‘I … I … um ... you had something on your face.’ I pursed my lips and blinked as he stiffened his shoulders. We stood still. An ice-cream van played, ‘Girls And Boys Come Out To Play’; its eerie chimes echoed along the street.
‘Come on. We’d better get back. Shouldn’t you be at school? Oh, forgot: you bunked off. Where d’you go?’
‘To the doc’s.’
‘Women’s trouble is it?’ He laughed then turned to me, his face serious with what he had assumed. ‘You’re too young, so don’t.’
How could he know I’d gone to get the pill? The thought of it brought heat to my face, as it did when my doctor told me that I was too young. Matthew took my hands and squeezed them together in a kneading motion and said, ‘Don’t let him ruin your life. You’re too young to get tied down. Believe me; I know what I’m talking about.’
My skin crept with cold from the ghost of his wife. He walked to the window to open it. The light cast him in silhouette, and his strong outline stirred excitement and fear in me. Fear of what he could do to me. Excitement at what that would mean.
‘Time to go, Raven. D’you, mind me calling you Raven? It suits you. All your beautiful long wavy hair.’ He lifted a strand and rubbed its silkiness. Before I answered, he strode out of the room saying, ‘This room’s too bloody stuffy.’
He crashed downstairs, so unlike Frankie’s gentle manner. I promised myself that when Frankie got back, he’d be the only one for me. Matthew had to be forgotten.
Chapter 15
Monday, 25 MAY 1970
A blob with pupil-less eyes and a toothless mouth made of bright pink bubble-gum floated through my dream. Its semi-formed shape fought a battle to reach an unknown goal. Reaching for it, I attempted to pin on the eyes and ears I’d stolen from Frankie. Curled in my dream-bed, snug beneath candyfloss sheets, Frankie slid into a tank where hundreds of purple tadpoles surrounded him. Each had an eel-like tail, with a barbed end flicking in frustration. They swam towards him as he drowned, his fish-mouth gasping for air, and his hands groped for mine, but fear rendered me unresponsive to his predicament. Jolting awake, I gasped for breath as sweat ran over me.
Thoughts of yesterday’s visits to the doctor and Matthew’s house rushed in as I made for the bathroom. A long walk through the countryside should restore some balance to my soul, I told myself. It was my birthday; I was sixteen.
***
Frankie was back! He’d left a message with Sarah that I must go to Oaktree House at six o’clock to celebrate my birthday. Thora has gone on a cruise, he’d said, and he’d moved in until she returned.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ he teased as he opened the door. ‘Here she is, the birthday girl. Sweet sixteen.’ He kissed me then abruptly let me go. ‘Better not get into that, sweetheart. Now, where did I put your birthday present …’
I followed him into the kitchen. The table was covered with crumbs and dirty crockery and told the story of a shared meal.
‘And now,’ he mimicked as he played a drum roll on his leg. He picked up a square box and handed it to me.
It had to be an engagement ring. Savouring the moment, I asked him, ‘Do you want to say something first?’
‘Say something first? Um, happy birthday – again.’
‘You’re a tease, Frankie! I’ll remind you of this one day.’
He seemed more confused than excited, and I felt idiotic. It wasn’t a ring. The box was too flat and heavy. Much too heavy. But tearing off the wrapping did reveal a jeweller’s box, lavish, solid, with the maker’s name in gold lettering.
‘Open it; it’s not a bomb.’
Inside was a heavy gold chain with a solid, heart-shaped locket and a padlock closure. The gold necklace my mother bought me hung around my neck; the ‘C’ shaped charm was flimsy.
‘Frankie it’s beautiful! I love it. Thank you, darling.’ I threw my arms around him and kissed him, breathing in his intoxicating smell.
‘Glad you like it. Let me help you.’ He took the box and lifted the chain from its cushion. ‘You’ll have to take the other one off.’
‘Do I have to? Mum bought it, so I want to keep it on.’
‘She mentioned she was buying you a necklace.’
‘Did she? When did you talk to Mum?’
Mum loved talking to Frankie on the phone. She giggled like a schoolgirl, reluctant to pass him to me. She kept telling me that he was charming and quite a catch.
