‘Next time, don’t try fuckin’ fighting me!’ said Patterson.
He led Peter back to his cell where his fellow inmate was still awake.
‘Haha, are you Patterson’s new bum boy?’ he laughed.
Peter had felt his humiliation intensify. He was too upset to even argue so he got quietly into bed. Not wanting to encourage more ridicule from his cellmate, Peter buried his face in his pillow to stifle his sobs. He continued sobbing until the early hours.
*
Joyce was having a bad day. Over the past few months the pains in her stomach had become progressively worse. She hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, which was half a piece of toast swallowed down with a cup of tea. She’d had two more cups of tea since then but each one had been a struggle to make. When she stood up, the pains seemed even more intense.
The doctor had given her stronger painkillers to keep her going while they waited for the outcome of the tests she’d had at the hospital. But even the strong painkillers didn’t seem to be working anymore. She knew deep down that this was something serious. She had her suspicions but she daren’t voice them to Shirley. Her daughter struggled to get through the day as it was. But Joyce was beyond helping her. Now all she wanted was for the pain to stop.
Joyce had just woken up from a nap in the chair and taken two more of her tablets. She needed to go to the loo but dreaded getting up knowing the pains would grip her as soon as she got out of her chair. So she gave it ten minutes for the painkillers to take effect. Then, deciding she couldn’t wait any longer, she struggled to stand up.
As Joyce shuffled across the room, the pain became unbearable. She grasped her stomach and doubled over as intense wave after wave of red-hot torture pierced her insides. It wasn’t easing and she needed the loo desperately. Joyce straightened up and took a deep breath, trying to stay in control.
By now her legs had become weak and she felt light-headed. As she tried to put a step forward, her legs gave way beneath her. Joyce tumbled to the floor. She knew she wouldn’t make it to the bathroom and she couldn’t wait any longer. So she relieved herself where she lay.
When the throbbing eased a little she tried to stand. But as she got to her knees a crippling pain seared through her and she passed out.
Joyce was out for a few minutes. When she came to, she noticed the dampness and the constant ache in her stomach. This time there was no point trying to get up. Instead, she dragged herself along the floor, taking a while to reach the wall separating her home from that of Mabel Boyson.
Joyce grabbed a book from the bottom shelf of the bookcase and used it to bang on the wall as hard as she could. ‘Mabel!’ she shouted, at the top of her voice. ‘Help me!’ Then another excruciating wave of pain came over her and Joyce passed out again.
Chapter 26
‘Do you want to go for something to eat in that pub?’ Adele asked her mother, out of earshot of the woman with the unruly kids. She hoped that by going to the pub they could shake them off.
‘Ooh yeah. That sounds like a good idea,’ said Shirley. ‘I could do with a bloody drink before we get on that coach again. My nerves are shot and I’ve got no more tablets with me.’
Adele was about to heave a sigh of relief when her mother called out to her new friend, ‘Do you hear that, Bev? We’re going for a drink and something to eat in that pub near the coach stop. Do you fancy it?’
‘Sounds good to me,’ said Bev whose children were growing excited at the prospect of eating out.
Sounds bad to me, thought Adele but she kept her thoughts to herself. Adele followed her mother and Bev into the pub and listened to their chatter.
‘How’s your Peter finding it?’ asked Bev.
‘All right, you know.’
‘Our Mark says the food’s better than school dinners.’
‘Yeah, Peter likes it too. Maybe he’s not so badly off in there.’
‘Nah, Mark seems to cope all right,’ said Bev. ‘It’s his second time.’
‘Is it?’ asked Shirley.
‘Yeah.’ Bev sniffed before continuing. ‘I hoped he’d learnt his lesson last time, but still, it’s one less mouth to feed, I suppose. Bloody awful trip though.’
‘You can say that again.’
Adele couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Bev’s son was locked up for God knows what, and all she was bothered about was having one less mouth to feed. She was also annoyed at her mother who seemed to accept that this was Peter’s lot in life. Why wasn’t she more concerned about the path he was taking? Unwilling to listen to any more of their chatter, Adele left them at the bar and found a table.
