‘Anyway, we’ve brought you a present,’ said Aunty Tamara. ‘I hope it fits.’
Trina hastily tore off the wrapping paper. Knowing that Aunty Tamara was fashionable and had good taste in clothes, Trina was eager to have a look. She pulled out the garment and held it up to examine. It was a nice top but then she realised it was too small.
‘There, I told you it would be too small,’ said Aunty Tamara, addressing her husband. ‘But you wouldn’t have it, would you?’
‘Never mind, we can always return it for a bigger size,’ said Daisy.
‘No, we can’t,’ said Aunty Tamara, ‘because Joshua here tore the label off and put the receipt in the bin.’
‘Get off my case, woman!’ cursed Uncle Josh.
Trina found it hard to hide her disappointment. She thanked them anyway, knowing that it was what her mother would have expected.
The first half hour of the party carried on in a similar vein with various relatives and adult friends arriving. There were no more presents but each of them brought Trina a birthday card and a dish of food to be added to the others.
By the time they had all arrived there was an assortment of West Indian food laid out on the table: jerk chicken and lots of other traditional Jamaican dishes including beef patty, a fish dish that Trina wasn’t familiar with, a spicy chicken stew, rice and peas, banana bread and various other sweets. To her consternation Trina noticed that there wasn’t any jelly or trifle or little sticks with sausages and cheese on like she had eaten at her friends’ birthday parties.
The adults chatted in loud, excited voices, keen to catch up with each other, and laughing boisterously as they shared jokes. Trina walked through to the living room where the other children had gathered; her brothers and her two cousins, Josh and Calvin, were the only youngsters there. She noticed Josh nudging Calvin as she walked into the room, a sly grin on his face.
‘This party’s shit,’ he said, eyeballing Trina as she made her way towards them. Then he turned from his brother and addressed Trina. ‘How come you’re not having it at your house anyway?’ he asked.
Trina knew that her cousins would only ridicule her if she told them the real reason; that her mother couldn’t afford it, so she just shrugged and said, ‘Dunno.’
‘What you got for your birthday?’ asked Calvin.
‘Clothes,’ said Trina.
‘That some of ’em?’ he asked, referring to what Trina was wearing and squealing in amusement. ‘Fuckin’ hell, man, that’s a state,’ he continued. ‘You wanna get some cool gear like mine, all top notch fuckin’ designer labels these.’
Trina wasn’t bothered about designer labels but she was bothered that he was deriding the new clothes her mother had struggled to buy for her. A few mean words from her cousins made her feel suddenly self-conscious and inadequate.
She looked up to her older cousins as they always seemed so cool and switched on. But the flip side of that was that they also made her feel inferior because she would never be as smart or as cool as them. And Trina couldn’t understand how Aunty Tamara and Uncle Josh managed to afford all the designer gear as Aunty Tamara was always complaining that she wasn’t well off.
‘There’s not even any fuckin’ music,’ said Josh.
‘Put some on then,’ said Calvin.
‘No chance, my dad’ll go fuckin’ spare.’
The lack of music was soon remedied when Aunty Tamara bounded into the living room. ‘Get some lively music on that stereo, Josh,’ she ordered, pointing to a pile of CDs which she had left nearby. ‘It’s like a graveyard in here.’
Aunty Tamara started off the dancing, her moves lively and provocative. The alcohol was now flowing and the adults gradually came into the living room and joined in while the youngsters looked on, bored.
‘Come and have a dance,’ Aunty Tamara shouted over to Trina and her cousins.
The boys resisted, but Trina was dragged onto the dance floor. She felt embarrassed as her aunty gyrated close to her and she could hear her two cousins laughing in the background.
Eventually she managed to escape and found that her two cousins had now disappeared. She had a look round the house, but they seemed to have left. Despite their ridicule and insults, at least they had provided some company for Trina. Now there was no one left to talk to, so she busied herself by keeping an eye on her younger brothers while her mother joined in the dancing and drinking.
