If she’d been smarter she’d have seen it coming, but things had changed so fast that she hadn’t realized until it was too late.
After just a couple of weeks of trying to convince her how nice he was, how perfect a boyfriend he’d make if she’d only give him a chance, Vinnie Walker had finally got the message that she wasn’t interested. But instead of backing off, he’d turned nasty; following her around the house making veiled threats, and turning the other kids against her by spreading rumours about what she’d supposedly said behind their backs.
She suspected that he’d been biding his time – waiting for the chance to pay her back for rejecting him. And this last week, she’d sensed that he was getting ready to make his move. He’d glared at her once too often, and she’d heard her name in too many hushed conversations. Whatever he was planning, she wished he’d hurry up and get it over with.
She didn’t have long to wait. At just gone six, he threw her door open without knocking.
Determined to keep her wits about her – to at least appear as if she were on top of the situation – Sarah kept her mouth firmly shut, preferring to let him throw down the gauntlet.
Vinnie gave a triumphant sneer. She looked nervous – and so she should. After weeks of giving him the run-around, the bitch was about to learn the error of her ways. He’d had more than enough of her snotty attitude. Enough of her dirty looks. Enough of his mates laughing their bollocks off at him for getting nowhere fast!
Well, she was going to regret it now. Having broken into the office and read her personal file, he now knew the secret that she’d kept from all the other kids, and he was going to reveal her for the scum she really was.
‘Oi, bitch!’ he started. ‘How come you’re so up yourself when you’re nothing but a murderer? Don’t come the innocent,’ he went on when she looked momentarily confused, ‘’cos I know what you did.’ Turning sideways now to include his mates in the shock revelation, he said, ‘You slashed a cat to fuck, then turned on your own mam and sliced her up, didn’t you?’
Sarah almost laughed out loud. She’d been worrying about what he was planning to do, and this was it? Nasty, childish words. Shaking her head, she raised the magazine and casually pretended to read.
Pissed off that she was ignoring him, Vinnie said, ‘Oi, bitch! I’m talking to you.’
‘Sorry.’ She glanced up, a hint of amusement in her eyes. ‘Were you expecting an answer?’
‘Don’t fuck with me,’ he warned, viciously elbowing the sniggering boy behind him. ‘Just admit it.’
‘What’s it got to do with you what I have or haven’t done?’
Vinnie felt a blush creeping up his neck. He hadn’t expected her to be so calm. He’d expected her to shit it that her big secret was out. But the bitch was laughing at him, making a prat of him in front of his mates – again.
‘I wanna know why you did it,’ he snarled. ‘And you’d better tell me!’
‘Or what?’
‘Or I’ll kick your bleedin’ head in, that’s what!’
Resting her cheek on her fist, Sarah slowly looked Vinnie up and down.
‘What you lookin’ at?’ he demanded, squirming now.
‘Dunno,’ she mused, pursing her lips. ‘They don’t label shit nowadays.’
‘You what?’
‘You heard,’ she said, the control in her voice belying the fear that she was pushing him too far. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I’m reading.
‘It’s quite good, actually,’ she went on, unable to stop herself now she’d started. ‘It’s a letter from this lad who reckons his dick won’t stop dribbling after he’s had a piss. You can have a look, if you want. You might find it useful.’
‘Don’t, Sarah,’ Pete warned, sensing that Vinnie was about to lose it.
‘Oh, sorry, I forgot!’ She threw a hand up to her mouth as if realizing she’d put her foot in it. ‘He still wears nappies, doesn’t he?’
At yet more sniggering, Vinnie turned on his friends. ‘Think that’s funny, do you? Well, let’s see who’s laughing when I’ve kicked the fucking shit out of the lot of you!’
‘That’s enough, Walker!’
Sarah breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Mark Chambers’s voice. She didn’t know what she would have done if Vinnie had gone for her. She could kick herself sometimes. Why could she never keep her big mouth shut?
Sending Pete and the others away but telling Vinnie to stay put, Mark drew himself up to his full height and demanded to know what was going on.
‘Nowt,’ Vinnie muttered, scowling at the carpet.
Looking past him to Sarah, Mark said, ‘Everything all right?’