While Adele was sitting at the table, she looked around her. There wasn’t one friendly face in the place. The hostility was coming in droves as they stared down at their meals, tutted and whispered among themselves. The locals seemed to resent outsiders. But then Adele realised that it was probably because they’d come from the detention centre and she felt herself blush with shame.
Adele couldn’t wait to get out of the place although she wasn’t looking forward to the journey. Bev’s kids had behaved badly enough in the pub so she dreaded to think what they would be like cooped up on a coach for almost two hours.
She was correct in her assumptions. The children sat behind her throughout the journey and entertained themselves by pulling Adele’s hair and kicking her seat. Shirley and Bev, who were half-cut from their trip to the pub, ignored their antics despite Adele turning round several times and giving them a stern look.
By the time they arrived in Manchester, Adele was seething. As they got off the coach she ignored Bev who went off in another direction with her kids, saying she had some errands to do.
‘That wasn’t very nice, Adele,’ said Shirley as they made their way to the bus stop in Piccadilly.
‘Didn’t you see what they were doing?’ Adele demanded. ‘They didn’t stop kicking my seat and pulling my hair. And every time I turned round they just sat there laughing at me.’
‘They’re only kids,’ said Shirley. ‘They don’t mean any harm.’
‘I don’t care. She should have stopped them!’
Shirley didn’t reply. The alcohol was now wearing off and she didn’t have any fight in her. They remained silent as they caught the bus home. By the time they had finished their bus journey, and made the short walk from the bus stop to the house, Adele had calmed down.
Shirley, on the other hand, appeared anxious now that she was sobering up. Adele noticed how her mother seemed to be in a rush to get home and she guessed it was because she wanted to take one of her tablets. They turned into their street and, as they approached home, they noticed a police car parked outside.
‘Jesus!’ said Shirley. ‘What the bloody hell’s Tommy been up to now? As if I haven’t got enough worry with our Peter.’
Adele could feel her heart plummet. She hoped her father hadn’t been fighting again. The day had been stressful enough as it was. They rushed to their house, anxious to find out what was happening. Adele hoped desperately that it wasn’t bad news.
Shirley nodded towards the police car, ‘Knock on the window and ask what they want while I get inside the house, Adele,’ she said.
She did as her mother asked and the policeman rolled down the window. ‘You must be Miss Robinson,’ he said.
‘Yes, I am.’
He nodded at Shirley’s back, ‘Is that your mother?’
‘Yes.’
‘Mind if we come inside? We need to have a word with your mother.’
‘N-no,’ said Adele, becoming anxious.
The two policemen followed Adele indoors. As she stepped into the living room, her mother quickly put the cap back on her bottle of pills and put it away. There was no sign of Adele’s father and she dreaded what was coming next.
‘They want a word with you, Mam,’ said Adele, her heart pounding.
Shirley stared at the two policemen, an expression of horror on her face.
‘Mind if we si
t down?’ asked the first policeman.
‘No, go on,’ said Shirley, pointing her hand towards the sofa.
‘You may want to sit down too.’
Adele shared her mother’s horror. Her pulse rate increased and she swallowed nervously. She sat on the arm of her mother’s seat, anticipating that, whatever the news was, Shirley would need her support.
‘Are you the daughter of Mrs Joyce Majors?’ asked the officer.
No! Not grandma, no. Please no! Adele’s brain screamed, but she sat silently waiting for the words.
‘I’m afraid…’
Before he could finish, Shirley let out a piercing shriek. ‘No!’ Then she began babbling, ‘Not Mam. Oh my God! Please say she’s all right.’
‘Shhh,’ said Adele, placing her hand on her mother’s shoulder.
Even the policeman seemed to tense and his voice shook as he uttered the words, ‘I, I’m afraid I have to report your mother’s death. She died at home earlier today.’