‘I phoned her to check what you’d like.’
‘So now I have two necklaces.’
‘You’re a woman, Carol. You need jewellery. Ask any woman.’ He moved behind me and looped the chain around my neck. Then he unclasped mum’s chain and dropped it on the table. ‘Gorgeous. Look in the hallway mirror.’
The large locket sat amongst heavy gold links. All I could think was, He loves me.
‘It opens. Let me show you.’ He slid his finger along the edge of the heart and eased the two sides apart. The look of concentration on his face, so close, so intent on pleasing me, was thrilling. ‘You need a picture of us to put inside.’
‘We’ll get someone to take one. Maybe when Perry comes …’
‘Perry’s not coming here. Don’t need him poking about. I’ll manage things.’
Back in the kitchen, I placed my mother’s chain around my neck.
‘You can’t wear both.’ His sharp voice jarred. ‘It looks odd. They clash.’
‘Clash? How? They’re both made of gold.’ Holding his against my lips, I smiled assertively; I would do what I wanted.
‘Mine’s a special gift. I want you to wear it on its own.’ He was telling me what to do again, but he wasn’t going to get away with it.
‘Not today. I’m wearing both.’ I released the heart from my grip and let it drop onto my throat.
‘Okay. For today, birthday girl. But wear mine on its own when we’re together.’
‘When will I get the chance to wear my mum’s chain?’
He registered the implication and pulled me into his arms, saying, ‘I have a feisty one here. Okay, sweetheart. You’re the boss.’
He kissed my cheek and ran his hands around to my bottom. I disengaged myself. ‘Has someone been here?’
‘No. Why d’you ask?’
‘Two cups, two saucers, two plates.’
‘I'm lazy. Anyway, you’re early. I said six.’
‘Thought I’d surprise you. Don’t let me stop you doing the washing-up.’
‘You’re here now, so …’
I smacked his arm and we grappled in laughter as he tickled me. His hands moved near my breasts, and I pushed him away, asking, ‘Where are you taking me?’
‘You choose. It’s your day.
‘Chewton Lakes, then. South of here, about six miles. There’s a nice pub in Chewton.’
‘Chewton Lakes it is. Whatever my birthday girl wants she gets.’
***
Frankie was driving us home and had turned off the main road.
‘Where are we going?’ I'd been dozing, unsure where we were.
‘Back to Oaktree.’
‘It’s late, Frankie. I need to get home.’
‘It’s too early for the birthday girl to go home.’
Slumped in a woozy, happy state, I watched branches whiz past as the headlights swept along the lane, creating the sensation of us drifting in a verdant light show.
‘Have another drink. The night is young.’ Frankie rubbed his hand along my thigh and under the hem of my skirt. I didn’t push him away.
In the kitchen, I filled a glass with water.
‘Here. Have some vodka.’ He picked up a bottle of colourless liquid.
‘Vodka. Is it alcoholic?’
‘No, it’s like water.’
Taking the glass, I sipped, ‘Oh? Then I’ll stick to water.’ I giggled.
‘Don’t be boring on your birthday. You’re sixteen. The world is yours. You can get married.’
My heart skipped a beat. He was going to ask me
to marry him after all. Pure happiness heated my blood. Frankie was lovely, and I loved him – he was gorgeous and lovely, and I needed to get very close to him. I removed my jacket.
‘That’s more like it. Relax, darling.’ He took me in his arms and kissed me so hard I couldn’t breathe, but I liked it. He picked me up, and I giggled; I couldn’t stop giggling as he walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He put me down beside his bed.
‘I need the bathroom,’ I said.
‘Don’t take too long.’
I returned to find his room full of candles. They flickered enticingly, reminding me of the safety of the church, and hymns, and Christmas. Frankie was naked on the bed. He pushed himself up onto his elbow. ‘At last, sweetheart. What kept you?’
‘Nothing,’ I said as I lay down beside him and pulled his golden face to mine.
