Ginny turned to look at this creature who was her sister. She could never understand why Lianne was not as splendid as herself. After all, she was from the same parents. Oh, Lianne was pretty enough, with her petite figure and golden hair. Her nicest features were her eyes, darkest green like her father’s, and such lovely lashes too, long and luxuriantly thick, but she was not unusually attractive, not in a special way.
Deep down though, Ginny secretly envied Lianne’s sweeping lashes. They had always irritated her. They irritated her now. It showed in her voice as she snapped, ‘Go to sleep!’
‘Are you going to sleep?’
‘No. I have things to do.’
‘I want to watch you.’ Even though there were times when she wished Ginny was not so cruel, she still adored her. Ginny was her sister, and had never really hurt her… not like she hurt other people.
‘You’re always watching me!’
‘Will Daddy die?’ It was something she had been worried about ever since she first heard him cry out in his sleep.
Ginny laughed. ‘Don’t be stupid. You can’t die just because you’ve had a nightmare.’
‘It frightens me.’
‘You’re too easily frightened.’
‘Aren’t you frightened?’
‘Why should I be? It isn’t my nightmare.’
‘Don’t you love him?’
‘I don’t let myself love anyone.’
‘Not even me?’ There was pain in her voice.
Ginny watched her through the mirror. She saw how small and vulnerable Lianne was. ‘I must love you a little,’ she lied, ‘because I look after you, don’t I?’
Lianne was satisfied. ‘I love you… better than anyone in the whole world,’ she said, blushing with embarrassment. ‘It’s all right for me to say that, isn’t it?’
Ginny continued brushing her hair. ‘It’s all right for you to say anything if you really want to,’ came the haughty reply.
‘I couldn’t say the things you say.’
‘What things?’ The tone was icy.
‘You know… those bad things you said to the teacher today.’
A small harsh laugh. ‘Oh! You thought they were bad, did you?’ She glowered. ‘And I suppose you think I’m bad?’
Lianne didn’t like it when Ginny looked at her in that hateful way. ‘Sometimes you are bad,’ she answered truthfully.
Ginny’s dark eyes smiled on her. Replacing the brush on the dresser she took off her robe. ‘Do you think I could be a model?’ She twirled around before facing Lianne again. ‘You said yourself I was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen.’
Lianne had seen her sister in the nude before, under the showers after a game of volleyball at school, and here at home, because she loved to walk around naked when their parents were out. ‘You know very well you’d make a wonderful model.’ She let her gaze rove over the tall slim figure, over the long shapely legs and the small pert breasts. Ginny was very special, and she adored her, looked up to her, wanted to be like her. Except when she was bad.
‘Do you think I’m changing?’ Ginny stood before her, legs apart, arms dropped to her thighs. ‘Am I different, do you think?’
Disturbed by Ginny’s nearness, Lianne raised her gaze to look into those dark malicious eyes. ‘Different?’ She knew what Ginny was getting at, but she didn’t like to say. Instead she feigned ignorance. ‘How do you mean?’
Ginny stepped nearer. ‘You know very well what I mean… I’m not a girl any more. I’m a woman, so tell me how I’m different!’ she insisted angrily.
Lianne hated her when she was like this. But then her hatred soon went and the love flooded back. She had always clung to Ginny, in a way she could never cling to anyone. Ginny was strong. That was comforting. ‘Your breasts are bigger.’
‘What else?’ She eased her legs open, so brazenly close to her younger sister that the warmth of their bodies mingled.
Lianne visibly cringed. If she had stretched out her hand she could have touched Ginny’s private. As it was, she could see it, pink and wet, half-hidden behind a curtain of dark curly hairs. ‘You’re like that woman in the picture Tom Wright showed us.’
‘Don’t call him Tom Wright.’
‘What should I call him, then?’ She was confused. Not knowing how to please and not knowing how to escape. When she set her mind to it, Ginny could make her feel very uncomfortable.
‘Call him the caretaker. Because that’s what he is.’
‘He’d get the sack if Miss Routledge knew he’d shown us dirty pictures.’ She giggled.
‘You wouldn’t tell though, would you?’
Lianne’s smile fell away. ‘’Course I wouldn’t tell. I don’t want him to get the sack.’
