Sleepless in Manchester Page 2

  The family sat watching the TV. The scraping noise of the back gate opening could be heard. Beryl sat forward in her chair and peered through the living room window that faced her. Her eyes squinted together as she tried to focus. “Oh, here he is now the drunken bastard.”

  Billy and Fallon shot a look at each other. “That’s my calling card to fuck off out of here,” Billy sniggered. Fallon grabbed the bag containing the perfumes nearer to her legs. Her dad wouldn’t think twice about having them away from her, he’d do anything to earn a quick few quid. He’d nicked stuff from his kids in the past, and none of them trusted him as far as they could throw him.

  Bob could be seen making his way to the back door. He was staggering from side to side and singing at the top of his voice, he was steaming. They all sat on the edge of their seats waiting for the door to open. The silver handle on the back door started moving about slowly. Billy sprang to his feet and ran towards it. Grabbing it tightly in his hands, he sniggered. “Let’s see him get in now the drunken bastard.” His size nine feet rammed at the bottom of the door stopping it from opening. Billy gripped the handle quickly holding it up so no one could enter.

  You could hear Bob ranting from outside. “Beryl, open the fucking door. I know you’re in, you daft bastard.” The family giggled as Bob tried again.

  Beryl bolted up from her chair, she was livid. “Here, move out of the way, let me talk to him. Make sure he doesn’t get in, Billy.” Fallon’s mother squashed her face up against the dirty windowpane; she took a few seconds to focus. She could see her husband holding one hand on the wall trying to steady himself. With a flat palm she banged on the glass to get his attention, he could see her now, his eyes looked bloodshot. “Where’s my fucking money? Don’t think for one minute you’re getting back inside this house without it.”

  Bob growled at her, he was fuming. He wobbled to where her face was on the window and whacked his clenched fist against it. The window nearly went through. Beryl jumped back with a look of shock on her face. She was scared and made sure her son was still at the side of her. “Just let me in woman.” Spit hung from the corner of his mouth and he was sliding his tongue slowly across his dry cracked lips.

  Beryl ran back to the window, she made sure he could hear her. “Nope, you can get to fuck. I want my money before you step one foot inside this house.” Bob dug his hand into his coat pocket and after a few minutes he pulled out a crumpled twenty pound note. Holding it out in his hand, he slurred his words. “That’s all I’ve got for now, you robbing bastard, you can have that.” Billy had had enough of waiting about, he looked frustrated. Slowly he moved his foot away from the door and Bob crashed face first into the house. Beryl snatched the cash from her husband’s hand and made her way back to her chair with speed. There was a rustling noise as she shoved the money deep inside her discoloured white bra.

  Patting it down with her hand she looked at Fallon in distress. “A poxy twenty quid to last us all week. What are we going to buy with that? He’s one selfish bastard your Dad is.”

  Fallon bolted up from the chair; she walked to where Bob lay and bent down. “Dad, just get into bed. Look at the state of you.”

  He rolled about and grabbed her by the hand with a look of desperation on his face. “Help me up ay? Nobody cares about me anymore. I may as well be dead, nobody cares.” Bob’s eyes looked empty and his pants had a wet patch at the front of them. He’d pissed himself again.

  Fallon screwed her face up and shot her eyes to her mother. “You’d better sort him out Mam, he’s piss wet through.”

  Beryl helped Fallon to get her husband onto the sofa. He was fighting with them both as they pulled his pants off. “Get your hands off me. I can look after myself. I don’t need anyone,” he growled. The two of them watched him as he melted back onto the floor. Beryl snapped, she’d had enough of him. This was a regular occurrence in their household and she’d had more than enough of her drunken husband’s antics. “Oh, leave him there.” Beryl shouted as she made her way back to her chair.

  Fallon took one last look at her Dad on the floor and headed upstairs towards her bedroom. She could hear her mother screaming at her father as she left the room. “Phew, what a family,” she mumbled under her breath. Fallon’s bedroom was the only place in the house that she could be alone and dream of a better life. Her single bed looked old, and the pink velvet headboard had seen better days. Sitting on the edge of the bed she stroked her hand across the over-washed duvet cover. Billy came to her bedroom door and popped his head inside. “Is he okay?”

  Fallon screwed her face up, “Who?”

