Blood Ties: Part 2 of 3: Family is not always a place of safety. Julie Shaw
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finish this on his own. ‘You know what?’ he told Irene mildly. ‘You’re a nasty piece of work, you. I’m sorry for your loss – truly sorry too, because I liked Darren. He was a nice lad, a good lad, and he’ll be very much missed. But, you know what? All this’ – he raised the hand that still had Kathleen’s curled within it – ‘is just nasty. Uncalled for. Offensive. What’s Kathleen ever done to you, eh?’
‘Terry, don’t …’ Kathleen entreated. She couldn’t help herself.
He squeezed her hand. Nodded. ‘No, you’re right, love,’ he said. ‘Let’s blame it on the lack of sleep, eh? Mine and hers,’ he said, nodding dismissively towards a now open-mouthed Irene. ‘Let’s get off to the bonfire, shall we? Got your coat? Let me help you. Let’s get going,’ he finished, his eyes glittering as they met hers. ‘Get outside, where the air’s a bit less poisonous.’
‘You cheeky bloody bastard!’ Irene began, as Terry helped Kathleen into her coat. ‘How dare you! How dare you come in here and start mouthing off at me! How dare you –’
But neither of them heard any more. Just the sound of the foyer door sighing closed behind them.
As it turned out, Irene had been right. There were plenty more fireworks to be let off that evening – a whole box, a big box, full of rockets.
They’d skipped out onto the empty street, arms as well as hands now entwined, and for a few lingering moments, Terry had said nothing to her at all. Just pulled her towards him and smiled, and kissed her hungrily on the mouth, under the benign gaze of the street lamp outside. His skin was cold – the air was bitter – but his lips and arms were warm, and as he snaked the latter round her, she buried her own up inside his jumper. ‘Blimey, Terry,’ she admonished him, once they finally separated. ‘Haven’t you got a coat with you? You’ll catch your death out here!’
He tipped his head back to look at her. His hair was haloed gold by the street light. Then he grimaced. ‘Guess what? It’s on the coat hook, back in there.’
It was too cold to even think about going to the bonfire without it, so, after some whispered deliberation, it was Kathleen who fetched it, sneaking into the foyer, keeping low, avoiding the glass-panelled inner doors, and emerging with it moments later, almost doubled up with stifled giggles.
Terry kissed her again then, reeling her in as she tried to help him fasten it – it was a donkey jacket, which fastened with big, troublesome buttons, and with the temperature so low now they were out in the night air, he was having some difficulty doing them up.
‘I can’t believe you did that,’ she said finally. ‘I can’t believe it.’
‘What, that? I’ve been waiting to do that for days now, I can tell you.’
‘No, not that! I meant taking on my stepmam like that.’
‘Earned the kiss, then?’
‘Earned several,’ she said, threading her arm through the crook of his.
They set off up the road, walking fast, to keep the cold from creeping up on them, heading towards the snicket, where they could cut through to the rest of the estate.
‘I’m not sure I can quite believe it myself,’ he admitted, after a moment. Then he sighed. ‘It was just on the spur of the moment. I couldn’t help myself. I hope I’ve not caused you a lorry load of trouble now.’
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