‘Good. Because if you told, I might have to punish you.’
‘I don’t want to listen when you say things like that.’
‘You said I was like the woman in the picture he showed us.’ Her slow-revealing smile was like the moon settling over a dark sky. ‘Tell me what you mean.’ She thrust herself forward, tantalising, slowly curling the hairs round the tips of her fingers. ‘Tell me, Lianne,’ she insisted. ‘I won’t go away until you tell me.’
‘I’ve already told you… your breasts are bigger.’
‘What else?’
She hesitated. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Yes you do, you little liar!’ Grabbing a hank of Lianne’s blonde hair she yanked her head up, forcing Lianne to look at her. ‘The woman in the dirty picture was having sex with a man. Just like I had sex with Stuart Dickens… in the changing rooms, after everyone else had gone.’
‘I don’t want to know.’ Lianne’s features were contorted with pain. ‘Please, Ginny. Let me go.’
‘Not until you say it.’
‘All right! You’re different because you’ve had sex, and I haven’t. Now let me go.’
‘I should still punish you, but I won’t. Not yet anyway.’ She moaned as though in ecstasy. ‘Oh, it was wonderful, Lianne.’ Thrusting Lianne aside she went and sat before the dresser, admiring herself and trembling with passion at the memory of her encounter with Stuart Dickens. ‘You should try it,’ she suggested. Swinging round she gave her sister a fierce look. ‘But not with Stuart. He’s mine. Any of the boys in the sixth form would be glad to lay you.’ Her mood calmer now, she deigned to administer a smile. ‘If you want it, I can always arrange for you to have sex.’
Lianne rolled over to stare at the ceiling. ‘I’ve told you before, I don’t want to have sex.’ Closing her eyes she let herself think of the one person she might want to have sex with. Dave Martin was a tall good-looking sixth former who had moved into the neighbourhood only four months ago. Though they hadn’t yet spoken to each other, Lianne had been attracted to him from the start. He liked her too, she could tell.
Ginny’s voice cut through her fanciful thoughts. ‘You’re a liar, Lianne Lucas! I bet you’d enjoy sex with Dave Martin?’
Lianne was shocked. Lunging round she demanded, ‘How do you know I like him?’ It was almost as though Ginny had read her mind.
‘I just know, that’s all.’ She patted a blob of cream into her hands and spread it ever so gently over her slim, high cheekbones. ‘Dave Martin is smitten with you. I’m sure he’d cut off his right arm to frig you.’ She made a sound like a laugh, but it was too low, too angry. ‘I’ll talk to him.’
‘Don’t you dare!’ Leaping off the bed she confronted her sister with a courage that astonished them both. ‘You leave him alone!’
‘My! My! I didn’t realise just how much you liked him.’ She scowled. ‘I bet you even flutter those long thick lashes at him, don’t you?’ Lianne had lovely eyes but it was the lashes that made them special. It gave her an idea. A wicked spiteful idea.
‘I don’t want to sleep in here. I’m going back to my own room.’ With that Lianne ran out, leaving her sister to cream her skin and pamper herself a while longer.
It was almost two o’clock. The ho
use was quiet and dark, and everyone was asleep – except for Ginny. On tiptoes she crept along the corridor towards Lianne’s room. In one hand she carried a pencil torch. The light from the torch was reflected in the small metal instrument in her other hand. Her footsteps whispered on the carpet, quickening as they neared Lianne’s room. Softly she went inside; holding the torch low she directed the light to the floor.
Lianne was asleep, curled like a kitten to one side of the bed and, like a kitten, her eyes were closed, the thick, rich lashes dark against her cool skin.
Fascinated, Ginny gazed at her, at the sleeping face, at the protective manner in which that small figure was tightly curled. It made her smile. ‘What a strange little thing you are,’ she whispered, gently touching a hank of blonde hair. ‘All curled up like a dormouse, afraid something’s coming to get you while you sleep?’ She grinned. In the half light it was a sinister thing. ‘It can’t be me you’re afraid of,’ she whispered. ‘Why would you be afraid of me?’
