She didn’t respond to her mother’s last comment, not trusting herself to remain in control. Instead she stood up and said, ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’ She made her way to the kitchen and put a kettle full of water on the gas jet of the stove.
Once Adele had made a drink for them both, she spent a further few moments discussing her imminent departure with her mother.
‘What’s brought this on all of a sudden?’ asked Shirley.
‘It isn’t sudden, Mam. I’ve been thinking about it since I started work. Anyway, it will be a while yet before I’ve saved up enough to kit the place out.’
‘Do you have to go, love? Maybe he’ll be better now our Peter’s gone.’
‘I want to go, Mam.’
‘But why? You’ve always coped before.’
‘That’s just it, Mam. I coped because I had no choice. But now I’m working, I do have a choice. So, I’m going, and that’s that.’ Before Shirley had a chance to say anything more Adele announced that she was going out.
Adele needed to be alone. She needed to clear her head; she couldn’t think straight with her mother present. Even if she disappeared upstairs, she wouldn’t feel free. Her mother had gone into clingy mode and Adele had no doubt that she would be interrupting her constantly just to reassure herself that her daughter was still available to her; for the time being anyway.
Once Adele was alone, she felt liberated; free to make her own decision. And she resolved that her decision would remain no matter what her mother did or said. She would move out of her parents’ home as soon as possible. She just hoped that her mother would be OK once she was gone.
Chapter 32
Peter had been living in the squat for a few months now and found that he was quite enjoying it. No more hassle from his father. No more having to do as he was told. Instead he could do as he pleased; as long as he didn’t get caught.
The need to commit crime in order to survive didn’t bother Peter. It had become a way of life to him now and one that he quite enjoyed. It was the thrill of it. The rush of adrenalin when he knew he was doing wrong and that feeling of exhilaration when he’d managed to pull something off. He was giving a huge two fingers to society.
He had also become more hardened to his life of crime since he had spent time in the detention centre. His abuse at the hands of Patterson had changed him irrevocably. Deep inside he felt bitter about how he had been treated; firstly by his father and then by the staff in the detention centre. Why had Patterson singled him out? Was it because, like most of the other adults in Peter’s life, he thought he was scum so he treated him accordingly?
Stuff all the adults who had wronged him and the people who tried to keep him in check with their pathetic rules and regulations. Stuff the lot of them! What did he care?
Not long after Peter went to live in the squat, David left home to join him. Like Peter, he enjoyed the freedom. Another thing Peter enjoyed was the level of respect he got from the other lads. He’d been inside. He’d done daring things, bad things, and they admired him for it. With Alan still inside for killing a man, Peter became the unofficial leader of the group and it was a position he relished.
Tonight Peter and David were breaking into a shop. They intended to stock up with cash from the till, food, cigarettes and anything else they could lay their hands on. They’d waited till midnight, ensuring there was no one about and the owners’ bedroom lights had been switched off for a while.
Once they had forced their way in, they crept about inside the shop. Peter felt a surge of energy as the adrenalin pumped around his body, sharpening his vision and hearing. David took out a crowbar. He used it to lever the till so they could grab any cash left on the premises. They were disappointed to find it empty. The owners must have gone to the bank that day.
Next, he and David packed the bags they had brought with anything edible to take back to the squat as well as plenty of cigarettes. They rushed around the shop as quietly as possible, grabbing anything they wouldn’t have to cook.
Peter smiled at David when his bag was full, and David sniggered back at him. There was only one thing left to do now. Peter was looking forward to this third task most of all.
He nodded at David who set to work with the crowbar. Peter used a hammer he had brought. Within minutes they had knocked most of the goods off the shelves. They continued using their tools to wreak as much damage as they could, breaking the glass displays and splintering the shop’s counter.
Then they heard the sound of footsteps above them and dashed outside with their bags full of goodies. They ran for several minutes, pausing to catch their breath once they were well away from the shop.
