The Bricks That Built the Houses by Kate Tempest Read Free Book Online

different.’
    ‘Like you got two lives. And which one’s real? Which one’s actually the life that you’re living?’ Harry’s voice is rising, her eyes wide. Becky stares at her, not smiling, more peering into her face. Listening. ‘It does my head in sometimes. You know what I mean?’ Becky reaches out a definite hand and touches Harry’s earlobe. She holds it, strokes it a couple of times, then takes her hand away just as abruptly, her attention caught by a man dressed in tight white denim who tiptoes past them clutching a mannequin to his chest; the mannequin has unblinking blue eyes painted onto it and it stares at them as it’s carried past.
    The music is loud, there are more people at the bar now and it’s pushing them closer; behind them Marshall Law is throwing his head back, screaming.
    ‘Darling!! If you’ve never fingered a schoolgirl at a train station you’ve never lived. Honestly. Their little lips, their little hot tongues. It’s like they think you were born to please them. Little minxes. It’s outrageous, darling, it really is, but I mean it, that’s the next big thing, it is! Real schoolgirls, real train stations. Sixteen, of course. Picture it: rural, deserted train stations. Mud on her knees. Honestly, darling, so sensual, isn’t it? Just thinking of it.’
    Harry feels all yanged up. She’s rushing, her throat’s hard, she can’t breathe fast enough. Inside her brain is hot and tense. It’s been a while since she’s gone near the stuff, and she can’t work out quite how she managed to say so much to this woman. Her mind begins to glitch, the last bump wearing off, the shine dulling and the party revealed in all its boredom. She jerks her head round as two women come bustling through the crowd. Harry thinks they’re going to walk past, but they stop right beside them.
    ‘Becky! We’re bored,’ they sing out together. One is slight and giggly, straight shoulder-length hair, the same pale blonde as her skin. Her clothes are perfectly neat and tidy, she wears trousers that stop before her ankles and pastel-coloured Nike Air Max, the large hoops in her ears shine the same shine as her tooth enamel under the bright lights. Her companion is softer-faced, fuller in her body, taller too. She moves with a swing in her strut, self-assured and haunting because of it. Tight black trousers and a baggy black T-shirt. Gold-and-black Adidas Superstars. Gold rings kiss each knuckle. A gold cannabis leaf hangs on a chain around her neck and her ears are studded with gold Wu-Tang W earrings. Harry can feel them making their appraisal of her and she shrinks before their femininity and evident close friendship.
    She touches the scar on her forehead, two small lines that cross and make a diamond on the left up by her hairline, from a swung bat when she was twelve. It tells her to stayfocused, while all around her the bellowing pillow-soft faces smudge and shriek and wobble.
    The smaller of the two is Charlotte, the deeper is Gloria. They seem to appear out of nowhere and they swing their arms around Becky’s shoulders and talk at the same time. Charlotte is brimming with the kind of confidence that shy people get when they’re drunk.
    ‘This is shit now,’ she says. ‘Let’s go?’
    Gloria joins in. ‘Yeah, I think it’s time. Can we go?’
    Becky turns from Harry and faces them, grinning warmly. ‘Hi! Yeah, we can go. You two alright?’
    ‘Yeah.’ Charlotte leans towards Becky, delivers her words like a bird pecking crumbs off the floor. ‘I’m well pissed and all these men are gay anyway. Or psychopaths. So . . .’
    Gloria looks at Harry, sees her standing there, mournful with shyness, reeling from all her confessions.
    ‘Hi,’ Gloria says. Looking down at her.
    ‘Alright?’ Harry smiles at the two women, mouth dry.
    ‘It was good to meet you.’ Becky talks right into her face, eyes shining, with Charlotte hanging from her side.
    Harry nods her agreement. Becky leans in and