Trina was willing the party to come to an end when she became aware of a fracas. It seemed to be coming from outside the front door and she strained to hear what was being said. The loudest voice was one she recognised and it sent a cold chill down her spine. It was her father.
9
December 1991
Trina could hear her father yelling even though he was still outside. ‘I told you, I’m not leaving here till I’ve seen my fuckin’ daughter. I’ve got a present for her birthday.’
‘No, Isaac. You’re not coming in. You’ve got a drink inside you and you’ll only cause trouble.’
‘No, I fuckin’ won’t!’ shouted Isaac, and Trina could tell he was already becoming angry.
‘You stay where you are, child,’ warned Trina’s grandmother while some of the men rushed to the door to sort out her troublesome father.
She could hear various angry words being exchanged, and lots of bad language, then a scream, which she thought came from her mother.
‘Just give me the present and I’ll take it to her,’ said Trina’s grandfather. ‘I swear, Isaac, if you don’t go now, I’m calling the police.’
Then all went quiet and the adults trudged back into the room. While Daisy went over to her sister, Tamara, who consoled her, Trina’s grandfather handed her the present. The wrapping paper was torn and creased and some material was poking out.
Trina opened the present tentatively while her mother looked on. It was a shell suit. She almost squealed with delight when she pulled it out of the wrapping paper, and caught sight of the popular sports label. If only her cousins had stayed to see this! It was the best present of the day and Trina had wanted one for ages. She looked up with a smile until she caught the scornful expression on her mother’s face and quickly put the present back down.
‘It’s alright when you can afford them sorts of gifts,’ her mother muttered.
‘That’s supposing he did buy it,’ said Aunty Tamara.
Trina’s grandma tutted. ‘Tamara, that’s not a nice thing to say. He might have his faults, but at least he brought something for the child.’
As she spoke, she looked at Trina with kindness in her eyes, and Trina knew the words had been spoken for her benefit so that she wouldn’t feel any worse about the fact that her father had gate-crashed the party and caused a load of bother.
Her grandmother’s words also acted as a warning to the other adults to stay quiet on the subject. Daisy responded by tutting and leaving the room. While she was gone, Trina took another surreptitious look at the shell suit. She couldn’t help but feel a shiver of delight when she imagined herself parading around in it and getting admiring glances and comments from the local girls.
It wasn’t long before Daisy came back into the room, carrying their coats. ‘Thank you for everything,’ she said to Trina’s grandparents, ‘but I’m afraid it’s time for us to go now.’
‘Aw! You sure?’ asked Aunty Tamara.
‘Yes, I think the children have had enough excitement for one day,’ she said. Then she turned to Trina. ‘Come on, child. Collect your presents while I round the boys up.’
Trina gathered up the other presents first, eager to take the present from her father but apprehensive about her mother’s reaction when she did so. While she dithered, her mother walked back into the room with her younger brothers.
‘Come on now, Trina. We’re all ready,’ she said, gravely.
Trina picked up on her tone and ignored her father’s present. She was just about to walk out the door with the rest of her family when her grandmother r
ushed over to her carrying it.
‘Don’t forget this one, child,’ she said, smiling at Trina then flashing a knowing look at Daisy.
Trina returned her smile and took the present. But as she trudged through the streets with the rest of her family, she had mixed feelings about it. She was delighted to have received just what she wanted but, at the same time, she couldn’t help but feel that the present was somehow tainted by the way in which it had been delivered and by whom.
Daisy stayed quiet for most of the journey home. Despite the present from her father, Trina felt that it had been one of the most miserable days of her life so far. It was one thing having the present you wanted, but another thing not being able to show any joy at receiving it. Her tenth birthday somehow summed up the state of their current existence as a family, and Trina couldn’t help but wonder if things would ever get any better.
