Trilogy Collection. Julie Shaw

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СКАЧАТЬ and once to take him back again – it wasn’t till the following Monday evening that the opportunity to get Lyndsey on her own finally presented itself.

      It was tea-time and she was sitting in the lounge watching Crossroads, when she heard her mum call out something from the kitchen.

      ‘Did you want me, Mam?’ she called, and, when June didn’t answer, she got off the sofa and went in to see.

      June was at the sink, with her back to her, scrubbing away at the collar on Jock’s one good white shirt. ‘Did you call me, Mam?’ Josie asked again.

      June turned around, bar of Palmolive soap in hand, clearly surprised to see her standing there. ‘What? Oh – oh, no, love. I was just shouting at that gormless pillock out there.’ She nodded her head in the direction of the back yard.

      ‘What gormless pillock?’ Josie asked, joining her at the window and peering out. There was nothing and no one out there as far as she could see.

      ‘The gormless pillock who lives with your stupid sister,’ June told her. ‘He’s gone now. I just clocked him scampering over the backs like a bleeding ten-year-old. Pound to a penny he’ll be on the trot for some drugs or that bloody wacky baccy. Idiot …’

      She turned back to the sink.

      ‘What d’you want him for?’ Josie asked, realising she might have found her moment.

      ‘Want him for? Nothing! Just wanted to let him know I’d seen him. He’s good for nothing, that one, and shifty with it.’ She turned around again. ‘Anyway, why’d you want to know?’

      ‘Oh, nothing. I just thought I’d pop up to our Lyndsey’s and see the kids while he’s out, that’s all.’

      Her mother lifted her carefully painted brows and observed her. ‘What, now, you mean? In the middle of your precious Crossroads?’

      Josie felt a guilty blush start. She didn’t miss a thing, her mam, that was for sure. ‘Yes,’ she said, trying to think on her feet. ‘I promised Robbie yesterday. He’s been doing me a painting and I told him I’d go round and pick it up. You know, and have a play, and that.’

      ‘What about your tea?’ June wanted to know. ‘I’m dishing up soon as I’ve done this. I thought taties, mince and cabbage was your favourite?’

      ‘It is, Mam,’ Josie said, once again feeling guilty, ‘but I won’t be long. Just leave mine in the oven, it’ll stay warm enough for me.’

      ‘Well, okay,’ said June. ‘But me and your dad are off up to the Bull for a couple as soon as he’s out of the bath and we’ve eaten, so we won’t be in when you get back. Don’t forget your tea, mind, or you’ll be getting it dished up tomorrow, okay?’

      Josie grabbed her jacket from the back of the couch and slung it over her shoulder. ‘I won’t, Mam!’ she promised as she slammed the front door.

      Josie ran the length of the few houses with her eyes fixed ahead of her, the horrible memories she’d worked so hard to bury over the years now fresh and sharp and ugly in her head. Bastard. Bastard. He was not going to get away with it again.

      She went in via the front door to find her sister in the living room, sitting on the couch smoking, as per usual. She had Crossroads on too, though Josie could see she wasn’t really watching it. Just staring in the general direction of the telly. What was she thinking? What the fuck did drugs do to the contents of a person’s head?

      The girls were on the floor playing with an old catalogue and some pencils. But there was no sign of her nephew.

      ‘Hi Lynds,’ she said. ‘Where’s Robbie?’

      ‘Auntie Titch!’ the girls cried, pleased as usual to have someone round who might actually play with them. ‘Auntie Titch!’

      Her sister looked up at her. And she didn’t look that stoned, thank goodness. Just tired. Which perhaps anyone would be with three nippers running around.

      ‘Off round at some kid’s from school,’ Lyndsey said, then looked at Josie more carefully. ‘You alright, mate?’ she asked. ‘You look like shit.’

      ‘Oh, Lynds,’ she said, glancing at her nieces, who were now headed towards her, arms outstretched. ‘I’ve got something I have to tell you. Something bad.’

      ‘Bad? In what way bad?’ Lyndsey asked, as Josie dropped down to give the girls a cuddle. ‘Upstairs, you two,’ she told them. ‘Go and play in your bedroom. Your Auntie Titch and I have things we’ve got to talk about. Go on – scoot.’

      She scooped a couple of magazines onto the floor to clear a space, than patted the space next to her on the sofa she’d created. Josie duly sat down.

      ‘It’s Mucky Melvin,’ she began.

      ‘That old fucker?’ Lyndsey said mildly. ‘What about him?’

      Josie swallowed. Where did she start? But almost as soon as she opened her mouth to answer, she found she didn’t need to think – it was as if her brain had long ago written the script, ready for the telling. She told Lyndsey everything, even though she hadn’t meant to. She was only going to tell about him grabbing her the previous Friday; about him pulling her into the alley, about losing the record, about telling Caz and what she’d said about Lyndsey being the one who’d know what to do. But once she started, it was as if she had no control over her own mouth. It seemed to come out like a torrent, with a mind of its own, and before she knew it she was telling Lyndsey how he’d lured her into his house with the promise of a ciggie, how he’d made her go upstairs to give him them and have a fag and then overpowered her, how he’d ripped down her pants and how he’d forced himself inside her – and all the while Lyndsey, probably a bit stoned because she generally was, sat and listened, her eyes widening to saucers as she drew on a tiny roll-up.

      ‘The filthy old cunt!’ she said finally, batting smoke from in front of her. At least it wasn’t that horrible sweet wacky baccy smoke, Josie thought. And at least she didn’t seem that stoned. Not yet. Her hands were shaking again, she realised, and she balled them into little fists. Would they shake every time she thought about it, always?

      ‘So you’re saying he raped you?’ Lyndsey went on. ‘That fucking pervert! You really mean that? That he stuck his fucking prick in you three years back?’

      Josie nodded miserably. ‘It was just after our Vinnie left. Right after.’

      Jesus!’ said Lyndsey. ‘That makes you – what – 11? God, that’s disgusting that is. Jesus! No, no – it’s more ’n that, actually. It’s child abuse, Titch. That’s what that is. That’s molesting you! Jesus!’ she said again, stabbing the end of the fag into the overflowing glass ashtray on the sofa arm. ‘Why the fuck did you never tell anyone about this?’

      ‘Because I couldn’t,’ Josie said plaintively. ‘Mam would’ve killed me!’

      ‘She fucking would, Titch – what were you thinking even going in there? How many times have you been told? Were you mad?’

      ‘Exactly! I just … I just …’

      Just СКАЧАТЬ