13
February 1992
For weeks Trina followed her mother’s advice and kept her distance from the Gallaghers and their friends. Trina had started hanging out in the local park rather than in the streets near to her home, hoping she would be safer there. Laura and Holly sometimes came with her but Jessica wouldn’t have anything to do with her since the day Kyle and his friends attacked her.
The first time Trina bumped into Jessica after the attack, Trina could see the panic in Jessica’s eyes.
‘My mam says I can’t hang around with you anymore,’ she said. ‘I was beaten up because of you.’
Her tone was more resigned than hostile. She seemed timid as though she had finally been defeated, and Trina felt a pang of guilt knowing she had deserted her when Kyle and his friends had attacked. Despite how cruel Jessica had been to her in the past, even she didn’t deserve that.
Trina didn’t know what to say. An apology didn’t feel appropriate; neither did an aggressive retort. So, instead, she shrugged and walked away.
After that day, she rarely saw Jessica outside. When she did see her, she was usually accompanied by adults. It made Trina realise just how much the attack by Kyle and his friends must have shaken Jessica. Trina was worried about further reprisals from the boys and took care to keep away from them.
It was several weeks later when they finally caught up with her. Trina had carried on hanging out in the park but she had become complacent as time passed by. So, when Kyle and his friends appeared in the park, they took her completely by surprise.
Trina was with Laura, sitting on a grass verge at the edge of some bushes, facing each other as they chatted about friends, school and their families. Trina remembered glancing admiringly at Laura’s straight blonde hair. She would have loved to have had hair like that.
But Laura didn’t seem so fixated on her. Instead she was looking over Trina’s shoulder at something behind her. Then Trina noticed the shocked expression that appeared on Laura’s face. She turned around to see what had surprised her friend.
By the time Trina spotted Kyle Gallagher with two of his mates, Laura was already up on her feet. It was common knowledge amongst all the local kids that he was out to get Trina. She turned back round and also sprang to her feet, the shock of seeing Kyle making her temporarily indecisive about whether to stay or run. The sight of Laura sprinting through the park spurred Trina into action and she set off after her friend.
But Trina wasn’t fast enough. Within no time the boys had surrounded her and there was no way past them. Trina looked desperately at Laura’s retreating back.
‘Fetch help!’ she shouted.
Then she looked at the boys: Kyle, with a cruel sneer on his face, and his two friends. The three of them were equally intimidating; all bigger than Trina, all nasty looking and all ready for revenge.
It was the first time Trina had been frightened of other kids. She was so used to being the intimidating one. But these three weren’t part of her usual social circle. They were older, bolder and much more ruthless.
Even fear of her father didn’t compare to this. With her father she could usually anticipate the outcome of his wrath; a sharp slap on the thighs or a good shouting at. She’d grown so used to it while he was at home that the rapidly pounding heartbeat had dissipated with each occurrence.
But this was different. She didn’t know what to expect, only that it would be bad. And as she stared at the callous faces of the boys, she felt not only her own rapid heartbeat, but a strange sensation in her mouth. The taste of fear. It felt as though her throat had constricted while her tongue swelled and her breath shortened, and she gulped in air, desperately trying to feed her lungs.
The boys dragged her into the bushes so they were off the main pathway and out of view. Then she felt the first blow, which was quickly followed by others. A volley of punches, slaps and kicks around her head and body. Each blow felt sharper than the last and she cried tears of pain and humiliation as they rained punches down on her and tore at her clothes.
Trina quickly realised with startling clarity that this was more than just a playground tussle. It was a terrifying and devastating assault by three cruel boys who knew no bounds. Despite her fear, Trina didn’t give in without a fight. Even as the attack was taking place she spat at them, clawing at their faces and calling them foul names, which just made them hurt her even more.
Prior to the incident, Trina had felt that she was as tough as any boy, but now she couldn’t escape the physical differences. And she detested that failing. When she realised that fighting back wasn’t helping her, Trina begged them to stop. But her anguished pleas were met by sniggers and excited squeals; her distress reflected in their whoops of joy.