Peter felt triumphant as he pictured the reaction of the owners when they found their precious shop full of emptied packets, broken glass and damaged units. He and David had done what they set out to do, and the owners hadn’t heard a thing until it was too late.
A smug grin of satisfaction lit up Peter’s face. He had done it! He had finally got revenge on Mrs Roper; the shopkeeper who had scorned and belittled him and Adele throughout their childhood. That would teach her!
*
Adele had been saving for the last few months and the time for moving out was drawing closer. Since she first broached the subject with her mother, Adele had tried to discuss it with her several times. However, every attempt was met with a sombre response from her mother, who would usually mutter a few words then bow her head. They’d both agreed not to tell Tommy until Adele was gone, in case he caused a scene. Adele had already found a flat and paid the deposit and the first month’s rent. For the past two weeks she had been kitting it out ready for her intended moving-in date. That day had now arrived. And it was time to broach the subject once more with her mother.
‘Mam, you know what day it is today, don’t you?’ she asked.
Shirley didn’t reply so Adele raised her voice, ‘Mam?’
Shirley sniffed and hesitated before replying. ‘You’re going through with it then?’
‘Yes, I told you I would.’
‘Well, that’s that then, I suppose. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be all right.’ Shirley ended this last sentence with another sniff then drew a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at imaginary tears.
‘It won’t work, Mam!’
‘What?’
‘You know what!’ said Adele, becoming irritated. ‘You’re trying to guilt-trip me.’
‘No, I’m not. I’m upset, Adele. I can’t help it. How would you feel if you’d already lost one of your children and then the other decided to leave you?’
‘For God’s sake!’ Adele snapped. ‘You haven’t lost Peter. You can go and see him any time you like. I can give you the address.’
‘I can’t be going round to a place like that. I don’t who I’m going to bump into. Anything could happen.’
‘Well I’ve been there plenty of times and I was OK. You don’t really think Peter would let anything happen to you, do you?’
Shirley didn’t reply. She had exhausted this particular topic so after a few moments she returned to complaints about Adele leaving. ‘It’s gonna be a struggle y’know but, if you’re dead set on leaving, I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say that’s gonna change your mind.’ Her voice was lacklustre and Adele could tell it was her way of trying to guilt-trip her again. But she wasn’t going to let her get round her like that.
‘No, you’re right, Mam, there isn’t,’ she snapped. ‘So stop bloody harping on about it. You’re a grown woman, for God’s sake! Why should I stay here and look after you? Can’t you see? He’s driven Peter away and now he’s driving me away. If you’re daft enough to stay with him, that’s up to you, but don’t expect me to do the same!’
As soon as she’d finished, Adele stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her. Eventually she calmed down. Then the guilt set in. She pictured her mother sitting weeping downstairs, her face blotchy and tear-stained, and knew she had gone too far.
&n
bsp; But she wasn’t as patient with her mother as she used to be. Since Adele had lost her grandma and found out about the circumstances surrounding her birth, she had contained a smouldering anger, which sometimes rose to the surface.
For almost an hour Adele wrestled with her conscience. On the one hand she told herself that her mother was a grown woman who shouldn’t be so reliant on her but, on the other hand, she worried about how her mother would cope once she had gone.
For as far back as Adele could remember, Shirley had always been vulnerable. She wondered whether it was part of her make-up or just the effects of being married to her father for so long. Adele couldn’t remember a time when her mother hadn’t relied on tranquilisers to get her through the day, but since Grandma Joyce had died, she’d become even worse.
Adele waivered in her decision. Perhaps she should stay a bit longer just to see her mother over the worst. But what if she never got better? Maybe her mother would never improve while she had somebody else to shoulder the burden.
The thoughts swirled around in her mind, giving her a headache. But she was getting no further forward; just going over the same ground again and again. Eventually, when she had exhausted all possibilities, Adele reached a decision. She went back downstairs to tell her mother.