Adele could feel her own tears flood her eyes but her first concern was for her mother. Shirley had buried her head in her lap, covering her eyes with her hands, which were trembling and causing her head to shudder from side to side. She let out an agonising yelp followed by uncontrolled sobbing. Adele patted her on the back as her own tears flowed. Through misty eyes she saw the two officers shuffle uneasily in their seats, their discomfort evident.
‘Perhaps there’s something we can do to help?’ asked the second officer. ‘A hot drink perhaps? Or is there a neighbour who could call round?’
Shirley was incapable of responding. Her loud sobbing continued. She was working herself up into a frenzy and Adele felt helpless. She didn’t know what to do. At seventeen she felt lost; the burden of responsibility overwhelming her. She just wanted the police officers gone. It was a private moment. And they were strangers. She didn’t want them to witness their heartbreak.
Adele nodded her head just to get rid of them and watched them slip out through the door. Within minutes a procession of neighbours crowded the house. Adele guessed they must have already been aware of imminent bad news when they saw the police car. And then they heard her mother’s screams.
They rushed about the house, each trying to offer help and comfort in any way she could. Two of them were trying to calm Adele’s mother down. Another had dashed through to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Their concerns were for their friend and neighbour.
Adele cried silent tears as she watched the scene unfold before her.
Nobody seemed to notice her tears, but she didn’t want them to. She needed to be alone. She needed to release all the sorrow of the day. So she went to her room, flung herself on her bed and sobbed desperately for the woman who had meant everything to her.
It was Adele’s first experience of losing someone close, and it would stay with her for the rest of her life.
Chapter 27
It was a few weeks later. The neighbours had helped to organise the funeral. Shirley had been incapable of organising anything and Tommy didn’t want to get involved so Adele let them get on with it. They seemed to know what to do whereas Adele didn’t have a clue. Aside from that, she was still trying to come to terms with her own grief.
The house was quiet. Shirley had gone to visit one of the neighbours and Tommy was out. As Adele tried to focus on her homework the silence engulfed her and she found her mind wandering. Why did it have to happen to her grandma? She was only fifty-nine. It was too young! She should have had many more years with her. Instead she’d been snatched away. It wasn’t fair!
Apart from being overwhelmed with sorrow, Adele felt guilt and regret. Was there more she could have done? Could she have visited her grandma more instead of being selfish and focusing on her own life? Her grandma had needed her. She could have found the time to visit more if she’d really tried.
Her eyes flooded with tears of despair. A teardrop slid off her cheek and landed on her exercise book, smudging the sentence she had just written. But she didn’t care; she just wanted her grandma back. To hell with school! To hell with everything!
Her grandma had always been there for her and now there was nobody to offer support. Peter was still inside and visits to him only made her feel worse. He was paler each time they went and Adele was convinced there was something he wasn’t telling her. But she daren’t ask. She didn’t know if she could handle it at the moment.
She put her pen down and looked up from her exercise book, gazing around the shabby room. It was depressing! Stained carpet. Scratched, out-of-date furniture layered with dust. Broken ornaments covered in grime. Light bulbs dotted with fly faeces. And the stench! The all-pervading stench that was always there.
Since Grandma Joyce had passed away, her mother’s illness had become even worse. Shirley was now taking so many tablets that she didn’t rise from bed till lunchtime. And when she got out of bed she moved around slowly in a zombified, drugged-up state. Any energy she had was usually spent visiting the neighbours to enlist their support as she didn’t get any from their father.
The only housework or cooking that was done was carried out by Adele. But with the pressure of her studies, she struggled to keep up. It was all too much to handle. As the negative thoughts invaded her brain, she decided to call it a day. She couldn’t do it anymore! She would drop out of school and sign on the dole.
Adele closed her eyes to block out her dismal surroundings. She sat back in the chair, resigning herself to her fate. The fight had left her.
