In Loco Parentis Read Online Free

holding him back as if they’re doing us a favour.
    â€œBloody puff,” I see the little guy mouth. Little does he know.
    Carl doesn’t say anything. Just feels around his face to check out the damage.
    It’s not important that there’s no harm done.
    What matters is controlling the floor. Taking the centre of the ring.
    Col’s in. Bubble and Baz.
    Stan’s our secret weapon.  Always was. He’s swinging his arms like a helicopter. I arrive like the icing on the cake.
    Thirty seconds of bliss it is. I catch a Goth right on the jaw. He’s out as soon as it lands.
    Short-arse is already on the floor. I throw in a kick or two. See another pair of boots join in from the other side. We do it all in time to the music.
    â€œI wanna, wanna, wanna hold her tight.” We’re dancing again like nothing’s wrong, shouting at each other and bouncing up and down, big drunken grins plastered onto our faces.
    The bouncers come in, too late as always, and hard enough to take us all if they wanted.
    Lucky for us it’s still Kane who works the door. His big, black head shines with sweat and he looks disappointed to see that it’s all over. Then he sees us all. Smiles. His eyes look red like he’s had a couple of smokes. He walks off with a swagger and the crowd splits before him.
    I’m getting a real buzz. The other lads are just getting up. It’s probably time they went home for bed.
    I get the urge to go and tell them so. Wait to see what the next song is.
    See Jenny standing against the wall. Soon as she sees me looking, she turns her back and walks away.

blood, sweat and tears
    She couldn’t ignore me for long.
    It’s what families all about, taking care of each other.
    I think she had to drag me out in the end, though I didn’t offer much resistance.
    Town's mobbed. More packed than in my time. Smarter, too.
    I smell it in the air: lust, testosterone and adrenaline mix with the hair sprays and the gels and the beers. It’s a smell I love.
    Jenny holds my hand through it all. Keeps me talking and keeps me out of trouble, not that I have a problem with that.
    I need to talk. To keep my mouth moving. Soon as it stops, the dryness and the jaw clenching become intolerable.
    We wander past the shops, the station, the red-bricked splendour of County Hall, past the seedy hotels and the Mosque and eventually to the river, the giant snake that is the Ribble.
    Walking along it for a while, flanked by the water on one side and terraced housed on the other, we eventually reach Meath Road.
    Feel like I’m home for the first time since arriving.
    She opens the door and we end up in the lounge. I sit on the sofa, my head resting on the wall, legs sprawled over the end.
    There are lots of other seats in the room, but when she returns with the mugs of tea, she sits next to me, the cushions sinking and rising like a tide. I’d thought we might have managed to avoid it all, but now I see it’s going to surface if I don’t keep fending it away.
    At first it’s easy.
    â€œI’ll be in Reception Class next year.” The words tumble quickly out and I let them, keeping the spaces to a minimum. “Can’t wait. Not that I know how to teach them,” I say. “Haven’t a clue.”
    The tea’s hot. I can only take a sip. “Should be a doddle, though. There are only fifteen of them to start with. Don’t get the rest till after Christmas.”
    Jenny gets up to put on some sounds. She fiddles for a while, then sits back down.
    I don’t recognise what she’s put on. It’s trippy. Laid back. Brings back the warmth and the good feelings. I forget to talk and let the music surround me.
    She puts her hand on my knee. Taps out a beat to the tunes.
    Soon as I can, without making it too obvious, I stand up and take off the jacket.
    The elasticated sleeves are full of liquid. It looks like urine. I take a sniff. Stinks of