‘Fine, thanks.’ She nodded. ‘Vinnie was just going.’
Jerking his head dismissively, Mark said, ‘Right, Vinnie, move it. But don’t let me catch you near the girls’ rooms again, or there’ll be trouble. Got that?’
Muttering ‘Yeah’ under his breath, Vinnie shot Sarah an evil, hooded glare and swaggered away with as much bravado as he could muster.
‘Are you really all right?’ Mark asked when he’d gone. ‘You know you can tell me if he’s bothering you. I can deal with him without him knowing you’d said anything.’
‘I’m fine,’ she insisted. ‘He was just asking the time.’
‘If you’re sure?’ Mark smiled, but it was obvious that he didn’t believe a word. When Sarah nodded, he flapped his hands in a what-more-can-I-do gesture. ‘You know where I am if you need me.’
‘Thanks.’
When he’d gone, Sarah waited a few moments. Then she leaped up and ran to the door. Popping her head outside, she made sure that the corridor was clear, then wedged the door shut with a chair. Kneeling beside the bed, she lifted the edge of the mattress and reached into the slit she’d made in the material of the bed-base for the metal box she kept hidden there.
There were things in the box that she didn’t want anyone to see. The cracked, fading Polaroid of herself at two holding baby Karen on her knee, for example. And her all-important savings.
Taking out a five-pound note, she replaced the box and smoothed the quilt over. Slipping her jacket on, she headed out, keeping a watchful eye open for Vinnie. There was no telling what he’d do now that she’d embarrassed him in front of his mates. She’d have to hide out in the café, then sneak back in at nine, in time to help Dandi put the younger girls to bed. He wouldn’t dare do anything if she was with Dandi.
Running silently down the rarely used backstairs, Sarah slipped out of the kitchen door and darted across to the dense bank of hedges covering the garden wall. Pushing her way through, she edged her way along until she reached the section of railing where, some years earlier, a determined absconder had forced two bars apart, making a gap just wide enough for a medium-sized child to squeeze through. Hoisting herself up, she slipped easily through the gap and dropped down to the pavement below.
Pausing to dust herself down in the still-pouring rain, she was about to make a dash for the bus stop when a hand snaked out through the bars and grabbed her hair. Twisting to free herself, she saw that it was Vinnie. Too big to follow her through the gap, he was trying to pull her back, a furious scowl on his face.
‘Let go!’ she cried, digging her nails into his hand.
‘Not till you’ve paid for grassing me up.’
Holding on to her hair to stop him tearing it out, she said, ‘I didn’t grass you, you idiot! I said you were asking the time.’
‘You think you’re too good for me, don’t you?’ he hissed. ‘Strutting about with your nose in the air like you’re something special! Well, you’re not. You’re just an ugly bitch!
‘Well, leave me alone if you hate me so much!’
‘No way, you’ve pissed me off now. How come you never wanted to talk to me when I was trying to be nice, eh? Wasn’t I posh enough, or summat?’
‘Get lost! I don’t have to talk if I don’t want to.’
‘Oh, yeah?’
‘Yeah!’
>
‘Right, that’s it. I’ve had enough of this shit. I ain’t gonna bother talking no more, I’m just gonna batter the bleeding face off you!’
His words drove a stake through Sarah’s heart. It had been eight years, but hearing almost the exact words that her mother had used before the shit had hit the fan turned her stomach to liquid. Sinking her teeth into his hand, she tore free and ran as fast as she could.
Vinnie gave a howl of impotent rage. ‘You’ll have to come back sometime, and I’ll be waiting, you got that? I’ll be waiting!’
Ignoring him, Sarah ran hell-for-leather into the park across the road. Skidding and sliding her way across the sodden grass, she didn’t stop until she reached the boarded-up, long-abandoned gatehouse on the far side. Vaulting over the low fence, she darted around to the back window and squeezed in past a broken slat of wood, falling onto the old kitchen floor with a thud.
Breathless, she soaked up the calm silence of the house. This had been her sanctuary, once upon a time – the place that she had run to whenever she needed time alone.
