The enchanted poppy field must have made him forgot all about Oz.
Or more likely it was the Doom Bar.
‘I think I should go with you,’ he said.
‘That could only be counterproductive,’ I replied. ‘And I’m a big girl now; I can look after myself.’
Then, gently squeezing his gonads, I murmured: ‘I’m a big girl and you’re definitely a big boy. Can you look after yourself or do you want me to take care of you?’
Guess which option he chose.
*****
Daddy drove me into town, dropping me off as close to The Masons as he could. Because we hadn’t any idea how long my “meeting” would last, we had agreed to meet up again in Sainsbury’s at three, with the proviso I’d ring him if I was going to overrun.
‘Watch out for her,’ he warned as I shut the passenger door.
‘Never fear, I’ll call on Glinda the Good Witch if I need to,’ I replied.
Wanting to keep Mother on her toes, I diverted into Boots to make a just-in-case purchase, arriving at the pub two or three minutes late. Mother wasn’t there yet but I recognized the sulky-looking girl over by the bar.
What the fuck was Amy doing there?
Before I could ignore her she saw me and waved. And knock me down with a feather, she smiled at me.
‘Hi Natalie,’ she said. ‘What are you drinking?’
Nodding to a couple of lads I knew from my schooldays, I reluctantly joined her at the bar. Determined I wouldn’t make a scene I said, through gritted teeth, ‘What are you doing here, Amy?’
‘I’m supposed to be shopping but the shops are all crap. I’m going to get your mum to drive me to the White Rose.’
‘On a Saturday afternoon; you’ll be in luck!’
‘She suggested it, actually. Now, can I get you that drink?’
‘I’ll have a pint of Theakston’s,’ I said maliciously. Amy looked to be fifteen at most. It would be good to see her being thrown out of the pub for buying under-age. Hell, with any luck she might even get arrested.
As if!
Beckoning the barman Amy ordered “the same again” and my pint. Incredibly, the barman served her without blinking an eye.
‘Cheers,’ she said, passing me a frothing glass.
I shook my head to clear it. Amy was drinking Bacardi and Coke, and a double at that. What had gone wrong with ID cards and alcohol awareness?
Before I could think of anything to say Mother arrived. True to form, she was ten minutes late. Maybe she’d hidden round the corner waiting for me to show up, guaranteeing the big entrance for hers truly.
She seemed surprised to see Amy, however; surprised and not at all pleased.
‘I told you not before half past,’ she said. ‘Natalie and I have things to discuss.’
Amy merely shrugged. ‘I’ll be playing that bandit,’ she said, indicating a nearby fruit machine.
Mother asked me if I wanted another drink. Being a penniless student, I instinctively said yes. Then we took a relatively secluded table by the window.
‘How old is she?’ I asked, watching Amy plough money into the machine.
‘She’s eighteen.’
‘Bollocks! I’ve got shoes older than her.’
‘Believe me, Natalie. She is eighteen, taking a gap year.’
‘Huh,’ said I, ‘I hope she plays bandits better than she does Super Mario 3.’