*
The following day when her brother, Jarell, came into the house after playing outside, Trina stared at him in dismay. His knees were bloody and he was crying inconsolably, his eyes red and a stream of mucus trailing from his nostrils. Ellis tripped into the house after him.
‘It was that Shaun Gallagher again,’ said Ellis. ‘Him and his friends started picking on Jarell for nothing. They were going to get me as well but they couldn’t catch me. When I turned round I saw Shaun pushing Jarell over, and he cut his knees on the floor.’
‘Why didn’t you hit him back?’ asked Trina, but she didn’t get a reply from Jarell who was too busy sobbing. So she turned to Ellis, ‘And why did you run off and leave him?’
She was incensed. This was the second time this had happened this week, and for weeks prior to that her brothers had put up with racist taunts from Shaun and his friends.
Ellis answered her questions in a roundabout way. ‘There were three of them,’ he said. ‘And they’re all bigger than us.’
‘Well they’re not bigger than me,’ said Trina, knowing which boys Shaun Gallagher hung about with.
She was becoming increasingly annoyed as she took in the state of Jarell and decided it was about time she did something about it.
‘Come and show me where they are,’ she said to Ellis, putting her shoes on, but before she had chance to walk out of the house, she saw her mother approach and stand just inside the living room door, blocking Trina’s exit.
‘Oh no you don’t, my girl!’ she said, her arms folded beneath her breasts and her head shaking slowly from side to side.
‘Why not? Are you going to see Shaun’s mam and dad instead?’ Trina asked.
‘No, I’m not, and I want you all to stay away too. I have enough troubles of my own without getting involved with that sort of family. Just look at what they’ve done to my boy’s knees. Come into the kitchen, Jarell, and let me get you cleaned up. And I don’t want to hear another word about it, Trina. You stay away, do you hear?’
Daisy fixed Trina with a steely gaze and Trina knew she wouldn’t accept any arguments. She nodded but stayed silent, despite feeling a strong sense of injustice.
It was some time later when Trina walked through to the kitchen to find her mother chunnering away to herself. She was cutting vegetables on the work surface, with her back to Trina, and didn’t hear her approach. On hearing her mother, Trina stood still, listening to the bitter words that were pouring from her mouth.
‘Damn you, Isaac! You should be here to sort things out instead of me having to put up with my children being picked on. You’ve got more than your share of faults, that’s for sure, but those nasty boys would never have picked on my children if you were around.’
Then she chuckled ironically to herself. ‘Eeh, everybody knows not to mess with you, Isaac, especially when you’re in a bad mood. You’d even frighten the devil out of his den.’
Then she sighed before reaching for another potato. Trina fled quietly from the room, before her mother could catch sight of her and realise she had been eavesdropping. Her mother’s words echoed her own thoughts. Trina might not have got along with her father but there were advantages to having a father with a hard man reputation. And now that he wasn’t around she had no choice but to stand back and let the Gallaghers get away with picking on her brothers. She was so tempted to step in, but she’d do her best to heed her mother’s warning.
10
October 2006
These days it was rare for Ruby to work the streets. She’d built up a regular clientele and allowed those who she trusted to come back to her flat. Not all of the girls liked to take clients back to their homes but Ruby wasn’t interested in their rules; it was her flat and she’d do as she pleased. But there were some clients who preferred her to visit them at home or in a hotel room.
On this particular occasion she didn’t have any work booked for the night so she’d made one of her rare outings to Aytoun Street. She was pleased when a client had pulled up and asked her to come to a five-star hotel in the city centre; it meant she wouldn’t have to hang about all night waiting for other clients to arrive. Although she was a bit apprehensive at spending the night with a new client, he was willing to pay a lot of money for the privilege so she took the chance.
Ruby was a little nervous when she entered the hotel room with him. Despite having been on the game for a number of years, she still felt daunted when going into a situation she knew nothing about. She was therefore relieved when the client seemed what she would have termed ‘normal’. In fact, he was quite the gentleman, smiling warmly as he took her jacket and offered to pour her a glass of champagne.
