Cathy Kelly - Past Secrets

‘In your dreams,’ he said.

‘Mum would go mental if she knew you’d had that huge party in the house when the rest of us were in Kerry at Christmas,’ Ella said, all wide-eyed innocence. ‘The one where the neighbours called the police. You’d be chopped liver if she ever found out. You know what she’s like about not upsetting the neighbours…’

‘How did you hear about that?’ demanded Marco and then slapped his forehead and groaned. ‘You didn’t know, did you? You were just guessing.’

‘Oh, Marco, we knew about the party,’ Amber said, exasperated. ‘We were only guessing about the police, but we found some guy’s coat under Ella’s bed, along with a lot of empty Heineken cans and a condom.’

Marco blanched.

‘It’s not as if Ella put the beer cans there. We never drink beer. We prefer wine or vodka,’ she added, hoping to sound worldly-wise.

‘Can’t you go out with your own friends?’ Marco begged, not even commenting on the wine or vodka remark. It seemed like only last week his sister and her friend had been sobbing their hearts out over guinea pig funerals in the back garden and winning badges for Guides.

‘Think of it as community service for deeds previously unpunished,’ Amber pointed out. ‘We won’t be any trouble. Once we’re in the club, you can forget about us. We can look after ourselves.’

‘OK, you’re nearly eighteen and you know everything, right?’ he said sarcastically.

‘I’ve a yellow belt in karate,’ Amber said, assuming what she hoped was a karate stance, though it was years since she’d set foot on a dojo. Her mother’s insistence on self-defence lessons had been fun when she’d been ten, less so when she hit puberty.

Marco sighed. ‘Close combat is not the answer to all situations in life. The most dangerous guys in the club probably won’t ask you to arm wrestle, Amber. Understand?’ He looked at both girls as sternly as he could. ‘I don’t want to have to come home at two in the morning and tell Mum and Dad that I’ve lost you two. Or worse, tell your mother, Amber. She’d rip me limb from limb.’

Amber’s mother had always made Marco a bit nervous. There was something steely in Mrs Reid’s gaze, as if she was warning him that she had his measure.

‘We’re not kids,’ growled Amber. ‘We’re coming. It’s no skin off your nose. You only have to get us in.’

‘Well, you’ll have to watch your drinks,’ sighed Marco, knowing when he was beaten. ‘There are guys out there who’ll slip a date rape drug in your glass and, well…you don’t have any experience. You don’t know the half of it.’

‘You’re a wonderful brother.’ Ella gave him a hug.

‘This is a one-off deal,’ Marco insisted. ‘OK? And you’ve got to behave yourselves.’

‘Of course,’ said Amber, who had absolutely no intention of behaving herself. She could do that in the football club.

The truly difficult part of the plan was lying to her mother about where she and Ella were going that night. They decided that, because of Faye’s ultra-vigilance, they’d stay at Ella’s that night after their alleged trip to the disco. Having gone through it all before, Ella’s parents were definitely more relaxed about their daughter’s behaviour.

‘Mum will check we’re home, but if I put pillows in the beds, she’ll think we’re there,’ Ella said.

Amber thought of how her mum never slept until Amber was back after an evening out. How many nights had they sat up on Amber’s bed on her return, Mum listening as Amber recounted her triumphs and disasters?

Then, she brushed the feeling of guilt away. It was only because Mum was so protective that she had to lie. She wasn’t a kid any more. She didn’t want to hurt Mum’s feelings but she had to move on and Mum must be made to understand that.

Getting into Highway Seven worked precisely as Ella had predicted, although Amber only felt her breathing come right when they were deep inside the club, far from the stern eye of the doorman. In spite of her outward nonchalance, she was nervous. She and Ella might have sunbathed on the forbidden gym roof and smoked a few illicit cigarettes, but they were strictly homework-on-time girls in other respects. This was breaking into new territory, both exciting and scary at the same time.

Dark, moody and almost vibrating with bass-deep music, the club was crowded with bodies, perfume and a sweet smell that Amber knew was marijuana because even the football club wasn’t trouble-free.

‘Er…what do you want to do now?’ asked Marco, wondering how he’d got lumbered with this situation. Thankfully, the two girls looked old enough to fit in, but hey, they were still his little sister and her friend. He had a bad vibe about the whole thing.

‘We’re fine,’ Amber said airily.

‘Yeah, you go off with your mates. We’re cool,’ Ella added, matching her friend’s unconcerned look.

Marco shrugged, but he looked relieved. ‘If you’re sure…’

‘We’re sure.’ Both girls nodded.

Amber scanned her surroundings idly, her body moving gently to the music. Ella adopted the same laid-back hauteur.

Marco was no match for them. He was fooled.

‘Text me if you need me,’ he said, then turned and was swallowed up by the crowd.

On their own, Amber and Ella clutched each other and shrieked, all pretence at being cool gone. Nobody heard them over the pumping beat. ‘We’re here,’ they screeched and did their own little war dance.

‘Loos,’ gasped Amber, taking Ella by the hand.

In the toilets, they re-adopted adult cool while Amber applied a line of smoky kohl around the rims of her eyes like she’d seen in a magazine. The effect was startling: her beautiful eyes seemed larger and more hypnotic than ever.

‘You really do look twenty-one,’ sighed Ella, pausing in the act of applying another coat of sticky lip gloss.

A woman rinsing her hands at the next basin glanced at them.

‘Thanks!’ said Amber. ‘I’m actually thirty-two but my plastic surgeon is a miracle worker.’

The woman left in a hurry and they creased over laughing again, high on their own daring.

They had enough money to order one drink each, which they’d have to make last all night, and they stood at the bar, nursing their vodkas, trying to look as if they’d been here a million times before and were bored with it all.

Behind her calm façade, Amber was enthralled, watching everyone, envying them the way they all seemed to fit in.

In a corner cordoned off by velvet rope sat a dozen people drinking champagne. All beautiful, having the time of their lives, utterly at home. One slender brunette in faded, sequin-decorated jeans was holding court, talking and laughing, while everyone else watched her with evident fascination. In that one second, Amber longed to be just like her: part of the scene instead of watching enviously from the sidelines.

Then, one of the guys saw her watching them, a guy with dark cropped hair and stubble that was probably five o’clock shadow at ten in the morning. His gaze was so intense Amber looked away in embarrassment. Shit, how gauche to be caught staring hungrily like a schoolgirl.

She did her best to stare anywhere else, but she really wanted to look back at the guy and drink him in. She’d never felt that connection before, that instant buzz from another human being, the feeling that she knew him.

But who was she kidding? He was probably only staring at her because it was obvious she and Ella were out of place. She’d thought they looked old enough but perhaps they didn’t and the guy was wondering what a kid was doing there.

‘Nobody’s bothering to chat us up,’ moaned Ella beside her.

‘It’s early yet,’ said Amber with more enthusiasm than she felt. Perhaps Marco had been right and they should have gone out with their own friends, but the football club would seem so tame after this. After him.