When her eyes had adjusted to the dark, Sarah made her way into the hallway. It was even darker here and she had to feel her way along the wall to find the hazardous rotted shell of a staircase. Placing her feet with care, she climbed up to the tiny attic room at the top of the house.
Stepping through the door, she peered around. It had been a while since she’d last been here, but nothing had changed. It felt the same; smelled the same; sounded the same. Musty. Dusty. Silent.
This had always been her favourite room. Still boasting glass in its window, it was a fraction warmer than the lifeless morgue that the rest of the house had become. And it afforded the best view of the park – and, if you found the right gap in the trees lining the park’s entrance, most of Starlight’s right side. Even if Vinnie sussed where she was, she’d see him coming in plenty of time to hide.
Smiling when she saw that the wooden packing crate she’d always used as a chair was still there, Sarah pulled it up to the window and sat down. Resting her arms on the sill, she lowered her head and closed her eyes, sighing wearily.
Sarah woke with a start. It was pitch dark – inside and out. Rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm, she pressed her nose against the window and peered out. She couldn’t see a thing other than the gnarled arms of trees silhouetted against the pewter sky and the dim twinkle of lights on the main road ahead.
Illuminating her watch face, she groaned when she saw that it was five to ten. Starlight would be well and truly locked up for the night. And Dandi had probably reported her missing. But there was no point worrying about it now. She might as well accept the fact that she was here for the night and try to make the best of it.
Shivering in the rapidly dropping temperature, she plunged her hands into her pockets and smiled when she felt the five-pound note she’d taken from her box earlier. She’d forgotten all about it. If she hurried, she’d catch the shop before it shut. A nice big bottle of cider was just what she needed to keep her warm.
Getting up, Sarah made her way carefully back down the stairs and out of the house. Glancing all around to make sure that no one was about, she climbed the back gate and ran to the shop.
She was just in time. The window shutter was already down, but the door shutter was only half-drawn. Ducking beneath it, she went inside and shivered as a warm blast of air fell down on her from a heating vent set in the ceiling above the door. Luxuriating in it for a moment, she selected her bottle, paid for it, and made her way back to the gatehouse.
Back in the attic room, she settled on a pile of dusty old newspapers and twisted the cap off the bottle. Taking a long drink, she closed her eyes and revelled in the warmth spreading through her body. Raising the bottle again she drank some more. And some more.
The drunker Sarah became, the more her thoughts turned to the nasty scene with Vinnie, rerunning every word he’d said and every reply she’d made. Mentally rewriting the script, she rehearsed it out loud between swigs, revising it each time, until she had a new, perfect version of what she should have said.
. . . You’re bad, Sarah . . . Bad, useless, an’ good for nowt but trouble . . .
Shocked to hear her mother’s voice as clearly as if she were right there in the room, she dropped the bottle. ‘Shit!’ she yelped, groping blindly for it. ‘Don’t do that!’
Taking a long drink, giggling now at her own stupidity, Sarah said, ‘She ain’t even here, y’idiot! You’re on your lonely-only-owny!’
. . . Bad . . . useless . . .
. . . Get the dress on . . . Now . . .
. . . Good for nowt but trouble . . .
‘Aw, fugov!’ Struggling to her feet, she peered drunkenly around the blinding darkness. ‘Y’ di’n want me then, Mammy, so don’t come lookin’ f’ me now!’
. . . Bad . . .
‘Right, tha’s it!’ Raising her fists, Sarah looked around for her mother. Finding nothing but emptiness to vent her anger upon, she sank to her knees, sobbing, ‘Why, Mammy? Why . . . ?’
When the tears subsided, she closed her swollen eyes and hugged her knees to her chest. The crying had sobered her a little, but she couldn’t shake the maudlin mood taking a grip of her heart – or the memories flooding her mind.
The hatred in Mammy’s eyes when she said Sarah was bad like her father . . .
The man getting mad because she wouldn’t put the horrible dress on . . .
Poor little Joey Kitten with his squeaky little cry . . .
Karen – the dirty little liar – screaming that Sarah had stabbed him . . .
And the blood . . . So much blood, leaking out of her Mammy like raspberry juice . . .