  “My Dad, who else do you think I mean?” he shook his head and gasped his breath. “Where’s your head at these days, you’re in a world of your own aren’t you?” Fallon’s lips started to tremble. Her head sank into her hands, and she was sobbing. Billy stood for a minute and dragged his fingers through his hair he was unsure of what to do. He crept towards her. “Ay, what’s up?” he sat on the bed and grabbed her hand in his. “What’s up sis, come on, you can tell me. Why are you crying?”

  Fallon twisted her new necklace in her hands and lifted her head up. “It’s Dalton; he’s moving to London in a few weeks. What am I going to do without him, my head’s in bits?” She rocked her body forward, and snivelled. “I just love him Billy.” He held his sister in his arms and stared at the wall in front of him. If the truth was known he didn’t like Dalton, the sooner he was gone out of her life the better. He was trouble and Billy didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him. There was just something about him he couldn’t put his finger on.

  “Sssshhhh, everything going to be alright,” he whispered.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Fallon ran the bath, and sat on the toilet seat watching the water rise. Standing to her feet, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Wiping the mist away with one hand she drew her face closer. “Come on girl, sort it out,” she whispered under her breath. Submerging her slim body underneath the hot water she sunk her head back into the bath. Lying beneath the mass of bubbles she kicked her legs out slowly in front of her. Her hand searched for the soap; stretching her neck she located the remains of the Imperial Leather soap bar near the taps. There was barely enough left to create a lather. Scanning the side of the bath, she gripped the last bit of shampoo in the bottle; she’d already squirted a bit of it into the bathwater to create some bubbles and it was nearly all gone. Her Dad had left the family in dire straits for sure. No food, no toiletries - they were all heading for disaster.

  With a discoloured white towel tied around her head, Fallon searched for another towel to dry her body. Checking the dirty laundry basket at the side of her, she dragged one out from the bottom of it. Holding it to her nose, her nostrils flared. “I hate this house.” The towel was still damp and her face cringed as she wrapped it around her scrawny body. Walking into her bedroom, she was stressed. Tonight was going to be the last night she spent with Dalton, he wasn’t going to London for another few weeks but this was the last time his parents would be going out, and they would have the house to themselves. Holding the hairdryer in her hands she dragged the worn hairbrush through her long raven black hair.

  Fallon searched through her pine wardrobe. Her head was dipped deep inside it and you couldn’t see her face. Clothes were being flung over her head, until finally she found something to wear. Holding a pair of black leggings in her hand and a bright pink top she stood up from the floor looking frustrated. The leggings were tattered and the pink top was one she’d borrowed from her best friend Lesley, weeks before. With a quick rub of the iron over her clothes she flung them onto her bed. Pulling the small cracked mirror from the windowsill, she started to apply her make-up. With each stroke of the mascara over her long eyelashes she opened her mouth wide, she was concentrating. Yanking the drawer out of the bedside cabinet, she rummaged for some decent underwear. The red knickers she held in her hand had black lace edged around the crotch. They looked sexy. Sliding them over
her feet she yanked them up over thighs. Fallon was nearly ready and all that was left was for her to put her large looped silver earrings in. With a quick squirt of her new perfume she was ready to leave.

  Heading downstairs, she searched the hallway for her black flat shoes. Fallon loved them and always kept them as her best wear. She’d nicked the shoes months before from her local supermarket, they were her pride and joy. Shoplifting was the only way she could ever get any new clothes. Most of her mates took part in the same kind of crime, and like her they didn’t have a pot to piss in. Dalton knew nothing about her crimes and she planned to keep it that way. He wouldn’t understand what it was like to come from a family who were living on the breadline, his family wanted for nothing.

  “Mam, I’m off out, I’ll be back in later,” Fallon yelled.

  Beryl came to the hallway and stood over her as she pushed her feet into her shoes. “Where you going?”

  Fallon lifted her head up, “I’m going to Dalton’s house. I always go there on a Friday night, don’t I?” Her mother placed one hand on her hip, she looked edgy. She’d always thought her daughter was punching above her weight, and hated that she’d fallen head over heels in love with a rich kid.