Just as Adele had surmised, her mother was sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, a blotchy face and a sodden handkerchief. As Adele approached, full of remorse, her mother looked up at her with an air of expectancy.
‘I’m sorry for losing it and upsetting you,’ Adele said.
She completed the last few steps to her mother and they embraced. Shirley clung to her for precious seconds until Adele loosened her grip.
‘Are you going?’ Shirley asked, her lips quivering.
‘Yes, Mam. I’m sorry but I haven’t changed my mind. And I need to go before he gets home.’
‘Oh,’ said Shirley, her eyes misting over.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Adele. ‘But I’ll come and see you as often as I can. You’re welcome to come round and see me too. You’ve got the address. And I’ll give you the phone number as soon as I’m connected.’
‘All right,’ said Shirley, despondently.
‘Well, I suppose that’s that, then,’ Adele added, turning to walk out of the room.
She had almost reached the door when her mother called her back.
‘Adele,’ she said, choking back her tears. ‘I just want to say that, well, I understand.’
Adele walked away, the emotion of the moment finally getting to her. But she refused to cry. She’d put up with her father all these years and now it was time she had her freedom. She deserved it.
Chapter 33
‘What d’you mean she’s fuckin’ gone?’ asked Tommy, the veins in his neck protruding as his anger escalated.
‘She’s found a flat,’ said Shirley who had been dreading telling him.
‘Oh yeah? Like that is it? She’s all right to sponge off me while she’s still at school but the minute she gets a job, she pisses off and finds her own place!’
‘I don’t think she meant it like that, Tommy.’
‘Well how the fuck did she mean it? Are we not good enough for her now she’s got a job at a fuckin’ solicitors?’
‘No, it’s not that, Tommy,’ Shirley cajoled. ‘I think she just wants a bit of independence.’
‘Independence, my arse! She’s too bleedin’ young to be leaving home. Didn’t you tell her that?’
‘I tried to persuade her to stay, Tommy, honestly I did. But she was having none of it.’
‘I bet you bleedin’ did, you dozy cow. You’re fuckin’ useless!’
Shirley didn’t reply. She didn’t want to inflame the situation any further. Instead she watched Tommy as he tucked into his evening meal.
‘This dinner’s fuckin’ cold!’ he complained.
‘It’s been out for two hours. I’d have warmed it up for you if you’d asked.’
‘Stuff it!’ shouted Tommy, hurling the plate full of food against the wall. ‘I’m not eating this shit!’
Again Shirley stayed silent, not sure how to react for fear of inciting him even more.
Tommy spent a few moments pacing the room before announcing, ‘Right, you’d better tell me where she’s living. I’ll go round there and see if I can knock some sense into the silly little cow!’
‘I don’t know,’ said Shirley.
‘Don’t tell me fuckin’ lies. You know! And how long have you known she was moving out?’
‘Only a few days. I was going to tell you but there never seemed to be the right time.’
‘Don’t tell fuckin’ lies!’ Tommy shouted again, emphasising his point this time by giving Shirley a smack across the face with the back of his hand. ‘Tell me where she fuckin’ lives!’
‘I can’t.’
‘I said tell me!’ shouted Tommy. He gripped hold of the top of Shirley’s dress, his fists pressing into her throat. Then he dragged her out of the chair and slammed her up against the wall. His fists pressed against her windpipe and Shirley struggled to breathe. She could smell the beer as he exhaled sharply and yelled again, ‘You better fuckin’ tell me if you know what’s good for you.’
Shirley couldn’t speak. Her throat was constricted. Instead she shook her head from side to side while her eyes bulged in her head.
‘I said tell me!’ Tommy yelled again, releasing his hold then tightening it again as he bashed her head into the wall.
The colour drained from Shirley’s face and she let out a strangled yelp. Tommy released his hold and let her drop to the ground. She could see the shock on his face as though he was afraid he’d overdone it this time.
