The Girl by the Thames Read Online Free Page B

to the keyhole, but she’d seen that too many times on TV, the person always got discovered. It wouldn’t look cool. So she just sat there on the worktop feeling strange. Her best friend had been selected to join a gang and she hadn’t. She didn’t know whether to be happy or sad.
    Joining a gang might make you cool or it might get you killed. She tried hard to make herself feel like it was the latter, and that she was better off where she was. Perhaps this was a lucky escape. But no matter how hard she tried she still felt like a reject.
    A few guys nudged passed her, giving her the usual corny lines like “cheer up” and “might never happen.” At least she managed to bum a drink off one of them. It was an oversized beer bottle, Becks or something like that. The liquid was warm and felt like sickly treacle. She hated warm beer, but she drank it anyway.
    By the time she’d sucked the last drops out of the bottle her head was lolling around like a puppet’s. She turned over on her front and eased herself off of the worktop. Then she took herself off to a dark corner like an old dog and squatted down with her back against the wall. A second later she passed out.
 

Chapter 3
    Tanya came back to the real world when she felt someone trying to unpick the buttons on her jeans. She sobered up fast.
    “Get the fuck off me,” she shouted. Her eyes were blurred by the alcohol and took
a while to focus. She made out the snakey shape of Tyrone who leapt off her like he’d been electrocuted.
    “Sorry, sorry,” he said desperately. “I was just seeing if you were all right.”
    “What, by taking my jeans off, you bloody perv.” Tanya stood up too quickly and
nearly fell straight back down again. Her head felt like it was full of porridge. Steadying herself, she gave it another go. Tyrone supported her by the arm. The second she was upright, she punched him as hard as she could. Tanya tried to follow it up with another but she moved in slow motion. Tyrone backed off clutching his bruised forearm.
    “Sorry,” he said. “I’m really sorry.” The he turned and dashed out the door.
    “Fucking creep!” Tanya shouted after him, the effort made her nearly fall back down again. She wanted to chase after him and make him pay but the chemical reactions in her body conspired against her. The alcohol that had been her best friend only a few hours ago was now her worst enemy. Every movement was agony. It was like having a million worms in her stomach and raw sewage in her blood. The room was a spin dryer going a thousand miles an hour and she could smell the stench of every fag butt and piss stain on the carpet.
    Tanya shuffled delicately towards the door and out into the corridor. She got her bearings and made for the front door, scuffing her shoulder along the wall as she went. She had to find Lena. But the front room where she’d seen her last was now empty, apart from a few dozing spliff heads. The music still thumped away. It felt like her head was an anvil being pounded by a demented blacksmith. She had to get out. She made it to the front door and tried to open it but her fingers wouldn’t work. It was like they belonged to someone else. And she couldn’t figure out how to open the door. Was it locked or was she so pissed that it made this simple task too difficult? The harder she tried, the more frustrated she became. Her insides would explode if she didn’t leave immediately. She craved fresh air, if she could just get out it would be all right.
    Tanya dragged herself back into the front room, nearly tripping over the passed-out bodies. Over by the widow lay a mangled metal chair on its side. She managed to pick it up and hurl it at the window. It simply bounced off and landed at her feet. This time she held it up to her chest like a shield with the legs pointing out and half ran, half fell through the window. It broke, sending splintered glass everywhere, but she was too drunk to notice. The sudden rush of