  “Why are you bothering with him still? He’s leaving soon, and where will that leave you?” Beryl followed her into the kitchen still ranting. “I’ve told you from day one, that he’s not your type. You should stick to your own and then you won’t be disappointed.” Fallon twisted her head back to her mother; she’d heard it all before and was sick of people making judgement on the man she loved.

  “Mam, I love him, so what if his family is all about money, he’s not like that. He’s just like me. It’s a shame, no one warned you off from my Dad when you were younger isn’t it. Then, we wouldn’t be in the mess we are now, would we?”

  Beryl sighed and held her head back. “We’ll see love; it’s just a matter of time before he trades you in for some posh dolly bird.”

  Fallon was spitting feathers and snapped at her. “Mam, do you think I need to hear this right now? I’m heartbroken you know, try and show a bit of sympathy, ay.”

  “I’m just saying that’s all. Time will tell, I just hope I’m wrong.” Beryl stressed.

  Fallon left the family home with a look of desperation written all over her face. Billy had bunged her a ten pound note as she left. He knew she was skint and did all he could to help her out. Gripping the black bin liner containing the perfumes, she headed up Rochdale road towards the Shiredale pub. The weather was warm for a change and the sun hurt her eyes as she walked at speed. The noise of the traffic flying by could be heard.

  Dragging the door open, Fallon walked inside the boozer. A few of the regulars were in and they rubbed their hands together as they saw her enter. The jukebox was playing ‘I want to be with you everywhere’ by Fleetwood Mac. Fallon mouthed the words to the song as she neared the bar, she loved this song.

  Mary, the landlady, caught her eye. “What are you flogging today sweetheart?” Mary had bleached blonde hair and was plump; she was a typical northern landlady and she was always up for some cheap knock-off gear. Fallon walked up to the bar where she was stood, and plonked the bag on the bar. “I’ve got some perfumes, Mary, all the latest ones if ya wanna have a look.” Dipping her hand into the bag she pulled out the boxes of scent. The other punters were hovering nearby; they didn’t want to miss out on any bargains and were eager to get their share of the swag.

  “How much are they?” Mary asked as she read the name on the boxes.

  “A tenner each. They’re about forty quid, to buy in the shops you know,” Fallon’s eyes were wide open; she was a great salesperson.

  “Can I open one,” Mary asked. “I mean it could smell like cat-piss couldn’t it?”

  “Yeah go on then,” Fallon chuckled. The landlady ripped the cellophane from the box and squirted the scent onto her wrist. Inhaling deeply she looked pleased. “Oh, that’s nice, I’ll have this one. It smells like vanilla.”

  The other punters grabbed the remaining perfumes from the bar, and before long Fallon had sold all her goods. With the money held in her hand she thanked her customers and listened to what else they needed. Mary was always buying swag from Fallon and loved getting things on the cheap. “I need some make-up and face creams if you come across any on your travels.” Fallon smirked as she walked towards the exit. “I’ll keep my eye out for you Mary; as soon as any comes up I’ll give you a shout.” Fallon turned her head before she left and she could see the customers squirting the perfume on their bodies.

  Dalton lived in Blackley; it wasn’t far from her house and only took about fifteen minutes to walk there. He lived on a posh estate at the top of Hill Lane in a four bedroom house. As Fallon walked up the hill towards his house, she took a look at her surroundings. Perhaps her mother was right; she was punching above her weight. Each house looked like it was full of money and happiness. As she gazed into a bay window nearby, she could see a young couple kissing each other, their faces looked contented and she could see they were so in love. Fallon sighed and tried not to watch the couple any longer but she couldn’t stop staring. The people she saw in the house had everything she wanted in life. She was envious.

  Dalton’s house stared back at her. Walking down the garden path she could smell the aroma from the red roses that were planted neatly along the fence at the side of her. When she had her own house, she wanted her garden to look exactly like this, it was so welcoming. Tapping on the brass letterbox she touched the petals from the flowers at the side of her with her fingertips, they felt like silk. Fallon could hear someone coming towards the doors; she quickly removed her hand from the flowers. Eyes dipped, she clocked the red petals that had fallen next to her feet, she looked anxious. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered. Kicking them quickly she tried to remove them from near her feet, it was too late. Maria stood at the door and her eyes shot down to Fallon’s feet. Fallon looked embarrassed and started to blush. “I only touched them softly,” she stressed. Dalton’s mother scowled at her and bent down; she was scooping the petals up into her hand with a distressed look on her face. She was angry and she couldn’t hide it. Fallon stood fidgeting and waited for her to finish. “Is Dalton in, Maria?”

