The Look of Love (8 page)

Scott hurried
after her and began to walk alongside her. “Why not? We were doing
alright until Victoria interfered. You would think she was jealous
by the way she kept trying to split us up.”

“It’s nothing
to do with her!” Chrissy said in annoyance. She began to hurry down
King Street towards Cross Street.

Scott kept up
with her. He looked across at her as they walked along. He looked
at her face, and at the way it was framed by her long, jet-black
hair. Even with an angry expression she was still very beautiful.
And she had a beautiful body too. He looked at her stomach and
navel, and at the way her chest bounced as she walked briskly
along. He couldn’t lose her, not now.

“Then why won’t
it work?” he said.

“Just
because!”

“You do like
me, I know you do!” Scott insisted. “If you didn’t you’d just come
straight out and say so! You’re damn quick with the put downs, but
not once tonight have you told me to my face to get lost. So you
must be interested!”

“Don’t push
your luck!” Chrissy warned him.

“Why don’t you
want to give it a try? What’s wrong with me?”

“Just leave
it!”

“So you’re
telling me Max was right after all? My wallet isn’t big enough for
you, is that it? But maybe you just can’t say it to my face!”

“Alright! So
I’m selfish!” Chrissy exclaimed emotionally. “So what if I want
something better than a council house, six kids and a husband
that’s in the pub all night? Why shouldn’t I be selfish? Why should
I live out my life as Mrs Average-and-ever-so-fucking-normal just
because everybody else wants me to?”

“It doesn’t
have to be like that!” Scott argued. “And what’s wrong with getting
married and having kids? Don’t you want to have kids?”

Chrissy shouted
him down. “I want something better! I want a bit of money behind
me! I want a big house by a beach with lots of sunshine! And I want
to live my life instead of having to work through it!”

They reached
Cross Street, and Chrissy ran across without waiting for Scott. She
kept running when she reached the other side. Scott chased after
her, catching up with her again outside Georgio Armani’s, and
pulling her to a stop. To his surprise, she looked tearful.

Scott could see
that Chrissy was far more emotional than he realised. He tried to
calm her down. “Everybody has a dream like that. But it’s just a
dream. You have to live in reality, Chrissy. Dreams cost money, and
not many people make enough of it in their lives to make their
dreams come true.”

His remarks
just made Chrissy more determined. “It’s not a dream!” she
insisted, rubbing at her eyes. “I’m going to make it happen! And if
I can’t get it on my own, then I’ll fucking marry it! And nobody
has the right to tell me I can’t do it!”

Scott was
appalled. “You can’t base a relationship on money!”

“Oh yes I
bloody can!” Chrissy laughed humourlessly. “Men do it all the time!
They get rich, ditch the old wife, and marry a blonde bimbo with no
brains and big tits! So why should I lose out just because I’m a
brunette with brains? I look just as good, and I can do far better
things with the money than they do!”

“But what about
love?”

“Why is it that
men only ever talk about love when they want you to give up
everything you want to do and do what they want to do? Love! Ha!
The only things you men love are beer, football and sex! And if
you’re lucky, you can get all that at the pub while the wife’s at
home looking after the kids!” Chrissy waved her hands dismissively.
“No way is that for me! My mum is as smart as hell, but she has no
life! I am not going the same way!”

Chrissy turned
and walked away and Scott followed alongside her again. He tried a
different approach as they walked along more slowly now.

“Alright, you
want something more out of life. I can understand that. But there
has to be a better way than marrying someone for their money. Why
don’t you become a model? You said yourself that you look just as
good. And I think you’re miles more beautiful than some of the ones
I’ve seen on telly.”

Chrissy shook
her head. “I’ve tried that! I freeze up in front of the camera.
Anyway, I’m not a stick insect, so the only work I could get was
with my tits hanging out, and I wasn’t getting into any of
that!”

“So what are
you doing at University?”

“Computer
Graphics. If I can’t work in front of the camera, I’ll work behind
it.”

“Well, that’s
good isn’t it?”

Chrissy didn’t
answer his question. Instead she asked one of her own. “How much do
you earn, Scott?” The question came out of the blue, and her words
were harsh and abrupt.