Then Kyle pulled out a knife and thrust it at her. Trina knew it had pierced her skin. She didn’t feel pain at first; just a dull sensation as the knife sliced across her face. She instinctively put her hands up to her cheeks then pulled one away to examine it. It was covered in blood. Trina let out an agonised yelp, which sounded like an animal in pain.
The boys ran, leaving behind a traumatised ten-year-old child, sobbing into blood-soaked hands. She had been marked by the attack both physically and emotionally.
*
Daisy was enjoying some valuable time with her sons, helping her youngest, Tyler, with his colouring book while her older two sons drew pictures. When she heard a loud knock at the door, she tutted, not welcoming the intrusion, which meant she had to leave her sons while she answered it. Before she even got to the door, somebody knocked again, this time even louder.
‘Alright, alright, I’m coming,’ she shouted as she bustled down the hall.
She was surprised to see Laura on the doorstep, out of breath and tearful.
‘Some boys have got Trina in the park,’ she panted. ‘Kyle Gallagher and some others.’
As soon as she heard Kyle’s name and linked it to Laura’s troubled state, Daisy became alarmed.
‘Wait there!’ she said.
Then she dashed back into the living room, told Ellis and Jarell she had to go out and left them to look after Tyler while she hurried from the house.
‘Come on,’ she said to Laura, rushing up the street, ‘show me where they are.’
They soon arrived at the park and Laura took Daisy to the spot where they had been when the boys arrived. But there was no sign of Trina.
‘It was definitely around here,’ said Laura, growing more tearful as she searched around in vain for her friend.
Daisy glanced around the park, frantically hoping to catch sight of her daughter but she couldn’t see her anywhere.
‘Are you sure this is where you were when the boys caught up with her?’ asked Daisy.
‘I think so,’ said Laura, looking anxiously up and down the pathway as though hoping it would tell her something. ‘It was about this far from the gate.’
Daisy realised that, to Laura, there was nothing along the pathway to differentiate one spot from another. It all looked the same; a wide pathway with a field on one side and a grass verge on the other, bordered by bushes. At a loss for what else to do, she began to shout Trina’s name. Laura followed suit and, as they shouted, they wandered up and down the pathway taking care not to go too far from the area Laura had indicated.
At one point Daisy thought she heard a voice. ‘Shush,’ she said to Laura, then she called Trina’s name again and listened for a response.
Daisy could just about discern a voice calling, ‘here’ but it was frail and she wasn’t sure whether it belonged to her daughter. She followed the direction of the voice and called Trina’s name again.
‘Here. In the bushes,’ came the faint reply.
This time there was no mistaking her daughter’s voice and, with a feeling of trepidation, she headed into the bushes with Laura following her. Daisy could feel the tension within her escalating, her mind full of worries about what she might find. Then she spotted her.
Trina was kne
eling down on the muddy ground, her jeans covered in soil and twigs. Her top was torn from the shoulder down, exposing her inadequate child’s vest which clung to the outline of a tiny, pert breast. There was a further rip lower down but Daisy was drawn to the area above her daughter’s shoulders. Trina was holding blood-soaked hands over her face and Daisy could see the blood seeping through her fingers.
‘Oh my God!’ yelled Daisy, shocked. ‘What have they done to my poor girl?’
Daisy saw how her daughter’s tear-filled eyes narrowed at her reaction, and she quickly tried to compose herself, knowing that she needed to be strong for Trina.
She pulled Trina’s hands away so she could examine her face, noticing that her hands were covered in mud as well as blood. She flinched at the sight of a large open wound that cut across one side of Trina’s face, and was worried that her daughter might already have contaminated it with her muddy hands. It was still pumping blood and Daisy quickly lifted the hem of her skirt and held it to the wound, pressing it at either side to stem the flow. Trina screeched in pain.
‘It’s alright. Shush, my child,’ said Daisy, soothingly. ‘I need to stop the blood. Then everything will be just fine.’