  “Yes,” she snapped. “Just go inside, while I clean this bloody mess up.” Fallon looked sheepish; stepping into the house she was just about to walk into the hallway when she heard Maria shrieking behind her. “Shoes! Make sure you take them off. I’ve just had that carpet cleaned and I don’t want any stains on it.”

  Fallon gritted her teeth together and tried to stay calm, she hated this woman with a passion. “I’m taking them off, don’t worry Maria,” she hissed.

  Dalton bounced down the stairs and sounded like a herd of elephants. Looking out of the front door he could see his mother cleaning the pathway. “What’s she doing?” he asked with a smirk on his face.

  Fallon bit her lip and tried not to laugh. “I only touched the flowers softly and they all fell off onto the floor,” she raised her eyes to the ceiling. “I’m sure your Mam thinks I did it on purpose.”

  Dalton chuckled, “Oh, just ignore her. She thinks she’s Alan Titchmarsh with her green fingers, she’s potty. Do you want a drink?”

  Fallon nodded, her mouth felt dry. “Yeah, just let me get my shoes off and I’ll be with you. I don’t want to upset her Royal Highness, do I?” He grinned and left her side, he headed into the kitchen. Dalton knew more than anyone that his mother was hard work and even he was struggling to keep his cool with her. You could hear the tap water running.

  Maria was stood over Fallon with a handful of petals in her hand. “Ten petals were on that floor, you must have pulled at them or something. I mean, they just don’t just fall off do they?” Fallon stood looking at her, she was lost for words. Was this woman being serious or what, they were petals for crying out loud. Maria was a couple of butties short of a picnic for sure.

  Dalton came back fro
m the kitchen and saved her bacon just in time. “Mam, stop moaning for Christ’s sake, we’re talking about flowers here, not a human life.” Fallon couldn’t hold her laughter any longer and her shoulders were shaking as she covered her mouth with her hand. Maria shot her eyes at her son and marched into the kitchen in a strop. “Just ignore the nutter,” Dalton whispered.

  Fallon slurped her glass of orange juice. Her taste buds were alive; she hadn’t tasted anything like this brand before. Her mother always bought the cheapest brands of food and drinks, and she could tell just by tasting it, this was top of the range. She could actually taste the oranges in it. Dalton closed the door and walked towards her. “They should be going out soon,” his face was excited as they headed upstairs. Jumping onto the bed he lay flat with his hands looped behind his head. “You’ll always be the love of my life Fallon, no matter what,” he whispered. Fallon’s bottom lip started to tremble as she struggled to hold back her emotions.

  Rolling her body next to his she lay flat on her stomach with her legs kicking out behind her. “Do you mean that, or are you just filling my head with shit because you’re going away.”

  “Nar,” he sighed. “Move up here closer to me,” he patted his hand on the bed next to him. Rustling noises could be heard. She was looking directly into his eyes and they held a look at each other. Their lips slowly started to connect. The bedroom door flew open and they both pulled away from each other looking flustered. “Mam, will you knock before you come barging in here, you’re doing my head in,” Dalton was fuming, his cheeks were blushing and he covered his crotch with his hand.

  Maria walked over to his bed and placed a pile of neatly ironed clothes at the end of it. She stroked the stack of clothes with her flat palm. “There you go son, all nice and clean.” Fallon looked at Maria and shook her head slowly, she didn’t know if she felt jealousy for the way she treated her son, or for the way she just felt uncomfortable in her company. The teenagers were sat up on the bed and Dalton’s mother wasn’t in any rush to leave the room, she was lingering. Maria walked to the cream coloured blinds and peeled them back from the window gently. “I won’t be sorry to see the back of this place you know,” her body bent over as she gazed through the white double glazed windows. Maria always looked after herself and she was toned and trim, her black pants hugged her legs like a glove. Maria coughed and cleared her throat; twisting her head slowly over her shoulder she fixed her eyes on Fallon. “Has Dalton told you his dad is finding him work when we get to London, he’ll be on good wages too? He can have anything his heart desires then, can’t you son?” her voice was animated.