Donny released her arm. He stepped back a pace, seemed to gather himself. Half-smiled at her.

‘Sorry, did I scare you?’

He had scared her. Her arm was stinging, he’d gripped it so hard. Her heart was beating fast.

Donny moved closer again, lowered his voice. ‘You’re a lovely girl, Angel.’ His eyes swept down her body and then up. ‘You got a good figure, like your mother had back in the day. Better, really. Your waist is smaller. And your tits are bigger.’

Angel was struck dumb. Time seemed to freeze. He was close to her now. Then he reached out and – shockingly – cupped her breast in his hand. Angel started with shock to draw back, but she didn’t. She almost moaned. He kept his hand there, his fingers exploring through the fabric of her blouse and the barrier of her bra, moving smoothly, caressingly, over her nipple, which was suddenly erect.

‘You got beautiful tits,’ he said softly.

Then Dora groaned on the couch, and started to stir, her eyes flickering open. Donny’s hand dropped away. Terrified, Angel straightened and went through to the kitchen to put the kettle on or do something, because she felt shocked, outraged – and she didn’t want Dora to see it.

87

Tommy was outside the cake shop waiting for her the following week.

‘Oh – hi,’ said Angel, surprised, and they strolled off toward the Tube. ‘Didn’t expect to see you.’

‘You looked like you were miles away when you came out that door,’ he said.

Angel said nothing. Tonight was the ‘do’ Donny had told her about last week, and she was distracted, had been all day, giving customers the wrong change, the wrong cakes, generally ballsing up everything she touched, much to the annoyance of the manageress. She was fizzing with excitement, nerves, apprehension and guilt. She hadn’t told Dora she was going out with Donny tonight. And she didn’t think Donny had told Dora about it, either.

‘Seems a bit of a waste, you working in there,’ said Tommy.

‘I don’t mind it.’

‘You could do better.’

‘What, like you?’

‘Don’t knock it. I’m doing all right. That’s why I came by. One of the bar staff’s taken off somewhere. After I spoke to you last week, I asked the owner if he wanted you to come in for an interview. You remember Lenny Axelford?’

Angel shook her head.

‘Yeah, you do. Flash bloke in a red sports car, used to come to the school gates sometimes.’

‘Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I do.’

‘Well he said yes. So if you’re interested . . .’

Angel stopped walking. She wouldn’t be exactly broken-hearted to leave the cake shop. ‘What’s the pay like?’ she asked.

‘Pretty good. Better than you get doling out vanilla slices, I bet. And there’s tips. Angel, you will get a lot of tips.’

Angel eyed him steadily. ‘What would you do a thing like that for? Why would you bother about me? Your whole family’s never given a stuff about Mum or me. Why start now?’