Claire parked quite a way down the road. It was always busy here on a Saturday night and because of the party at The Glass Bottom Boat, there seemed to be fewer spaces than ever.
‘Oh, man,’ Abby said, as she stared out of the passenger window and looked at the pub in the distance. There were a whole lot of people milling around between here and there. She’d seemed quite confident all the way here, but now her face was looking a little pale under Kitty’s foundation. ‘I wish Ricky had said yes so I wouldn’t have to go in there on my own.’
Claire thought for a moment. She still had twenty minutes before she’d arranged to meet Nick. ‘Do you want us to walk up with you? Safety in numbers and all that?’
‘Would you?’
‘‘Course we would,’ said Kitty and she winked at Abby. ‘Secretly, I’m hoping to crash so I can see your mum’s reaction to your dress.’
‘We’re not going to crash,’ Claire said firmly, and instantly saw the disappointment on both Abby and Kitty’s faces. ‘But we could stand at the door for a few minutes, if you want us to?’
Abby nodded, her expression grateful.
‘Okay, let’s go then.’
When they got to the pub, Abby stopped walking. ‘Crap,’ she said, staring at the double doors that had been propped open with fire extinguishers. ‘It’s packed.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ Claire told her, feeling a little wobble in her own stomach on Abby’s behalf. This lot were rather rowdy.
Abby clutched her middle, where a wide white belt cinched in her waist. ‘I think I’m going to puke.’
‘Not in that dress, you don’t’ said Kitty quickly and rather sternly.
Abby looked up at her and nodded. ‘Right.’
They pushed past the people crowding around the entrance so they were standing just inside. Claire couldn’t really see much above the crush, but hoped that Abby could. ‘Can you spot your mum?’ she yelled above the noise.
Abby squinted and looked round the room. ‘No,’ Abby yelled back, looking from left to right, but then there was a loud cackle from somewhere near the bar and Abby’s head snapped round. ‘There she is!’
Kitty pushed herself up onto tiptoes and Claire tried to move so she could see round someone’s head.
‘The petite woman in leopard print, with the big hair and six-inch heels,’ Abby said. Both Claire and Kitty looked back at Abby in shock. ‘Yeah, I know,’ she said. ‘Sometimes I wonder if the stork really did bring me.’
Claire gave her a quick, one-armed hug, as much as the space constraints would allow. ‘It’s your moment,’ she said. ‘Good luck.’
‘Knock ‘em dead,’ Kitty said in all seriousness.
Abby nodded, took a deep breath and headed on through the crush. In the wake she created, Claire and Kitty were able to sidle a little bit closer.
Abby pushed her way to the edge of the circle of people surrounding the guest of honour and waited, but nobody said anything. Claire was trying to work out why they were all being so rude, when she realised it was just like when she’d seen Kitty on the doorstep – for a moment not even her own mother recognised Abby.
Abby stepped forward. ‘Mum?’
Her mum stopped in the middle of a story and turned to face her daughter. Her face was completely blank, and then, slowly, so very slowly, recognition dawned in her eyes. ‘Abby?’
Abby nodded.
Her mother looked her up and down. ‘What the bloody hell are you wearing?’
‘A dress,’ Abby said, looking perplexed.
Claire had a bad feeling about this. She’d expected a joyful, almost tearful expression, but Abby’s mum wasn’t looking very happy at all. Claire tried to push a little bit closer.
Abby, whose expression had been both scared and hopeful, started to slouch and she hugged herself around her middle. ‘You said you wanted me in a dress, so here I am in a dress.’
‘I know I said I wanted you in a dress,’ her mother said, hands on her hips, voice tense, ‘and I know you didn’t like the idea. But it doesn’t give you the licence to come along to my birthday party and bloody take the mick!’
Abby’s mouth dropped open. ‘I’m not!’
‘Polka dots? Little white collars? Seriously? What’s wrong with a bit of Lycra, for goodness’ sake? Who do you think you are? Doris bloody Day?’ And then she nodded to herself. ‘That’s it, isn’t it? You didn’t like me making you go to that club and this is your way of paying me back. Well, it’s not going to work, you know!’
