‘Right.’ Angel was unconvinced.

Tom took a bite out of his sandwich. ‘She’s your family, Angel,’ he reminded her. ‘Mum too. You meet them halfway, I promise you, they’ll be all over you like a rash.’

‘Listen,’ said Angel, taking a vicious bite out of hers, ‘I don’t want a fucking family. OK?’

Tom came home a few days later, and there Angel was, kicking off her shoes and rubbing her aching feet and moaning about yet another disastrous interview.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake,’ said Tom in exasperation. ‘Come down the club. Don’t be a div.’

‘It wouldn’t work.’

‘Have a month’s trial then. If it doesn’t, you can piss off and we’ll still be mates.’ He smiled. ‘I’m not the one who’s big on grudges, you are.’

‘How much you paying then?’

Tom grinned. ‘Oh, straight down to business. I like that. More than you’re worth, probably. You ever done any bar work?’

Angel shook her head.

‘Ah, you’ll pick it up in no time. All it boils down to is adding stuff up and fending off the punters.’

Angel chewed her lip and then said: ‘OK. I’ll give it a go.’

‘Good girl,’ said Tom.

Then there was the sound of a key in the front door, and Tom’s mother came in. Angel groaned. Tom stood up and went and hugged Lil. She smiled at him, then at Angel, sitting there on the sofa halfway through a bacon butty.

‘All right, Angel?’ she said.

‘Fine,’ said Angel, and coolly turned her attention to the television.

136

Bar work was easy. Adding up, pouring drinks, smiling – it was like being a hostess, and she had played that role as Lenny’s wife, entertaining his friends at their lavish home, always reserved and controlled but pleasant. She’d been the Empress to Lenny’s Emperor, before it had all come crashing down around her. But it had taught her valuable skills, and she was using them now.

‘You’re good at this,’ Tom said in surprise one night while The Communards stomped out of the club’s massive sound system.

‘I ought to be,’ said Angel, taking rum from the optic, adding Coke and then ice. ‘I’ve been doing it for yonks, all this.’

‘Any problems?’

‘None whatsoever.’ Angel took the rum and Coke over to the customer, took the cash and paid it into the till. She smiled around at the punters. ‘Who’s next please?’

Angel had work, she had a roof over her head, and – despite all her cracks about not wanting a family – she did have Tom, who was an utter bloody darling, even if she did have the two dreaded aunts as well, one of whom – June – was always abusive, which Angel just laughed off, and the other – Lil – who was always, even in the face of extreme provocation from her niece, unrelentingly nice.

‘Oh God – you again,’ Angel would say if she came in to find Lil there.

‘Yep, me again,’ Lil would cheerfully reply. ‘Like a cup of tea?’