Errors of Judgment(86)

‘What’s that?’ asked Denise.

‘Some stuff of Vince’s.’

Denise nodded, not comprehending. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’ She headed for the kitchen, and Felicity followed.

‘You caught me on the hop,’ said Denise, filling the kettle, then reaching for cigarettes and a lighter lying on the worktop. She gave a throaty laugh. ‘Or rather, off it. I was out on the piss with Shelley and Rhona last night.’ She pulled out a fag, snapped the lighter, and took a deep drag. ‘Getting too old for this caper. But we had a laugh.’ Her gaze wandered for a few seconds, then returned to Felicity. ‘So – what brings you round here on a Saturday?’

‘Like I said, I’ve brought Vince’s things.’ She set the bag against the leg of the kitchen table. ‘I can’t have him living with me any more.’

Denise’s eyes widened. ‘What you on about?’

‘I’ve told him a million times – things aren’t working out between us. We’re bad for one another. I need him to leave. But he won’t listen. So I had the locks changed this morning, while he’s out. I didn’t know what else to do. And I’ve brought you his things.’

Denise set her cigarette carefully to one side, its tip clear of the work surface. Then she grasped Felicity’s forearms gently and looked intently into her face. ‘Fliss, don’t do this. You’re the best thing that ever happened to him. He needs you.’

‘Well, I don’t need him,’ replied Felicity stonily. ‘And he’s about the worst thing that ever happened to me. Not that he’s a bad person. But I can’t carry him. He’s lazy, he’s a sponger, and I don’t want him any more.’ Denise let go of Felicity. Her expression was stunned, pained. ‘I don’t mean to hurt you, Denise. But this is … this is non-negotiable.’

Denise raked a hand through her hair. ‘What makes you think I want him here?’

‘I don’t, necessarily. But I couldn’t think of anywhere else to bring his stuff.’ She sighed. ‘No point in tea. I’d best be off.’ She turned and went down the hall. Denise padded behind her.

‘He’s not going to let it end here, you know,’ said Denise, when they reached the front door.

‘It’s not up to him. Vince has got to sort his life out without me.’ She leant forward and gave Denise a peck on the cheek. ‘Good luck.’

‘Thanks,’ replied Denise. She sounded weary. Felicity left and drove home, astonished at how accepting Denise had been. But then, she was Vince’s mother. She knew better than anyone what Felicity had been putting up with.

Vince went to the local market and did some desultory shopping with Felicity’s money, dropped in at the bookies, and then went to the pub, where he spent the afternoon watching the football and drinking with his mates. It wasn’t until seven o’clock that he began to wonder where Felicity was. He rang her mobile a few times, but got no answer. He and his friends decided to move from the Kempton Arms to another pub for more drinks, and from there to a club in Brixton, and although Vince tried ringing Felicity a couple of times throughout the evening, he wasn’t especially bothered when she didn’t answer. He tried his luck in the club with a redhead called Candice but, being pretty drunk by this stage, didn’t get far. He left the club with Ossie and Quills, and they went to buy kebabs. Vince suggested going back to Felicity’s place for a few more drinks and some dope. Felicity, he assured them, would be cool about it.

Fifteen minutes later, Vince was battling boozily with the lock. Eventually he gave up and started banging on the door. When that produced no result, he tried the keys again. After more struggling and swearing, Ossie took over.

‘They don’t work, mate,’ he concluded. ‘They don’t fit. You sure they’re the right keys?’

‘Course they’re the right keys. They’re the only ones I’ve got.’

‘This the right door?’ ventured Quills.

‘Course it’s the right fucking door!’ Vince began to beat on it again.

‘I reckon she changed the locks, mate,’ said Quills.

‘Happens,’ agreed Ossie.

Vince stared at them for a moment, then started banging on the door again, shouting Felicity’s name.

A man in a vest and boxers emerged from a flat down the corridor.

‘You lot gonna stop that effing noise? I’ve got a baby in here.’

‘Fuck off!’ Vince began kicking the door.

Felicity’s neighbour stormed down the corridor. He was enormous and beefy, and sufficiently enraged not to feel intimidated by three drunks. ‘Right,’ he said.