Charlie eased back in his seat, king of all he surveyed. He stared at her. ‘Don’t I know you?’

That threw her. She knew him, everybody did; but she had never supposed that he had noticed her.

Nula shrugged. ‘Probably from the dance hall. I’m Nula . . .’

Charlie’s face split in a grin. He slapped the desk hard and pointed a finger bristling with gold rings straight at her. Nula jumped. ‘The little fat bird!’ he burst out. ‘Jimmy Perkins’s sister.’

Nula cringed. That was her. The little grey fat bird. Unnoticeable. Forever fading into the background. Not worthy of anyone’s attention.

‘Yeah,’ she said, feeling a hot blush of shame colouring her cheeks. ‘That’s me.’

‘So you want to borrow?’

‘Yeah. I do.’ But now it all seemed like madness.

‘OK.’ Charlie whipped a notebook and pencil out of the drawer, put it down on the desk and looked at her expectantly. ‘How much?’

Just like that?

Nula couldn’t believe it. After the bank, this seemed like child’s play. But this bloke, who could grin at her and look friendly one moment, then look downright threatening the next, this bloke she knew from schooldays – him and Terry had been two years above her – squat little Charlie Stone, was a loan shark.

‘Um . . . a thousand?’ she ventured.

Charlie’s mouth dropped open. ‘How much?’

‘A thousand,’ mumbled Nula. ‘If I can pay it back over – say – two years? Would that be OK?’

‘Yeah, but the interest,’ said Charlie, staring at her. ‘What you want a sum like that for then, girl? That’s a lot of brass.’

‘It’s for something personal,’ said Nula, her lips in a thin line. She wasn’t going to tell him about that. What, give them all something more to laugh at her about? At Nula, the little fat girl with the big conk?

Charlie was still watching her face. Then he nodded. ‘All right then,’ he said, and started to explain about the interest rates while Nula sat there, amazed, not listening to a word.

As easy as that!

She was going to get the money she needed.

It was going to be done.

She nearly floated out of the door when their business was concluded. Then Jill, still out in the hall with Terry, said: ‘Hey – you’re Nula, aintcha?’

And her balloon was popped. ‘Yeah,’ she said, deflated.

‘Gawd, you’ve dropped a bit of timber aintcha, girl?’

Nula didn’t answer, she just shoved past her to the front door, and out.

13

Charlie was ambitious, wanting to make the next move, wanting to be respected.

‘You got that,’ Terry told him. ‘Everyone around here respects you.’