an offy
on the way so we can grab some booze and have a few before we go and meet your
friends. Eh, I tell you what Julie, we’d better make sure we give your friend
Amanda a good time, seeing as how it’s her birthday night out.’

‘Don’t worry, we will,’
replied Julie with a smile.

When they reached Debby’s
house, it was Debby who answered the door and led them straight up to her
bedroom. Her home was in complete contrast to the one that Julie had just left,
and the décor was shabby and dated. Julie recoiled as they passed the bathroom
and smelt the pungent aroma that emanated from it. She looked at Rita for her
reaction, but Rita didn’t respond. Julie wondered why; could it be that Rita was
used to it so it didn’t bother her. “
No,
” she chided herself. “
Rita’s
home might be a bit untidy, but it was certainly a lot cleaner than this one.
”

Julie could see that Debby
was excited about the forthcoming night out and was anxious to get started.
When they entered her bedroom she noticed Debby already had three half pint
glasses ready and the sound of Luther Vandross was blasting out of the stereo.

‘Don’t your parents mind you
having your music that loud?’ asked Julie.

‘No, they have the bloody tele
so loud, they can’t hear it anyway.’

‘Mine are as bad,’ said
Rita. ‘Ever since my dad came home from the pub with that dodgy VCR he’s been
like a bleedin’ kid with a new toy.’

The girls seated themselves
and began to pour the cans of lager. Julie pretended not to notice the greasy
marks that covered the glasses. She inwardly cringed on observing Debby’s
choice of clothing, accessories and make-up, but was too considerate to
comment. Everything about Debby was overstated, from her fluffy bright blond
hair to her fashion sense. All of her clothes were in vivid colours, uncoordinated
and clung perilously to her large breasts and rotund hips.