She could see Trina tense as she tried to be brave and hold back the tears, and a deep hurt blazed within her. Trina, her precious, only daughter. What had she done to deserve this? Her only crime was in trying to protect her younger brothers as any good sister would do. And as Daisy thought about the lasting damage that this attack would have on her daughter, she struggled to contain her own tears.
But she tried to put her heartrending thoughts to one side. She needed to focus on one thing at a time. Daisy felt sure that a wound that size would need stitches but she wanted to stem the blood loss first. After that, she would need to get Trina to hospital. And once the professionals had patched her daughter up, then she would think about how to deal with the fallout.
14
February 1992
Daisy looked across at her daughter who was playing with her younger brother, Tyler, and trying her best to act as if everything was alright. But Daisy knew it wasn’t. As she took in her daughter’s damaged face for the umpteenth time since they had returned from the hospital, she felt a profound sadness. She knew that her daughter would be scarred for life, and that the mental scars would run much deeper than the physical one.
The doctor had said that the wound was three centimetres in length and deep. Therefore, there had been no alternative but to stitch it once they had cleaned it. Daisy had admired her daughter’s bravery; the way she had clenched her teeth and balled her hands into fists to fight back her tears as the nurse stitched her up.
At the moment the wound looked bad, but the medical staff had assured both Daisy and Trina that it would eventually fade. Unfortunately, this had given Trina false hope that it might fade to nothing. Daisy hadn’t had the heart to tell her that although it wouldn’t look as bad as it did now, it would always be there. An upsetting reminder of a wicked act.
Daisy hadn’t gone to the police; she didn’t dare. The fear of reprisals was too strong to take that chance. But she knew she had to do something. What sort of mother would she have been if she let this go without taking any action at all? She looked at the clock. Mr Gallagher would still be at work. It was therefore the best time to pay a visit to Mrs Gallagher while her own children were occupied; Trina and Tyler in the house and Ellis and Jarell playing outside. Mrs Gallagher was the least fearsome of the two Gallagher parents but, nevertheless, the thought of visiting her struck fear into Daisy.
‘Trina, I’m just going out for a few minutes. Will you keep an eye on Tyler for me please?’
‘Yeah, sure. Where are you going?’
‘Nowhere important. Don’t worry, I won’t be long.’
She’d chosen not to tell Trina yet, just in case her visit wasn’t fruitful. Nevertheless, Daisy was determined that, now she’d made the decision, she was going to see it through, no matter how daunting it was. She slipped out of the house with her heart hammering inside her chest and soon arrived at the Gallaghers’ home.
Daisy felt anxious as she knocked on the Gallaghers’ front door, anticipating an aggressive reaction from Mrs Gallagher. She became aware once more of her rapidly beating heart and as she lifted the knocker her hands trembled so much she lost her grip on it. The knocker slipped from her hand, landing softly against the door plate and letting out a low, tinny sound. Undeterred, Daisy took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and lifted the knocker again, this time tapping it firmly against the door plate several times.
As Mrs Gallagher opened her front door she looked Daisy up and down with a scowl on her face and Daisy almost lost her nerve. Mrs Gallagher wasn’t imposing in the physical sense, as she was slight in frame and a bit shorter than Daisy, but she had the harsh, pinched features of someone used to doing battle. Her whole demeanour was aggressive, from the narrowed eyes and clenched jaw to the balled fists and irate tone of voice.
‘What do you want?’ she demanded.
‘Hello, Mrs Gallagher,’ said Daisy, trying to disguise the tremor in her voice. ‘I’ve come about your son, Kyle.’
Mrs Gallagher tutted. ‘I might have known,’ she said. ‘He’s always getting the blame for summat.’ She sighed dramatically as though bored of complaints about her son. ‘What is it now?’
‘He’s attacked my daughter, Trina.’
‘Well, she must have done something to deserve it.’
‘There was a bit of trouble with your other son, Shaun, so I think Kyle was retaliating but…’
Mrs Gallagher jumped in before Daisy had chance to finish speaking. ‘That’s it then. She must have done summat to Shaun for my Kyle to attack her. Anyway, what do you mean by attack? They’re only bleedin’ kids when all said and done.’