Carefully placing the torch on the bedside cabinet she opened the tiny scissors and leaned down. Gently pushing aside a lock of hair from Lianne’s forehead, she set to work. Lianne stirred only once, and that was to paddle the air with her arms, as though fending off an attacker. Ginny merely switched off the torch and waited. When her sister was still once more she finished the delicate task.
Afterwards she shone the torch on her sister’s face. Not close enough for Lianne to wake, but close enough to see the results of her own handiwork. Lianne’s face was different, cleaner somehow, more childish. ‘That’s much better,’ Ginny sighed. ‘Now we can both sleep.’
Leaning down she gently blew on her sister’s face. Just as she planned, the thick shorn lashes showered down on to the pillow, scattered dark fragments against the white background.
The same way she had tiptoed out of her room Ginny tiptoed back again. Once in bed she silently congratulated herself on a good night’s work. Afterwards, she slept like a baby.
Jack was up early. He had a great deal on his mind and wanted to get it over with. ‘Kids!’ he mumbled, as he went about making a pot of tea. ‘Who in their right senses would have ’em?’
‘They put you away for talking to yourself.’ Liz came across the kitchen and gave him a good-morning kiss. ‘Have you thought what you’re going to say to her?’ Dipping her hand into the bread bin, she drew out two slices. ‘How many toast?’
‘Three,’ he groaned. ‘Being a father gives you an appetite.’ He popped four tea-bags into the pot and took out two mugs from the cupboard. When he saw Liz looking at him with that expectant expression he had come to know so well, he told her with a shake of the head, ‘No, I haven’t thought what I’m going to say.’ The kettle whistled. Grateful, he turned away, deliberately keeping his back to her while he poured the boiling water into the pot. ‘First I’ll listen to what she’s got to say.’
‘If she says anything at all, that is.’
‘Oh, she will. I can promise you that. She will!’ He chewed nervously at his bottom lip, suddenly not feeling so confident. ‘Are you sitting in?’ he enquired hopefully.
She gave him one of her dazzling smiles. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. I have to go into Leighton Buzzard this morning. The market’s on and I need some curtain material for that back room.’
His heart sank. ‘Can’t it wait until Monday?’
She sang the reply. ‘There’s no market on a Monday. Only on a Saturday.’ She felt relieved now that Jack was taking control of the situation.
‘I really would like you to sit in.’ He felt like a coward. What man was ever afraid of a girl not yet eighteen? Him! That’s who.
Cruelly, she reminded him. ‘Last night you said you could handle it. Are you saying now that you can’t?’
With her pretty hazel eyes challenging him, he couldn’t let it be known that he was shrinking inside. The thought of Ginny’s dark eyes quietly beseeching him while he ranted and raved was not a pleasant prospect. To be honest he didn’t know what all the fuss was about. ‘Of course I’m not saying I can’t handle it. When did you hear me say that, eh?’ he demanded with a show of outrage. ‘When did I say I couldn’t handle it?’
She nodded with satisfaction. ‘Good.’ When the toast popped up she grabbed the two slices, put them on a plate and thickly buttered them. She laid the plate on the table in front of him. ‘Do you want eggs?’
‘No, thank you. I do not want eggs.’ He felt peeved, angry with himself. It was all Ginny’s fault, damn and bugger the girl! When she got down these stairs she’d be sorry she’d ever made a nuisance of herself!
‘Bacon then?’
‘No, I do not want bacon… nor sausages, nor tomatoes, nor marmalade on my toast.’ He poured out the tea and fetched the mugs to the table, where he resumed his seat, lifted a slice of toast from the plate and bit out a big chunk. Talking with his mouth full he told her, ‘Get off to the market then, and take Lianne with you. I’ll be better on my own anyway.’
‘Don’t talk with your mouth full.’ The next lot of toast burned so she went to the sink and began scraping it.
He gulped the mangled food down. ‘Sorry.’
‘And don’t say sorry.’
‘Okay, I’m not sorry. Who said I was sorry?’ He looked round with big surprised eyes.
The toast came flying across the room and hit him on the side of the head. ‘Stop acting the fool, Jack. I want you to be serious this morning.’
Whether it was the toast smacking into his head, or whether it was because Liz was not in a playful mood, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he suddenly felt like fighting the world. ‘She’d better not keep me waiting too long,’ he grumbled. ‘I’ve got better things to do on a Saturday morning.’
