‘Do you live around here?’ Mick put on all the charm. It seemed to be working, because she hadn’t noticed him checking the clock behind her. She was in a right state, but it had been a while since he had been in the company of a woman and he didn’t want her to pass out before he had the chance to test her out.
Slurring her words, Vicki just about managed to get out a, ‘Yessss, round corner …’ pointing in what Mick could only assume was the direction of her flat. Though if Mick had followed her directions, he’d have ended up in the pub toilets for all her swaying about.
‘Well, I’m thinking that you’re too pretty to be going home alone this evening, and I would hate to see anything happen to you, so why don’t we take this party back to your place? We can stop at the shops and grab a few cans if you’d like?’ Mick thought it was a smile he saw, or it could’ve been gas from the way she was downing those ciders.
He looped his arm in hers and propped her up, as they walked out the bar. Despite the state of her, she was confident where she was going. That was the sign of a seasoned alcoholic. After stopping at the shops and grabbing four cans of cider, it took only a further fifteen minutes to arrive at a dingy block of flats. Mick was beginning to realize just how small Markston was; his own place was probably a fifteen-minute walk from Vicki’s. Handy if he needed to make a quick exit.
As they walked into the building, the smell of piss hit Mick in the face and he nearly retched up his lunch. The stench didn’t seem to bother Vicki at all. The lift was no better and needles adorned the floor. Fucking dirty bastards. Mick was careful where he stood and tried to steer Vicki clear of the sharpies. They got off on the third floor and Vicki rummaged through her bag for her keys.
‘Would you like some help, darling?’ He rubbed her back. Vicki eventually found her keys and once the door was open, she pulled Mick eagerly inside. That was easy. She tasted of cider, but Mick didn’t care. He shoved her towards the couch, wasn’t in the mood for foreplay. Vicki squirmed but didn’t put up too much of a struggle. She was definitely up for it.
When finished, Mick got dressed, and cracked open one of the cans.
‘Boy did I need that.’ He turned to look at Vicki, but she’d fallen asleep. Fucking slag. He’d keep her sweet though; she was handy for a shag. At least until something better came along. Mick wanted to make a quick getaway before Vicki woke up. It was one thing to stare at the back of her head and get his rocks off drunk; he wasn’t sure he could stomach looking at her face in the cold light of day. Finishing off his can, he walked quietly around the living room, to see if she had anything worth taking. Given her drink habit, he suspected that any valuables were long gone by now. The carpet was stained with what could only be alcohol and cigarette ash and the walls had the dull hue of yellow that came from years of smoking. Taking the remainder of the cans with him, he made his way to the door and snuck out before Vicki noticed.
Mick arrived back at his flat and picked up his post before going inside. Opening the letter, Mick crumpled the paper up in frustration. Fucking probation! Do this. Do that! I’m sick of this shit … Knowing he still had quite a while left on his licence, he’d play the game carefully for now. It was getting more difficult though. He was too old for prison and he finally had a decent flat of his own. He thought about his kids and wished it hadn’t gone as far as it had with their mother. But if she had just kept her gob shut, they might still be a family today, or at least he’d have some sort of relationship with his kids. If he ever saw her again … He opened another can of cider and took a long hard swig. There was only so long that Mick could keep things bottled up inside, and he pitied whoever was in front of him when that volcano erupted.