While Ruby sipped at her champagne they made small talk. The man was in his late thirties and above average looking, although a little overweight. He had a confident air about him and she wondered, as she did with many clients, why he had resorted to using prostitutes. Surely he wouldn’t have too much of a problem attracting women. But then, clients met prostitutes for all sorts of reasons and she guessed from his chat that he travelled a lot on business and sometimes got a bit lonely when he was in a strange city.
Eventually the inevitable happened. Ruby kept to her usual routine, carefully undressing and laying her clothes on the floor by the side of the bed where she could reach them easily. It was while he was taking her from behind that he grabbed hold of her hair and yanked it hard whilst slapping her repeatedly on her backside.
‘Take your hands off me!’ said Ruby, trying to stay calm although she could feel anger firing up inside her.
The man ignored her and continued to thrust himself deep inside her while slapping Ruby’s backside and pulling her hair. The stinging pain in her scalp brought tears to her eyes and Ruby yelled at him to stop. But her distress seemed to heighten his vigour and he continued thrusting while continuing to yank on her hair and slapping her so hard that her backside felt raw.
‘I said get your fuckin’ hands off me!’ she roared, drawing back her arm and using all her strength to elbow him in the stomach.
The man yelped in pain and instinctively reared up and gripped his stomach. Within nanoseconds Ruby was off the bed and had reached for the knife she kept concealed inside her jacket. She swung round and pointed it at him.
‘Do you want a fuckin’ taste of it?’ she shrieked, jabbing the knife into the tender flesh of his throat but stopping short of drawing blood.
To her surprise the man looked up and grinned, despite the pain in his stomach and the menacing presence of the blade, which Ruby kept tight against his throat.
‘Ha, so you like to dominate, do you?’ he asked while Ruby stared at him nonplussed. ‘Pardon me. I assumed you like to be the submissive one like a lot of the girls. But, if domination’s what you’re into then let’s go for it. I’ve got some cable ties in my case. You can tie me to the bed if you like.’
‘Are you fuckin’ serious?’ asked Ruby. ‘My arse is stinging like hell and you’re asking me to carry on? Not a fuckin’ chance!’
She stood back, pulling the knife away but still holding it at arms’ length to
ward off any further danger.
‘My apologies for misreading the situation,’ said the man, managing to maintain a cool façade despite his obvious pain and, Ruby assumed, apprehension at the sight of the knife.
‘Yeah well, next time you should fuckin’ check first,’ she said, pulling her clothes away from the side of the bed while still holding onto the knife.
When she had moved a good distance from him, she scooped up her clothing, dashed to the bathroom and locked the door so she could put her clothes back on. Once she was fully dressed, she emerged from the bathroom, still pointing the knife at the man in case he should try anything else.
‘I take it we’re finished for tonight then?’ he asked, unfazed.
‘Too fuckin’ right we are!’ said Ruby, throwing him a look that would cut through steel.
‘In that case I’m afraid I won’t be paying you.’
‘Stick your dodgy money up your fuckin’ arse,’ raged Ruby before striding through the room and out the door.
*
When Ruby arrived home, Tiffany was letting a bald, middle-aged man out of the flat. She raised her eyebrows inquisitively at Ruby as she walked past her while Tiffany said goodbye to the client and locked the door.
‘I didn’t expect you back so soon,’ said Tiffany as soon as she found Ruby in the lounge.
‘I’ve had enough for tonight. I’ve just picked up a right fuckin’ weirdo who thought I was having a bit of S&M,’ said Ruby.
‘Really? Did you tell him where to go?’
‘What do you think?’ asked Ruby, cynically.
‘Umm. I hope he didn’t hurt you.’
‘Not too much but my bloody arse is still stinging.’
‘Really? The cheeky bastard!’
Ruby Page 5
