so high.’
‘Mummy’s vibrator’s battery-operated, so it can’t be that,’ said Caitlin. ‘Hullo, darling,’ she added, hugging Claudius.
‘He’s in disgrace,’ sighed Taggie. ‘He’s just eaten one of Mummy’s new slingbacks.’
‘Good thing; they were gross,’ said Caitlin. ‘Every Claud has a silver lining! Can you lend me fifty pounds to go to London?’
‘I haven’t got it,’ protested Taggie. ‘I’ve just lent Daddy a hundred pounds for a new pair of cords for Ireland.’
‘At least I’ll be gone for nearly a week, so you won’t have to feed me,’ cajoled Caitlin. ‘So that’s worth fifty.’
‘And we haven’t done your trunk yet,’ wailed Taggie. ‘You’ve grown out of everything, you need new Aertex shirts, and both your games’ skirts are split.’
‘Oh, sew them up,’ said Caitlin airily. ‘We can’t possibly afford new ones if we’re so poor.’
39
After a riotous five days in London, Caitlin rolled up at Paddington Station with just enough money for her half-fare home. Her blue-black hair was coaxed upward at the front into a corkscrew quiff. She was wearing peacock feather earrings, a black and white sleeveless T-shirt, a black Lycra mini which just covered her bottom, laddered black tights, huge black clumpy shoes, all of which belonged to various friends of hers, a great deal of black eye make-up, and messages in Biro all over her arms.
It was hardly surprising, therefore, that the man at the ticket desk refused to believe she was under sixteen. A most unseemly screaming match ensued, which first amused then irritated the growing queue of passengers behind Caitlin, who began to worry they might miss their trains home.
‘My father is a very very famous man,’ screamed Caitlin as a last resort, ‘and he’ll get you.’
‘Don’t threaten me, young lady,’ said the booking clerk.
‘It’s people like you who turn liberals like me into racists,’ screamed Caitlin even louder. ‘You’re just discriminating against me because I’m white. I’ll report you to the Race Relations Board.’
At that moment Archie Baddingham, on his way home from his three weeks’ banishment in Tuscany, reached the top of the neighbouring first-class queue. Hearing the din, and recognizing Caitlin’s shrill Irish accent from New Year’s Eve, he bought her a ticket.
‘Remember me?’ he said, tapping her on the shoulder.
‘No, yes,’ said Caitlin. ‘You’re Archie, aren’t you? Can you lend me my fare, this stupid asshole won’t believe I’m under sixteen.’
‘I’ve got you a ticket,’ said Archie.
‘I can’t accept a ticket from you,’ stormed Caitlin irrationally. ‘Your father’s been absolutely shitty to my father.’
‘My father’s shitty to everyone,’ said Archie, calmly taking her arm. ‘Come on, we’d better move it.’
They only just caught the train on time, but managed to find two single seats opposite each other.
‘I’ve never travelled first class,’ said Caitlin, stretching out on the orange seat and squirming her neck luxuriously against the headrest.
Archie looked wonderful, she thought. Like her, he’d shot up and lost weight. He was wearing black 501s, rolled up above black socks and black brogues with a black polo-neck tucked into a western belt with a silver buckle, black crosses in his ears, and a brown suede jacket. His blond hair, washed with soap to remove any shine, was long at the front and cut short at the back and sides. His still slightly rounded face looked thinner because of a suntan almost as dark as his eyes.
‘Why are you so disgustingly brown?’ asked Caitlin.
‘I’ve just spent three weeks in Tuscany. My parents booted me out there to get over a girl.’
‘Tracey-on-the-Makepiece.’
Archie grinned, making him look even more attractive. ‘How d’you know that?’
‘You were superglued to her at Patrick’s twenty-first.’
‘So I was. Actually, I’m over her, but Dad and Mum thought I wasn’t, so I thought I might as well take advantage of a free holiday. Have you been away?’
‘We never go anywhere. My parents are always broke. No, it’s quite OK. Nothing to do with your father. They’re just hopeless with money.’ There was a pause. Caitlin gazed out of the window, wondering what to say next.
‘What would you like to drink?’ asked Archie.
‘They got any Malibu?’
‘I doubt it.’
‘Well, vodka and tonic, then. Can I come with you?’
The InterCity, belting towards Bristol, swayed like a drunk as they walked towards the buffet car.
‘Have you had any lunch?’ asked Archie, admiring her narrow waist and slim legs which were more ladder than tights.
‘No,’ said Caitlin.
‘I’ll buy you some grub then,’ said Archie.
‘Been to a funeral?’ said the gay barman, running a lascivious eye over Archie’s black clothes.
‘
‘Keep your vice down,’ hissed Archie.
The journey back to their seat, with each of them carrying white plastic trays of vodkas and tonics, glasses, bacon sandwiches, Mars bars, and packets of crisps, was much more hazardous. They had no hands to steady themselves against the lurching train.
‘Terribly sorry,’ mumbled Caitlin, going scarlet, as for the third time she cannoned off a commuter back into Archie.
‘Who’s complaining?’ said Archie.
‘Thank you so much,’ said Caitlin as they sped past slow winding rivers, rolling fields, and clumps of yellowing trees. ‘This bacon sandwich is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.’
‘I’m surprised you can say that with Taggie cooking for you,’ said Archie. ‘Every time my father compliments my mother on the food, it turns out Taggie’s made it. How is she?’
‘Bit low. She’s hopelessly hooked on Rupert Campbell-Black.’
‘Won’t do her any good,’ said Archie, pouring out a second vodka and tonic for Caitlin. ‘He strikes women down like lightning bolts. Anyway, he’s bonking my father’s ex.’
‘Cameron Cook,’ said Caitlin dismissively. ‘She’s a crosspatch, isn’t she? I can’t see what men see in her. My brother was crazy about her, and now she’s gone off to make a film in Ireland with Daddy. I hope they don’t end up in bed. People usually do on location, don’t they? I’d loathe her as a stepmother.’
‘Dad was mad about her. I was shit-scared he’d leave Mum and marry her,’ said Archie, breaking a Mars bar and giving half to Caitlin. ‘I dread my parents getting a divorce, in case they marry again and leave all their money to their new children.’
Caitlin giggled. ‘Mine haven’t any to leave.’
‘I hear your mother’s joined the cast of
‘At least it’s got her off my back,’ said Caitlin. ‘She drives me crackers: “Where are you going? Who with? Why were you so long on the telephone? Who was that on the telephone? Was it a good party? Did you meet anyone nice?” Christ! Not that she’s interested.’
‘My mother over-reacts,’ said Archie. ‘She thinks the world will end if she finds a half-eaten tin of baked