‘It was him and his friends.’
‘And have you been to see their parents? I bet you bleedin’ haven’t, have you? No, it’s always my Kyle that gets the blame. Talk about give a dog a bad name…’
This time Daisy cut in. She was getting tired of Mrs Gallagher’s diatribe and her irritation emboldened her. ‘I don’t know who his friends are. Perhaps he could tell you. But he was the one with the knife.’
Daisy could see the stunned look on Mrs Gallagher’s face. ‘Knife! What the fuck you talking about, knife?’
‘Kyle cut Trina quite badly. She had to have stitches for a deep cut on her cheek.’
‘You’re joking!’ said Mrs Gallagher, staring at Daisy, her mouth and eyes wide with shock.
‘I wish I was,’ said Daisy, her tone measured as she tried to stay calm. ‘The doctors say she’ll be scarred for life.’
Mrs Gallagher reached a hand forward and placed it on Daisy’s forearm. The gesture of concern surprised Daisy. ‘You sure it was my Kyle?’ she asked.
‘Definitely,’ said Daisy. ‘Trina knows him, and her friend saw them attack Trina too.’
‘For shit’s sake!’ said Mrs Gallagher. ‘I don’t fuckin’ believe it. What next?’
It was obvious to Daisy that the other woman was shocked and appalled at what her son had done. It seemed like she had a whole heap of troubles on her mind. Daisy felt bad at bringing even more trouble to her door and for a moment she was tempted to utter an apology. But then she checked herself. After all, Trina was the victim, not Kyle, so she stayed silent and waited for Mrs Gallagher to speak again.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘Leave it with me. I’ll sort Kyle out. And I’ll find out which of his bleedin’ mates were with him as well.’
‘Thank you,’ said Daisy and she was about to walk away until she realised that Mrs Gallagher hadn’t given her any real assurances. ‘Trina’s very nervous about going outside,’ she said. ‘She’s worried that the boys might attack her again.’
‘They won’t,’ Mrs Gallagher bit back. ‘Don’t you fuckin’ worry! I’ll take care of that.’
Daisy realised that this was the best she could expect fro
m a woman like Mrs Gallagher. There was no point waiting for an apology so she thanked her again and returned home, relieved that the encounter was over and at least she had achieved something. In fact, the meeting had gone much better than she could have expected. As she reflected on things on her way home she realised that it was probably because the boys had crossed a line that even someone with Mrs Gallagher’s fearsome reputation wouldn’t tread.
Daisy didn’t tell Trina about the outcome of her visit to Mrs Gallagher straightaway. She wanted Trina to stay indoors a bit longer to give her time to come to terms with what had happened before she faced the cruel world outside. It was two days later when she decided to broach the subject.
‘Trina, you don’t need to worry about going out anymore,’ she began. ‘Kyle Gallagher and his friends will leave you alone now.’
‘Why? Have the police been to see them?’
‘Not exactly, no,’ said Daisy, sighing as she wondered how best to word this. ‘Let’s just say I have Mrs Gallagher’s word that they’ll leave you alone.’
‘Oh,’ said Trina, seemingly disappointed, and Daisy felt as though she had to add some more comforting words.
‘They won’t come near you now, but if any of them says anything I want you to tell me straightaway. I’m sure they won’t though.’
Trina just nodded and carried on with what she was doing.
*
Later that day Trina decided to venture outdoors. The first people she bumped into were Jessica and Laura. It was obvious from Jessica’s reaction that Laura had told her about what had happened and, instead of avoiding her as she usually did, Jessica stopped to talk.
‘It’s quite big, isn’t it?’ she said.
Trina was surprised that Jessica hadn’t mentioned her own experience at the hands of Kyle and his friends, and Trina’s unwillingness to get involved. She had expected animosity with Jessica criticising her lack of involvement, perhaps even telling her she deserved what she got. But instead there was a note of empathy in Jessica’s voice and Trina realised that the enormity of what had happened to her surpassed all that had happened previously.
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