He looked down at her, poised to strike again but also checking for signs of life. She stirred and groaned before realising that was a mistake. As rage consumed him, Tommy kicked at Shirley’s legs and back until his anger was spent. Then he stopped, breathing heavily and surveying the damage. This time she kept still, relief flooding through her as she watched him walk away.
*
Adele was shocked at the sight of her mother. She had called around early on a Saturday morning when she knew her father would still be in bed. Straightaway she noticed the red mark on one side of her face and the bruises on her neck.
‘What’s happened to you?’ she asked although she already knew the answer.
‘You don’t wanna know,’ said Shirley, downcast.
‘Has he been at you again?’
Shirley’s lack of response confirmed Adele’s suspicions and, as she noticed her mother limping, she suspected that the worst of her injuries were hidden. She was wearing trousers; something she rarely did.
‘What’s wrong with your leg?’ asked Adele.
‘What?’
‘You’re limping, Mam.’
‘Oh, it’s nothing. Just a bit of arthritis.’
‘Are you sure?’
Shirley remained silent again and Adele followed her through to the living room where they both sat down.
‘Tell me, Mam!’ Adele demanded.
‘Shhh,’ said Shirley, pointing her eyes upwards to indicate that Tommy was upstairs in bed. Then she whispered, ‘Don’t let him hear you.’
Adele stared back at her mother, waiting for an explanation. Eventually Shirley gave in to her demands. ‘I suppose it’s best you know,’ she said, sighing. ‘He’s not happy about you going.’
‘I knew it!’ Adele interrupted angrily, feeling guilty that Tommy had taken things out on her mother.
‘Shhh,’ Shirley implored again before continuing. ‘The way he sees it is that you leeched off him while you were at school and then buggered off once you could afford it.’
‘That’s rubbish!’ stormed Adele, lowering her voice when her mother put her finger to her lips. ‘I left because of him; because I can’t stand the way he treats us all. Just look at what he’s done to you. It isn’t right, Mam.’
‘I know, love, but he’s done his worst.
He’s calmed down now he’s over the initial shock.’
Adele wasn’t naïve enough to believe that Tommy was hurt because of any feelings he had for her. The most likely reason for his anger would be because he’d miss the money that she paid for her keep. Then there was the contribution she made to the housework. Not for the first time, Adele was tempted to offer her mother a place at her flat. But she resisted. It was time to be selfish now. She’d spent her life in sufferance because of her mother’s past mistakes; so had Peter. And she’d had enough. Although Adele cared about her, she knew that she would drag her down. Besides, she reasoned to herself, there just wasn’t room. It was only a one-bedroomed flat.
After a few moments’ thought, Adele asked, ‘Did you tell him where I’m living?’
Shirley flashed a half-hearted grin. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Why d’you think he went to town on me?’
Adele inhaled sharply, raising her hand to cover her mouth at the shock of her mother’s words. ‘Oh, Mam. I’m sorry,’ she said.
Shirley just shrugged.
‘How bad is it?’ Adele asked.
Shirley lifted her top, revealing a mass of bruises on her back, and Adele fought back the tears.
‘Are your legs the same?’
Her mother nodded.
‘Oh, Mam,’ Adele said, her voice shaking. ‘You don’t have to put up with this. You could report him to the police?’
‘No. It would only make matters worse,’ her mother replied despondently.
Adele rose from her chair, ‘I’m going to have a word with him. This isn’t on!’ she said, nodding her head angrily towards her mother’s bruises.
Shirley was upon her before she reached the door, grabbing at her arm to pull her back. ‘Please don’t, Adele. It’ll only make things worse.’
Adele stopped and stood in silence for a few seconds before walking back to her seat. ‘What will you do?’ she asked.
‘Don’t worry about me, Adele. I’ll be OK. He’ll be all right now he’s over the shock of it. He’s already sorry for what he’s done. In fact, he brought me a takeaway home last night; chicken curry and rice, my favourite. It shows he’s thinking of me, doesn’t it?’
Born Bad Page 18