Chapter 16
Sunday, 14 June 1970
Frankie’s naked back curved away from me as I traced my fingers softly along his spine. He trembled but didn’t wake. The past three weeks had been a blur of kissing, hand-holding and lovemaking. I wondered why I had ever worried about ‘doing it’, and was pleased to be grown-up at last. I couldn’t stop smiling to myself, and Frankie admonished me, saying that I was competing with the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. Sarah couldn’t look me in the eye for the first week but had finally accepted that Frankie and I were a couple. Each day I’d crossed my fingers and hoped that Thora stayed away on her cruise. She’d said that she might island-hop somewhere in the South Pacific and come back on a different ship. She could be gone forever, I thought, and I could be waking up in bed with Frankie forever.
The telephone was ringing. I groaned, knowing that it would be my mum and what she would be calling to say.
The cool morning air seeped around me as I slipped on one of Frankie’s discarded shirts and went out onto the landing. Sarah looked out of the bedroom opposite and gave me a resigned smile before retreating. I crept downstairs. Frankie had fought with Denny last night at Mother’s fiftieth birthday party. Frankie's bloodied clothes lay abandoned on the hallway floor. The sight of them reminded me of all the shouting. My head hurt as I remembered Denny’s ugly face, angry and snarling, and the disgusting language he’d shouted. Lies about Frankie kissing his girlfriend. As if he’d kiss that ugly bitch when we were in the next room. If he had, I would have killed him. Sally would spread the details all over the estate. I’d be a laughing stock.
Rosemary had slunk around revelling in the assertion that Frankie found her attractive. A sly, winking expression on her face as she watched Denny jostle in drunken anger against the cool detachment of my Frankie. Mum would not allow any explanation from Denny that painted Frankie as anything less than perfect.
The ringing had stopped, so I waited and grabbed the phone as soon as it rang again.
‘Carol, is that you?’
‘Yes, Mum.’
‘Where’s Thora?’
‘Over at Mr Cutler’s. They’re planning a kitchen-garden project for Perry.’ The lie slipped out easily.
‘Now, before I forget, Peter says he can’t employ you anymore. You’ve missed too many shifts.’
‘Well, it’s no loss, is it? I wasn’t any good at it.’
‘You weren’t any good because you didn’t apply yourself, young lady! And no, it’s no great loss because someone who needs a job now has one.'
‘Well, that’s sorted then, Mum. Shall we forget it?’
‘Carol you’re exasperating. Your wages are here waiting for whenever you decide to come home. And Mr Jessop stopped me at the supermarket yesterday saying that you’d missed school. Where are the letters they’ve written because I’ve not seen any?’
‘Well, if I’m not staying on there’s no point in my going.’
‘Not staying? For heaven’s sake, girl! You said you wanted to be an interior designer and Peter said he’d help with that. Have you changed your mind again?’
‘No. It’s just that … Can we talk when I get back?’
‘We will, young lady, mark my words. Anyway, how’s Frankie? What did the hospital say? Sorry I couldn’t stay.’
‘You didn’t need to. I can manage Frankie. Matthew drove us home, and Sarah and Alice stayed over.’
‘That was good of Matthew. I must thank him. What did the doctor say?’
‘His nose isn’t broken, just swollen. And no concussion, but we have to go back if he starts being sick or something. He has a black eye and a couple of stitches in his eyebrow. He may have a little scar there.’
‘Oh no! Not on his handsome face. My God! He has such a handsome face.’
‘Yes, Mum, he does – but it’s fine.’ Mum’s words irritated with their intimacy about Frankie’s looks. ‘He says he’s not worried and it’ll make him look tough.’
‘Oh, I can’t believe Denny! After Frankie arranged everything and paid, and then he does that, I just … Where on earth did Denny get the idea that Frankie would kiss a tart like Rosemary Major? Oh, wait until I see him!’
‘So it’s okay for your son to go with her, but not Frankie?’
‘What? Oh, Denny’s not going to marry her, is he? He’s just … having fun.’
‘Fun? He’s sleeping with her.’
‘We don’t know that. Anyway, perhaps I’ll question him about that as well. We don’t want her sort in our family.’
‘Don’t be hard on him, Mum. It was a misunderstanding. Frankie didn’t help by saying Rosemary was attractive. He was irritating Denny.’