Then a picture formed inside her mind. It was Grandma Joyce. Lifelike. Her feisty persona, unmistakable. Ready to speak; her face forming a scowl in that distinct way she had when she was about to give you a good telling-off. She looked the way she used to look before her illness got the better of her. Adele visualised her speaking.
‘Now you listen to me, young lady! What’s all this about you packing in your studies? Not bloody likely! Do you want to end up on the dole for the rest of your bloody life? Like all those silly little cows with a load of kids round their ankles and not a father in sight? You keep on working hard and make a better life for yourself. Do you hear me?’
Adele broke out of her reverie and continued to glance around the room, a small sad smile now forming on her face. Grandma Joyce was still here! In her mind. In her memories.
And no one could take that away.
This time, as Adele glanced around she felt invigorated and more positive. Was this how she wanted to spend the rest of her life? In this pit of despair? No! In that moment she realised that she owed it to herself, and to the memory of her grandma, to try her damnedest to do well at school. She dried her tears, went for a walk to clear her mind then returned to her studies.
It was still a struggle, but the memory of Grandma Joyce pushed her on. She would help her. Every time she felt low, all she needed to do was shut her eyes and picture her there.
She managed to get through some of her homework before her mother returned home and demanded her attention. Shirley was feeling low again. She needed to talk.
‘The neighbours have been good, Adele. But nobody knows how it really feels. You’re the only one who understands because we’re going through it together,’ she sniffed, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
‘I know, Mam,’ she said, walking over to her mother and putting her arms around her.
Shirley’s sobbing brought renewed tears to Adele’s eyes and for a few minutes they stood there embracing each other and sharing their sorrow. Then Tommy returned home. Adele instinctively broke away from her mother and sat back down at the table where she had been writing in her exercise book. She lowered her head to hide her tears from her father but Shirley was beyond disguising her grief.
‘Jesus Christ, not again!’ he said. ‘It’s about bleedin’ time you pulled yourself together, Shirley. It’s been weeks now, and you’re still scriking.’
Shirley dabbed at her eyes again and attempted to stifle her sobs.
‘Anyway,’ con
tinued Tommy. ‘I’ve got some good news that should cheer you up.’
He waited for a response but Shirley just stared at him vacantly.
‘Did you hear me? I’ve got some good news… I’ve got a job, I start Monday.’
‘Oh, that’s good,’ said Shirley but her voice lacked enthusiasm, which prompted an angry outburst from Tommy.
‘Suit your fuckin’ self!’ he said. ‘I thought you’d be over the fuckin’ moon about it, not stood there with a miserable bleedin’ face on yer.’
‘I am,’ said Shirley with a shaky voice. ‘I’m really pleased for you, Tommy,’ she added, her tone pleading.
‘Well I’m off to fuckin’ celebrate anyway. If you want to stay here scriking that’s up to you.’ He turned to walk back out of the door but left them with a few parting words, ‘She was a moaning old bitch anyway.’
Adele was incensed. ‘Did you hear what he just said about grandma?’ she asked.
‘Don’t let it bother you, Adele,’ said Shirley. ‘The two of them never saw eye to eye.’
‘Don’t make excuses for him, Mam! It’s disgusting to speak like that about someone who’s dead and can’t defend themselves.’ Her voice cracked as she spoke.
‘I know, Adele,’ Shirley sobbed.
‘I’m going after him,’ said Adele. ‘He’s not getting away with that!’
‘No!’ shouted Shirley, blocking Adele as she tried to get to the door. ‘You can’t. It’ll only make matters worse if you antagonise him.’
‘I don’t care! I’m sick of him. I hate him! Why do you put up with it? Why don’t you just leave him?’ shouted Adele, backing into the room when she realised the futility of her actions.
Tommy’s words had got to her and she was becoming more annoyed. As her heartbeat quickened and the blood pumped around her body, she could feel a mounting pressure inside her head. Her anger was all-consuming, an accumulation of all the sorrow of the last few weeks spurred on by a lifetime of stress and unhappiness. It was driving her, urging her to find the answers.
Born Bad Page 15
