Читать книгу The Trap - Kimberley Chambers - Страница 20

Nancy Walker felt a surge of excitement as she took in the electric atmosphere of the funfair. The waft of fried onions hung heavily in the air, music was being played at full blast, and the sound of laughter was prominent wherever you walked. Nancy’s dad had never allowed her go to the fair with just a friend before. He said the rides were run by gypsies and they preyed on innocent young girls like herself. It had been her mum who had come up trumps for her in the end. She had argued that now Nancy was sixteen and in full-time employment, she was old enough to make her own decisions.

‘I just love the smell of fairgrounds, don’t you?’ Nancy said to her best friend, Rhonda Gibbs. Nancy had met Rhonda soon after her family had moved to Ilford from Whitechapel. They had been in the same class at school, and were rarely seen out and about without one another now. They even had jobs working side by side in their local Woolworth’s store.

‘Yep. I love the smell too. Shall we get some candy floss? Or a toffee apple?’ Rhonda suggested.

Nancy giggled. ‘We have come over here to see if we can find the men of our dreams, Rhon. Candy floss and toffee apples are hardly man magnets. If we are munching on them, we are gonna look like kids.’

‘But you’ve already found the man of your dreams. You’ve got Roger,’ Rhonda joked.

Nancy punched her pal playfully on the arm. Roger Robins was the son of her parents’ friends, Margaret and Derrick. At twenty-one, Roger worked for a branch of Barclays Bank in London. On numerous occasions, he had invited Nancy to go dancing or to the pictures, but much to her parents’ dismay, Nancy had politely declined.

With her size-eight figure, ample breasts, and long blonde hair, Nancy wanted a bit more out of life than boring Roger. The pop star Marc Bolan was Nancy’s perfect vision of a man. Marc was wild, cool and handsome, everything that Roger wasn’t. Nancy liked excitement and she would rather entertain a bad boy any day of the week than date some complete and utter bore.

‘Wow! He’s nice,’ Rhonda exclaimed.

‘Which one?’

‘He’s got shoulder-length dark hair and is standing by the coconut shy with a group of lads.’

Nancy surreptitiously glanced around. ‘All of them have shoulder-length dark hair. What’s he wearing?’

‘A cream flowery-patterned shirt and brown flared trousers.’

Fashion had changed immensely since the sixties when drainpipe trousers and button-collared shirts had been all the rage for young men. The Mod era had also now come to an end and the hippy look had taken over as the new trend. Spotting the guy who Rhonda had referred to, Nancy screwed her face up. ‘Nah. His nose is too big for his face, Rhon. You know I have a thing about little button noses.’

Hearing the current song by Middle of the Road being blasted out of the speakers on a nearby ride, both girls linked arms. Giggling, because they were aware that the group of boys were now watching them, Nancy and Rhonda began wiggling their hips and singing the words to ‘Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep’.

Vinny and Queenie Butler smiled proudly at one another as Little Vinny put on his boxing gloves and started to spar with his Uncle Roy. Roy was kneeling on the carpet and when his nephew caught him on the chin, Roy fell backwards to pretend he had been knocked out cold.

‘He’s a real natural, ain’t he, Mum? I knew he would be,’ Vinny gushed.

‘He’s a little bruiser. A proper Butler boy, just like his daddy was at his age,’ Queenie chuckled.

Buying his son off Karen had been one of the best decisions that Vinny had ever made. It had cost him three grand, but had been worth every penny. Being a stripper, Karen wouldn’t exactly have been his first choice of woman to bear his child, but she was a stunning bird, and with his own dark smouldering looks, his son was always destined to be a handsome kid.