The next ten minutes were spent with Liz on one side of the breakfast table and Jack on the other, and a dark explosive atmosphere between them.
Upstairs, Lianne sat before her dresser and sobbed until the anger had mellowed. She touched her eyes and stroked the short stubby lashes with delicate fingers. ‘Oh, Ginny! How could you?’ she cried. ‘How could you do that to me?’ She knew it had to be Ginny. No one else would do such a terrible thing.
After she was more composed she gathered the fallen lashes into the palm of her hand and dropped them unceremoniously into the waste bin. Then she ran out of the room and sped along the corridor.
Dressed in a burgundy tracksuit, Ginny was putting on her plimsolls when the door was flung open and Lianne stood there, red in the face from crying and visibly shaking with temper. Or fear. Remaining at the door she stared into those dark malicious eyes. She spoke just one word. ‘Why?’
Ginny merely smiled and continued to tie the laces on her plimsolls. ‘Because you needed punishing. Remember I told you that?’
‘It’s you who needs punishing.’
‘Really, Lianne. Don’t make such a fuss. They’ll grow again I expert.’ Collecting her duffel bag from the wardrobe, she dragged it along the floor. ‘I expect you’ll tell on me… go crying to Mummy, like a big baby.’ She pushed her face into Lianne’s and made a childish cry.
‘I would never do that.’
‘Only because you know I’d have to punish you again.’
‘I hate you.’ Rage sped through her, leaving her breathless. Bringing her arm high into the air, she swept it down, slapping her hand into Ginny’s face, the sharp sound cutting through the air like a knife. ‘I’ll never forgive you,’ she cried.
Reeling from the shock, Ginny stared at her, then kissing Lianne full on the mouth, she admitted, ‘You’re right. It was a wicked thing to do.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Don’t hate me.’
Still seeming penitent, she quickly took her leave, impossibly arrogant, exquisitely beautiful. A devil in angel’s disguise.
Lianne watched her go down the stairs. When she could no longer see her, she flattened herself against the door jamb, banging her clenched fists so hard into the wood that the knuckles bled. Plump blinding tears t
umbled down her face. ‘I wish I could hate you,’ she said through bared teeth. ‘Why can’t I hate you?’
As Ginny came into the kitchen, Liz went out, calling up from the bottom of the stairs, ‘If you’re coming with me to the market, Lianne, you’d better get a move on.’ When Lianne’s voice called back to say she wouldn’t be long, she returned to the kitchen where she told Ginny in a hard voice, ‘Your father wants a word with you, my girl.’
Jack saw the animosity that passed between the two. It touched a chord inside him, triggering off a deep, buried memory, though he couldn’t quite understand it. ‘There’s time enough,’ he chided. Turning to Ginny, he suggested, ‘Get your breakfast first.’
Ginny looked from him to her mother, then back again to him. In a syrupy voice she replied, ‘I haven’t got time for breakfast.’ Pointing to her duffel bag she explained, ‘I’m due at the centre in half an hour.’ But she sat down all the same, her dark eyes smiling into his, melting his heart, filling him with all kinds of regrets.
Liz stepped forward, eyes blazing. ‘Well, you’ll just have to be late, won’t you? You have a few questions to answer, I think. You won’t talk to me, so perhaps you’ll talk to your father.’
Ginny fell back, slouching in the chair, a look of innocence on her face as she turned from Liz to her father. ‘What’s all this about?’ She knew very well what it was all about. But it suited her to make them squirm.
Before Jack could answer, Lianne came in. Her knuckles were washed and soaked in ointment. Luckily the damage was limited and not easily detected. Still, as she took one step from the doorway, she kept her hands behind her back.
‘You’d best have a cup of tea and a slice of toast,’ Liz told her. ‘We’ll be too busy to stop off for anything. I have to get back and see to the washing. There’s a pile a mile high in that bathroom.’ Going to the sink she filled the kettle. ‘I’m amazed at how it seems to mount up.’
Dropping two slices of bread into the toaster she quietly addressed Ginny. ‘You might as well have something too, especially if you’re going to be swimming all morning. You’ll come out of there starving otherwise.’
No Heaven, No Hell Page 5