Scott shrugged.
“With overtime and the shift pay, about eighteen to twenty thousand
a year. It’s good money, but it’s hard work.”

“You work in
the same factory as your brother, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“So what do you
want in life?”

“You!” Scott
said instantly.

“Don’t piss me
about! You know what I meant!” Chrissy told him. She stopped
walking and turned to face him. “Where are you going, Scott? Do you
have a dream? Or are you going to be working in that factory until
you drop?”

“I guess I
hadn’t thought about it,” Scott replied sadly. He knew what was
coming and he was resigned to the inevitable.

“No, I guess
you hadn’t,” Chrissy replied sternly. “And that’s why it won’t
work. Because while your happy woman is looking after the kids,
doing the dusting and going out to work, you’ll be in bed. And
while she’s at home, feeding and putting the kids to bed and doing
the rest of the housework, you’ll be at work on shifts. By the time
you both reach forty, she’ll be at the bingo and addicted to soaps,
while you’ll be just another over-weight beer belly at the bar. Not
very close to my dream, is it? In fact it’s not a very good
scenario for any kind of relationship, is it, Scott? But you
haven’t bothered to think that far ahead, have you? But I have.

“Yes, you’re
right. I do like you, Scott. You’re tall, you look pretty fit, and
you can handle yourself, a bit too much for my liking, but I’ll put
that down to enthusiasm. You’re good looking too, and you have the
sweetest eyes. And you’re pretty charming when you want to be. Jo
was right; you are the best man to come my way in ages. She knows
my type, the devious cow! And that’s probably why she invited you
tonight. She probably has visions of double weddings with her best
friend and her future hubby’s brother. But it’s not going to
happen, because even though I like you, you’re everything I’m
trying to avoid. You’re a trap, Scott, nicely presented but still a
trap. And if I let you, you’ll snare me and squeeze the life out of
me. Call me selfish, call me mercenary, call me a bitch, even. But
I am
not
going to let that happen.

“Earlier you
said I hadn’t told you to get lost straight out. Well, I wanted to,
but after what you said to me I couldn’t. And thinking about it
even made me cry. But that’s all part of the trap. That’s why it’s
so deadly. I know I might regret this later, and I’ll probably cry
buckets, but now I am going to tell you. And I mean it. Get lost,
Scott.”

Chrissy turned
and walked away again, and this time Scott didn’t follow her. He
just stood in the middle of King Street watching her walk away.

42nd Street was
a club like any other in Manchester. It was just off Deansgate, and
the entrance led down into the club which was in the basement of an
old textile warehouse. Most of the old warehouses in Manchester had
long been converted into offices, and those that hadn’t were now
being converted into hotels or apartment blocks.

It cost a
fortune to get in, and Louise had to pay for Victoria. Inside, the
place was packed and the music was very loud. As soon as they were
in, Jo headed for the bar while Victoria headed for the dance
floor. At first, Louise went with her, but as soon as she saw
Victoria dance; she quickly retreated to join Jo at the bar.

Louise quickly
realised what Angela had meant about Victoria ‘strutting her stuff’
on the dance floor. When judges talked about dressing and behaving
provocatively, they were talking about Victoria. There was no
denying that Victoria did what she did on purpose. She would
deliberately pick out groups of boys and dance among them. She
would dance very suggestively, moving from one boy to the other,
letting them dance close to her. The boys would cheer her every
move, whistling in appreciation. Every so often she would move
against one of them and let him touch and even grope her. Then she
would get a few drinks out of him, and just when he thought he was
in, she would move back to one of the other boys, or even head for
another group entirely.

Jo handed
Louise a drink. Louise took a gulp of it without looking as she
stared at Victoria in fascination. It was vodka and orange, and it
made her gasp.

“I thought I
said orange juice,” she said hoarsely to Jo.

“It is orange
juice!”

“But there’s
something in it!”

“So? Live a
little!” Jo indicated Victoria. “She’s a one, isn’t she?”

“She’s going to
get into trouble.”

“That’s half
the fun! Come on!”

