Array Girl A: Girl A: My Story

We all lived in roughly the same area, so some nights Daddy would take two, three, four of us home, all squeezed into his little car until we’d got to where he’d drop us off. He never tried anything and I never even thought he would. It just felt cool and grown-up to be going home drunk and in a car.

Mum and Dad, meanwhile, had no idea about the nights I spent upstairs at Tasty Bites. They just thought I was off around town with my mates. It was one of my secrets. The other girls felt the same. Sometimes I’d manage to sneak upstairs and into my room so Mum and Dad wouldn’t know I was drunk, and other times I’d try to con them into thinking I was sober, often with a takeaway bag swinging from my hand. If they realised what was happening because I’d swayed too much or slurred my words, they’d start shouting at me, saying, ‘Look at the state of you, you’re a disgrace.’

They didn’t ask where all the free food was coming from: I think they just thought I was saving up dinner money and things. A couple of times I was so drunk I was sick out of the window and Dad had to keep checking on me every hour. In the morning, he would say he was disgusted with me and ask: ‘Why do you get so drunk?’

The hungover me just kept as quiet as she could. Sometimes, I’d feel guilty about keeping Mum and Dad up, making them worry. But those feelings would quickly be squashed by my teenage bravado: what right did they have to interfere? Besides, I was having fun.

One night, Elouise and I were at Tasty Bites alone. As soon as Daddy had brought the vodka and gone back downstairs, she said, ‘Hey, I know how we can get drunk quicker.’

‘How?’ I asked, intrigued.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘you take your drink, stand on the mattress and then you do this…’

And with that, she smiled impishly, took a huge swig of vodka, and began jumping manically, her body twisting around and around in a circle as she did so.

‘See?’ she yelled triumphantly. ‘The vodka goes straight to your head!’ She looked so funny I couldn’t help laugh along with her, but once she’d come to a staggering halt I said, ‘But, Elouise, all that’s going to do is make you dizzy, and then you’ll be sick!’

‘Pah,’ she said, and took another giant swig, before going through the same performance again.

She looked so pleased with herself that I had to try it, though for me once was quite enough.

Elouise carried on a few more times before eventually collapsing, in a fit of giggles, on the bed. As it turned out, she certainly seemed to get drunk much quicker than me that particular night: towards the end of it, we’d drunk the whole bottle and she was lying flat out on the mattress on her tummy.

She was lying like that when I heard Daddy’s heavy footsteps on the stairs. ‘How are you both?’ he asked, as he appeared at the open doorway.

‘I’m fine,’ I beamed, ‘but Elouise’s drunk out of her head!’

‘Ah, she looks as though she needs a massage,’ he said. ‘Is that right, Elouise? Shall Daddy give you a massage?’

Elouise just grunted in reply. I didn’t exactly catch the word she used, but it sounded like a drunken, ‘Fine.’

A moment later and Daddy was kneeling next to her on the mattress, massaging her back, then her legs, and eventually her bum, kneading first one cheek, then the other, then both together, over her jeans. That’s when I really noticed.

‘What are you doing?’ I squealed.

‘I’m just giving her a massage,’ he said, beaming up at me. It seemed so weird, but as he carried on I went along with it. Elouise hardly seemed to notice – she was pretty much out of it.

It went on for a while, until Daddy rocked back onto his heels and the massage was over. He was laughing, and I found myself laughing too, even though I was still a bit embarrassed by what I’d just seen.

At that point Elouise, hazy from the vodka, sat herself up, and Daddy moved in from behind. I watched, half in shock, half mesmerised, as he lifted up her top to show off her bra. Hugely embarrassed, I yelled, ‘Pull your top down, Elouise!’

Daddy just said, ‘She’s fine, she’s fine.’

‘But she’s drunk out of her head,’ I retorted. ‘Leave her alone.’

He pulled away, still smiling, looking across at me and asking, like a naughty schoolboy: ‘Why are you being so serious?’

A few moments later he was heading back downstairs, chuckling to himself, and a short time after that I was half carrying Elouise downstairs so we could go home. That night we walked, or rather staggered, back to the estate.

I suppose you could say Tasty Bites, and Daddy, gave me a real capacity for drinking. While other kids my age were just about starting to drink cider at home with their mums and dads, I was knocking back shot after shot of vodka with my mates. It made me feel good; it made me feel loud.

Early in the new year, however, at the start of 2008, Daddy left Tasty Bites and with Milly no longer going out with Saj, our nights there gradually fizzled out. For us, the place just went back to being a plain old takeaway.

At school in Heywood, we used to have a ‘Top Five’, where you’d write down the top five boys you liked at school. As a kid, I always used to think about what it would be like to get married, settle down and have kids and all that.

My favourite was always Elliot, the boy I sat next to in English. He wasn’t exactly the sort of lad my mum and dad would have approved of, but he was nice anyway, so long as he wasn’t pretending to be a gangster, like some of the other lads actually were. He was stocky with dark hair. He got expelled eventually, for bringing in a knife to school so he could look hard.

Elliot was the first boy I kissed properly. It was April 2008. I was fifteen and drunk. We’d gone into the town centre that night, the usual gang, and Elliot was the one I was walking next to. Hayley had told him I liked him, and at some point, while the others headed on towards the Three Terriers, I snuck off with him behind another pub, The Heywood.

He wasn’t a good kisser, to be honest, but it went on for about five minutes. It really was my first kiss, and I didn’t know what to do. I was so embarrassed, but dead happy too, because I’d finally done it.

Elliot was the person I lost my virginity to, as well. By then, most girls of my age in Heywood had lost their virginity, so I was probably something of a late developer. It happened about a week later, not behind a pub as some of the other girls had done but outside, in a field. I’d like to say I could see stars, not all of them in the sky, but it wasn’t like that. Actually, it was horrible, because I felt sick with nerves and it really hurt. But, afterwards I felt happy, almost proud. I felt like I’d joined a club I’d not known was there. As the girls gathered around me and quizzed me on what it had been like, that yearning I felt to belong was soothed once again. I was really one of them now.

I was particularly stoked because Elliot was number one on my ‘Top Five’ list. The girls were amazed: ‘We can’t believe it,’ they screeched, as my cheeks tingled with joy. ‘You’re so lucky!’

Elliot and I did it once more after that. It was still rubbish, but it didn’t hurt as much. I fell out with him soon after, and that was that.

Looking back, I can’t believe there was ever a time I was so laid-back about having sex. But, on the other hand, I’m glad I’ve had that experience. Sex should be a natural thing that people enjoy together. At least I’ve experienced the rush it can bring, because, these days, I don’t know if I’ll ever feel that same thrill again.

My antics fuelled yet more arguments at home. Hayley’s exploits with her various boyfriends gave me the material to wind up Mum and Dad. I’d tell them all sorts of stories about me and boys and what we’d get up to – at least, in theory. Most of it was made up, but it got them yelling at me, which to the teenage me felt like a result. One time I told them I’d slept with someone in the back field, another time that I’d caught chlamydia even though I was a virgin at the time. I don’t know why, but I just felt this urge to be rebellious. Mum and Dad were constantly nagging – in my eyes, for no good reason – so I thought I’d give them something to really shock them. It seems immature now, but at the time I didn’t see it like that.