Back Mix Tape
Chapters (37)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. MIX TAPE
  4. Dedication
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. Song Credits
  36. Acknowledgements
  37. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

He rolled his eyes. ‘I know who they’re bloody playing,’ he said. ‘Toddy’s talked about nowt else all week.’

‘He’ll be there then?’ She hadn’t met Toddy, but liked the sound of him. He was Peter’s slinger, he loaded the crane with steel for Peter to shift, and they shared their snap and talked about films, which was the sort of topic that would normally earn a man a reputation for being soft, so Peter and Toddy kept themselves to themselves. ‘What’s he look like?’ Alison said. ‘I’ll say hello.’

‘Very funny,’ Peter said.

‘Daniel says there’ll be twenty thousand fans on the Kop.’

Peter grunted. ‘You be careful. They’re a rough lot.’

‘He said not to wear my red coat.’

Peter laughed. ‘You’d be lynched on the Kop.’

‘Can I wear your donkey jacket?’

‘Aye, if you promise not to come home an Owls fan.’

‘Promise,’ she said.

‘It’s a good idea that anyway, Alison, nobody messes with a lass in a donkey jacket. You’ll need it today, chuffing freezing.’

She nodded and then said, ‘You got anything on today?’

He shook his head. ‘I’ll see what state she’s in when she crawls out of bed.’

‘Yeah,’ Alison said. ‘I’ll do next Saturday, Pete.’ This was the second weekend in a row that Peter had been on Catherine duty: assessing her suitability to be left at home alone before making any plans for himself. Meanwhile Superman was showing at the Gaumont. That was what he’d do, if he could get away later.

Alison met Daniel at Pond Street in the city centre, at the number 53 stop, and she was startled at the crush of supporters waiting for the bus. Hard to find him in the crowds, and everyone had blue and white hats on, and blue and white scarves, so they all looked the same. He spotted her first, swamped in her brother’s jacket, the collar turned up like a frame for her lovely face, which was pink with the cold.

‘Here,’ he said, and wrapped his own scarf twice round her throat. ‘Now you’re one of us.’

‘Don’t say that to our Peter,’ she said. ‘I’ve had to promise not to turn. All these people! They’ll never get on the bus.’

‘Just as long as we do, that’s the main thing.’