Jo dragged
Louise onto the dance floor. Jo was a good dancer, and Louise
prided herself in the fact that she was good too, but in comparison
to Victoria, they were both amateurs.

It wasn’t long
before they caught the attention of some boys on the dance floor.
Jo responded, smiling and laughing, but Louise retreated back to
the bar. She could have had a good time, if it wasn’t for two
things: She wasn’t interested in the boys who approached her, and
the fact that she was always keeping one eye on Victoria. Louise
hadn’t thought it possible, but her behaviour was getting
worse.

Victoria wasn’t
just picking on groups of boys on their own any more. Now she was
deliberately dancing near a girl with her boyfriend, distracting
him until the girl would get angry and the arguments would start.
Victoria would then move quickly away, leaving a trail of angry
girls and ex-boyfriends with slapped faces behind her.

Louise got more
and more worried as the shouts and arguments started on the dance
floor. But Victoria didn’t seem to care. Finally, Louise could
stand it no longer and she went to Victoria and grabbed her arm,
pulling her towards the bar.

Victoria was
having none of it. She resisted, and a tug-of-war with her arm
developed.

“What are you
doing? Leave me alone!” She spoke with a slur, she was hot and
sweaty, and her breath stank of alcohol.

“You’ve had too
much to drink! You have to stop this!” Louise insisted, pulling
harder. “Come back to the bar with me!”

“No! I wanna
dance!” she hissed back through clenched teeth. “I want the boys to
see what they can’t have! Get off me!” She broke free and went back
to the dance floor.

“But what
you’re doing is dangerous!” Louise called after her. It was no use.
Victoria was already dancing close to another girl and her
boyfriend.

Louise went to
find Jo. But Jo was in the arms of another boy, they were kissing
passionately, and the boy had his hand up Jo’s short dress.

Louise backed
away. She didn’t know what to do. Victoria’s behaviour was bound to
cause a backlash, and it wouldn’t be long in coming. She returned
to the dance floor, but Victoria was now no where to be seen. In
desperation, Louise went back to Jo and pulled her away from the
boy.

Jo was
surprised by the intrusion, she was also heavily drunk.
“Wha–What’s-a-matter?”

“I can’t find
Victoria!” Louise had to shout over the noise of the music. “Have
you seen her?” She knew as soon as she spoke that it was a daft
question, but she was worried sick.

Jo shook her
head in annoyance. “No, I haven’t bloody seen her! She’s probably
having a piss!”

“I hadn’t
thought of that! I’ll go and check!”

“Yeah! You do
that!”

As Louise
hurried away, Jo muttered, “Daft cow…” Then she turned back to the
boy she was with and said with a smile, “Now, where were we?”

As Louise
approached the ladies toilets, she knew she was heading in the
right direction. There were several girls gathered around the door,
and Louise could hear the shouts from inside. She pushed through
the girls, seeing their faces filled with a mixture of delight and
anger. Inside the toilets there was a circle of girls all shouting
and screaming. Louise joined the circle and looked down in
horror.

There were
three girls pinning a fourth girl to the floor. Two of them seemed
to be sitting on top of their victim, holding her wrists and
punching her repeatedly in the stomach. The third girl was kneeling
across her chest, banging her head up and down on the floor. All
Louise could see of their victim was her legs sticking out, kicking
and waving around. The girl had bare feet, and even though she
couldn’t see her face, Louise knew instantly that it was
Victoria.

As she watched,
mesmerised by the whole seen, one of the other girls in the circle
suddenly darted forward, grabbed Victoria’s long hair, and began to
tug on it.

Louise looked
around in panic. There were too many girls, what could she do? And
then she saw a carbon dioxide fire extinguisher hanging on the
wall. She grabbed it, pulled out the pin and fired it at the
girls.

The result was
instantaneous.

As soon as the
ice cold carbon dioxide hit all that hot, sweaty, and bare skin,
there were screams of terror and a stampede for the exit. Two girls
were bowled over, and one of them was trampled in the rush.

Only one of the
three girls attacking Victoria was reluctant to leave, but a blast
from the extinguisher right up her skirt sent her howling after the
rest. The toilets were suddenly empty.