Covering her ears, she rocked to and fro, humming loudly to drown out the haranguing, accusing voices of the past.
When they finally stopped, Sarah downed what was left of the cider and was soon as drunk as ever. But this time she was not amused, not maudlin – she was furious. With her mother for dumping her, and with herself for giving in to her emotions after holding fast for so long, but most of all with Vinnie, for chasing her out of the house and landing her in this mess.
This, more than anything, brought her to her feet and spurred her on as she made her precarious way back down the stairs and out of the house.
‘You’re a bastard, Vinnie Walker!’ she muttered as she stumbled through the now-deserted park. ‘Think y’ kickin’ me outta my bed, y’ c’n think again!’
Clambering over the gates, Sarah fell to the pavement with a thud. Numb to the pain, she picked herself straight back up and lumbered across the road.
Navigating her way over the wall and through the railings was more difficult from the pavement side, but she managed it and, thrashing her way through the bushes, emerged into the garden with a jubilant yelp. She immediately shushed herself when she saw that the house was in darkness.
Tiptoeing across the lawn she tried the side door. It was locked. Giving up after a number of futile tugs, she stumbled around to the rear of the house.
Inside, Mark had activated the alarm and switched out the lights. He was heading up to bed with a glass of Scotch when he heard rustling, scraping noises. Stopping mid-stair, he leaned over the handrail and peered through the open kitchen door. Seeing the dark shadow at the window, he crept back down the stairs and placed the glass on the hall table. Creeping silently into the kitchen doorway, he strained to hear above the thudding of his heart. He hoped to God it wasn’t a burglar. Big as he was, he’d never been much of a fighter. Recognizing the familiar voice muttering drunken obscenities outside the window, he breathed a shuddering sigh of relief.
Sarah!
He pondered the problem facing him now. He should really get Dandi to deal with this, but he didn’t want to disturb her. She’d had an awful night, waiting around at the hospital while one of the boys had his head stitched back together after a nasty accident. She’d had a migraine when she’d got back and had gone straight to bed.
But Mark’s reluctance to wake Dandi was not just that he doubted whether she’d be in any fit state to deal with this, it was also because he felt guilty that he hadn’t realized Sarah was out when he’d locked up for the night. That was really lax, and Dandi would be pissed off when she found out.
If she found out.
He didn’t have to tell her, did he? Sarah was safe, that was the main thing. He could sort this out quickly and quietly, and no one would be any the wiser.
Going back into the hall, Mark downed his drink, deactivated the alarm and eased the door open. Stepping outside, he hissed, ‘Sarah . . . stop making all that noise and come here.’
‘’S all right . . .’ she called back. ‘’S only me . . .’ Staggering around to the door, she raised a finger to her lips. ‘Sshhh!’
‘Look at the state of you,’ Mark whispered, amusement tingeing his voice. ‘Come on, birthday girl. Let’s get you up to bed before Dandi sees you.’
‘Mushn’t let Dandi shee me!’ she giggled, allowing him to lead her inside. ‘Oh, no! Mushn’t let her know I’m – Oops!’
Catching Sarah as she fell, Mark covered her mouth with his hand and held his breath. When no one appeared after a moment, he hustled her up the stairs at an almost-run.
Opening her bedroom door, he pushed her inside and slipped in behind her, increasingly nervous about the trouble that he’d get into if he were caught. It was bad enough that he was practically carrying one of the girls to bed, but a drunken one, well after hours, with Scotch on his breath . . . It didn’t bear thinking about! Pulling the quilt aside, Mark laid Sarah down and covered her up, then tiptoed towards the door.
‘Mish’r Chambers!’ she cried just as he reached it. ‘Go’n be sick.’
‘Oh, no,’ he groaned. ‘Don’t do this to me!’
Scanning the room for a wastebin – or anything that would pass as a sick-bucket – Mark spotted an ice-cream tub filled with small bottles of nail polish on the dressing table. Tipping them out, he took it to her.
‘Here, do it in this,’ he whispered, pulling her upright and holding the tub beneath her chin.
Sarah retched a couple of times, but nothing came. Flopping forward onto his shoulder, she looped her arms around his neck.
Tainted Lives Page 8
