‘You do Furious and Mrs Wilkinson, I’ve read about you in the Racing Post. Even my grandfather wants to poach you.’
‘Me?’ squeaked Tommy.
Tommy couldn’t believe anyone, despite squinting slightly, could be so good-looking.
‘Furious was awesome for a change,’ said Eddie dismissively. ‘My grandpop would soon get rid of those mulish antics.’
‘It’s part of Furious’s character, he had a deprived childhood.’ As Tommy raised her glass to drink, her trumpet sleeve fell back to reveal a huge bruise.
‘Jesus, your boyfriend do that?’
‘No, Furious, he gets excited. I haven’t got a boyfriend.’
‘You have now,’ said Eddie. ‘Come and dance.’
‘Oh look, Eddie’s got her on the floor,’ screamed Michelle.
‘Can’t dance,’ said Tresa, as Tommy bounced around like a bull terrier puppy.
‘Doesn’t get much practice,’ sneered Michelle.
Jamie Catswood was looking at his stopwatch. ‘He’s going super,’ he told the others.
As Eddie drew Tommy against him, Tommy could feel the solid muscle beneath his blue denim shirt. As he laid his cheek against hers, he made a thumbs-up sign behind her head to the giggling table, followed by a drinking sign to tell them to fill up his and Tommy’s glasses.
The Black Eyed Peas were electrifying the dancers.
‘I’ve got a feeling tonight’s going to be a good night,’ whispered Eddie into a bemused Tommy’s ear.
They were all convulsed with laughter when a shadow fell across the table. It was Rafiq. He was wearing, courtesy of Hello!, tight black jeans and a shirt the clear scarlet of runner bean flowers. His hair, newly cut and styled for the Channel 4 interview, was spiked upwards with product, showing off the flawless cheekbones and forehead usually hidden by flopping black curls. He looked arrogant and antagonistic – not quite the ideal role model for young Muslims – as he scowled across at Vakil.
‘Here’s the “Shere” Khan of Hello!,’ mocked Josh.
‘Rafiq, Rafiq. Great win!’ called out Tresa. ‘Come and join our game.’
‘What game?’ said Rafiq.
‘It’s called Snog-a-Trog,’ brayed Jamie Catswood, with whom Rafiq had already had spats about the British Army’s presence in Afghanistan.
‘Snog-a-Trog,’ shouted Michelle over the din. ‘You each pick the ugliest person in the room and then have a competition to see how quickly you can snog them. Johnnie’s about to get a black eye from Lotto Briggs and Michelle goofed with a geek. It’s your turn next, Vakil.’
‘And Eddie’s chosen Tommy,’ said Tresa bitchily. ‘He’s doing good.’
‘He what?’ It was like a rifle shot. Rafiq swung round. There was Tommy, laughing and bouncing around on the dance floor.
‘Eddie’s got a dog on his telephone already,’ giggled Jamie.
‘Black Lab – another dog won’t make any difference.’
‘Take that back,’ hissed Rafiq, seizing Jamie’s arm and raising his fist. ‘Take it back.’
‘All right, mate, calm down,’ said Jamie, looking rather frightened. ‘I was only pulling your leg.’
‘What you mean “pull my leg”? You think I’m gay?’
‘It’s a figure of speech, dickhead,’ said Josh. ‘Means taking the piss. For God’s sake, cool it, Rafiq. Get him a drink, someone.’
Eddie’s hand had moved downwards. Tommy had a big butt for sure, but as she smiled up in wonder, he noticed she had very pretty white, even teeth for a Brit and a sweet pink mouth and such sweet breath it would be no hardship to kiss her.
But as he bent his head, a vice gripped the shoulder he’d dislocated last year and he howled in pain, as he was pulled off Tommy and punched in his own perfect American teeth, a blow which threw him across the room.
‘Leave her alone, you bastard.’
‘Rafiq,’ stammered Tommy, ‘whatever’s the matter? Eddie only asked me to dance and bought me a drink, he was being so lovely.’
‘Lovely, my arse,’ snarled Rafiq, grabbing her bruised arm so she too shrieked in pain. ‘We’re going home.’
‘He knew all about Furious.’
By this time Jamie and Josh had jumped down from the platform and closed round him, Jamie picking up Eddie and restraining him as he tried to take a pot at Rafiq.
‘Cool it,’ snapped Josh, ‘you don’t want to get stood down before Cheltenham.’
‘Get out of here,’ Rafiq snarled at Tommy, then as she reluctantly moved towards the door, ‘go on, quickly. Wilkie’s cast herself.’
The moment she’d gone, he turned on Josh and a swaying about-to-lunge Eddie.
‘I’m not having her humiliated,’ he spat. ‘If any one of you bastards breathes a word about snogging trogs, I keel you, I keel you.’ Such was his mad dog frenzy, even Eddie backed off.