‘Well, that’s a fine thing to say about your boyfriend. Denny’s not perfect. He’s got a temper on him …’
‘I’m not saying –’
‘You’d do well to remember where your loyalties lie, young lady.’
‘I do … I –’
‘Let me speak to Thora and apologise.’
‘I told you, she’s gone to Mr Cutler’s.’
‘Oh yes.’ Mum paused, and I could almost hear her thought process. ‘I haven’t spoken to Thora for ages. Is she okay?’
‘She’s fine.’
‘Well, tell her that I apologise on behalf of my hot-headed son who needs a smack …’
‘I’ll tell her.’ I jumped as Frankie reached around me and took the handset.
‘Melissa. Good morning. How are you?’ He turned his back to me as he stepped away. I remembered how he had flirted with her before, and how he kept saying how good she looked for her age. Ten years younger, easily, with a figure wasted on an old goat like Peter Philips. ‘No, don’t you waste your time, Melissa. I’m fine. Yes. Don’t be too hard on Denny. I’d be the same if I thought someone was messing with Carol. Yes. You have a beautiful daughter. We both know where she gets those charming looks from, don’t we? No, I’m not teasing you. Why don’t you and Peter come over for lunch on Sunday? Of course Thora will be here. She’ll be delighted. Okay, and don’t worry, I’ll survive. I’ve had worse playing rugby. And I have Thora and Carol spoiling me. See you Sunday about one – no, let’s make it twelve, and we’ll have a swift half in the Cleave Inn first. It’s a date, Melissa. Bye.’ He replaced the telephone and dropped onto the stairs. ‘Phew. She wanted to come over now.’
‘She’s going to turn up one day and find out Thora’s not here. And that we’re … um … together. You invited her for lunch on Sunday, or did I misunderstand?’
‘Ah, but I’ll have a bad headache Sunday and cancel.’
‘But they’ll see each other soon, and we’ll be in trouble when they work out what we’ve been doing.’ I sat next to him and touched his swollen face, gently running my fingers across his cheek.
‘Don’t worry about it. What your mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her. She abandons you when she stays at Peter’s, so it’s her lookout if you get up to mischief.’
‘Yes, but –’
‘Stop worrying, my naughty girl. Your mum is easy to charm. If she finds out, I’ll just have to make an honest woman of you.’ He pulled me close a
nd kissed me and kept kissing me to stop me arguing with him until I moved against his nose.
‘Ouch! That hurts!’ He gently pressed it.
‘Don’t do that. I’ll get you a cold flannel.’
‘You do that, sweetheart. And while you’re about it, a cup of tea and some aspirin. Then come back to bed and see if you can do something to take my mind off this pain.’
‘Behave! … I didn’t know you played rugby.’
‘I don’t. Wouldn’t look this good if I’d let a bunch of hooligans at me. Now hurry up.’ He slapped my bottom as I headed for the kitchen.
Chapter 17
Sunday, 14 June 1970
When we eventually went down, Sarah and Alice were clearing away their breakfast things.
‘Hope you were okay sharing that room?’ I asked as I put water in the kettle and washed the teapot. Frankie liked his tea freshly brewed.
‘Yes. Fine.’ Sarah sat as Alice left the room.
‘What’s up?’ I whispered.
She shrugged and picked at some crumbs. A horn tooted and Alice rushed back in.
‘Thanks for letting me stay, Carol. Have to go. Dad’s waiting. See you.’
‘That’s okay. Bye, Alice. See you soon.’ She slammed the door and the sound vibrated through the hallway.
‘What happened?’ I asked Sarah again.
‘Nothing. We had a row. Well, not a row, just a sort of …’
‘Disagreement?’
‘Yes.’
‘What about?’ I didn’t want to know. Sarah could be so strait-laced and proper. I imagined her chastising Alice for drinking too much. I made the tea, glad that she didn’t reply.
‘Morning, girls. How are my two favourite girls in the whole world today?’
Sarah giggled and blushed. ‘How’s your face, Frankie?’
‘It’s sore Sarah. Come and give it a little kiss to make it better.’
‘Stop teasing her, Frankie. Go and chop some wood.’
‘What do we need wood for?’
Killing The Girl Page 7