It was at that unfortunate moment that the DJ had chosen to change tracks and her voice rang out in the silence. Everyone turned and looked at Abby. Everyone. Claire’s stomach dived. She knew Abby didn’t do well when cornered, and she was proved right when Abby let out a string of rather unladylike words.
Her mother stared at her, face rigid, and then she began to shake. She thumped the woman standing next to her on the arm while still keeping her eyes on her daughter. ‘Give me my handbag.’
The woman handed it over.
Her mother rummaged inside and then produced the pair of tickets Abby had been dreaming about all these months. Then, carefully and very deliberately, she gripped them in her blood-red talons and tore them in two.
‘No!’ Abby shouted and dived for the pieces, but they’d fluttered to the floor and were now being kicked this way and that by the rest of her mother’s guests.
She stood up again and looked at her mum. ‘I hate you,’ she yelled, just before the music started up again, and then she pushed her way through the crowd and out the door with something approaching superhuman strength. It must have been, because Claire tried to follow and found herself blocked in.
She looked this way and that, searching for a better exit route, and that’s when her eyes locked with those of the guest of honour. Abby’s mum’s eyes narrowed and she started marching towards her.
‘You put her up to this, didn’t you? You and that sad little club of yours!’ she spat at Claire. ‘You helped her.’
‘Yes, we did,’ Claire said, any wobble that had been in her stomach gone. She pulled herself up taller. ‘And I’m proud of it. That girl tried really, really hard to impress you. You have no idea how scared she was to come in here and face you and all your friends, and you threw it all back in her face! You should be ashamed of yourself – at the very least you should have let her explain.’
The other woman put her hands on her hips. ‘Oh, should I?’
Claire just raised her eyebrows and let the other woman work it out for herself.
‘Well, there’s something else I should do, because I don’t think I remember inviting you to my party.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Claire said, as she turned towards the door. ‘I’m going.’ And the stunned crowed parted before her like the Red Sea until she reached the door.
When she walked into the cold night air, her heart was pounding, partly from the adrenalin rush of the confrontation, but partly because she was just so angry on Abby’s behalf, especially because she knew what it was like to have a parent who judged you and found you wanting, no matter how hard you tried.
Kitty was already outside the pub, looking up and down the street.
‘Did you see which way she went?’ Claire asked.
Kitty shook her head.
‘You go that way,’ Claire said pointing to the left, ‘and I’ll go the other.’
Claire checked the alley down the side of the pub and found no trace of Abby, but then she had a brainwave. She crossed the road and headed into the park, towards where the football goals were. When she was maybe thirty feet away she started to wonder if she could see a group of large white dots collected near one of the goalposts and, when she got closer, she realised she was right.
‘Oh, Abby,’ she said and drew the girl into a hug. Abby was stiff against her. ‘Do you want me to take you home? I’ll have to find Kitty first, though.’
‘Kitty’s right here,’ a voice said behind her, slightly breathlessly. ‘I saw you going into the park and followed.’
Abby peeled herself away from Claire. ‘I don’t want to go home. Ever.’
Claire decided not to push the point, even if she knew Abby would have to set foot across her own doorstep at some point.
‘You can come back and stay at mine and Grace’s,’ Kitty said firmly. ‘We were going to have a Katherine Hepburn movie marathon when she got in from work, and I’m positive she won’t mind.’
‘Are you sure?’ Abby said hopefully.
Kitty nodded. ‘Cross my heart,’ she said, drawing one glossy nail across her ratty T-shirt. ‘You can kip on the sofa.’
Abby closed her eyes. ‘Do you think I could go to sleep and wake up somewhere else, better still, someone else?’
‘If you lie still long enough, Grace will probably give you a makeover,’ Kitty said. ‘Does that count?’
For the first time in what seemed like months, although it was actually probably only an hour, Abby smiled. ‘Can’t hurt to try,’ she said, as she Kitty and Claire walked back across the park towards the gate.