by G H Mockford
The drive home was slow and dull, and I began to salivate at the thought of all the goodies in my foot well just begging to be eaten and drunk. Parking up, I took everything into my house and transferred the iPod from my car to my dock. I turned Roy Head up nice and loud.
I took my jacket off and felt the diary in the pocket. It had been there all day. I took it out, tossed the jacket onto the sofa and fell into my chair. Paul had already removed the padlock for me, so I opened the book to the page where the ribbon sat and began to read.
I didn’t notice my stomach growling as I waded through the pages. It was an odd sensation reading such a personal document that wasn’t intended to be read by anyone. I flipped back to the writing at the front. It was a dedication to the love and trust that Charlie felt for her father. He had violated it, and now, so was I. I flipped the diary over, rested it on the arm of the chair and went to cook some food.
When I got into the kitchen, I couldn’t be bothered to wait for my electric oven to heat up, so I made some salad sandwiches. As I spread, sliced and slapped, I thought about what I had read so far. There wasn’t anything incriminating. She talked about the teachers a lot, not just Miss Young, me, and Rollins, but practically everyone else she came into contact with. Having said that, she didn’t mention anyone by name, but I could tell who was who by the accurate, and none too subtle descriptions of us both. I just hoped the one I thought was Rollins was Rollins, and not me!
What did become clear was that she liked a lad in the sixth form. He had been doing the lighting for the performance, but, as with Rollins and me, she referred to him as “him” and never by name. I couldn’t work out if she did it deliberately or not.
I sat back down with my plate of food and an open bottle of cider. I began to munch with my right hand as I held the diary in my left. By the time I had cleared my plate and a bottle of cider, I thought I had worked out what might have happened.
There was a section in which she talked about me, Rollins and the mysterious sixth former, and the word love was used. However, she referred to us all as “he” and while I was reasonably certain it was the sixth former that she loved, I couldn’t be completely sure. If Paul’s anger were already up, I could see how he could easily have jumped to the wrong conclusion.
It was eleven o’clock by the time I'd finished the diary and the other two bottles of cider. I was beginning to feel a little drunk, but I was sure there was no mention of sex, not even in code. There was no mention of being pregnant or even thinking that she might be either – and there would be, surely? Maybe she was worried her dad would find it and so she had held back, but I didn’t think so. She did write about her periods and what she might like to do with the sixth form boy.
I closed the diary and put it in my Wilko’s box. I had to give it back to Paul before Charlie realized it was missing. I turned off the lights and headed up to bed. My mobile phone rang, and I fished it out of my pocket hoping it was Sarah.
It was Paul.
I ignored it and climbed into bed, thinking about which of the three options I was going to choose. Would I track down and confront the sixth former, confront Rollins, or just walk away?
Twenty-Three
Char Blackmore showered and slipped on her favourite pyjamas. She lifted the mattress one more time, and reached in as far as she could, which was pretty much all the way across these days as she’d had the same bed since she was eight.
The diary had gone.
She'd looked before her shower and secretly, and childishly, hoped it would return by the time she came back to her bedroom. But who was she kidding? The diary had gone. She fought the urge to look for a third time. It was missing, and there was only one place it could be.
Her father must have it.
Char couldn’t believe it. It just wasn’t possible. He never came into her room. Why would he want to? And why would he want to even look for the diary in the first place? Had he been secretly reading it ever since she’d got it? Char had been out at Jak’s and had come home with ten minutes to spare before her agreed curfew. Had she caught him by surprise by coming home early? Had he been reading it downstairs?
She lay on the mattress and reached down between the bed and the wall. She found some old magazines and a pair of knickers, but no diary. Maybe she had put it somewhere else. She hadn’t written in it for a while, there was nothing to say, but now with the pregnancy, all that had changed. Char opened the bottom drawer of her bedside cabinet where she kept the key. That wasn’t there either.
Charlie went downstairs and stood in front of the television.
‘Out the way, love, I’m trying to watch Michael Macintyre,’ Paul said, leaning to the left in an attempt to see the TV screen. Char bent down and pulled the plug from the wall. The image winked out.
‘Charlie! I was watching that!’ Paul said.
‘Don’t call me that. It’s Char. How many times do I have to tell you?’
‘What’s got into...’
‘Besides, you’ve seen that show a million times. You spend more time with Michael fucking Macintyre than you do with me.’
‘Charl…Char, I can see you’re angry about something, but please don’t swear at me.’
‘I’m not swearing at you, besides, if you can do what you want, I can do what I want?! I’m almost sixteen in case you’ve forgotten.’
‘What?’ said Paul, shaking his head in utter confusion.
‘You know exactly what. I can’t believe you’ve taken it.’
Charlie watched the blood drain from her father’s face. She’d caught him. ‘So, you have got it? You’re as easy to read as a book, Dad. Not that you’d know what one of those is. Oh, except my private diary! Interesting read was it? Find out what you wanted?’
‘Charl…’ Paul shook his head. ‘Look, I’m sorry. I took it because…’
‘Because what, Dad?’
Her father paused. He was clearly trying to come up with some kind of excuse. ‘Charlie, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.’
‘Oh, so it just fell out from under my bed, walked out of my room and into your hands, and then forced your eyes to look at it?’
‘I was worried about you,’ Paul said as he got up and held out his arms to take her into a cuddle.
‘Worried? What about?’
He didn’t answer her. He stared at his feet.
‘Why didn’t you just talk to me, Dad? I thought we could talk about anything? You bought my first bra, looked after me when I had my first period.’ Char suddenly began to cry. ‘Why didn’t you just talk to me? Why?’
‘Charlotte, come here,’ Paul said as he began to slip his arm around his daughter.
‘Get off me!’ she shouted. Her sobs grew louder as she ran upstairs. She slammed the door so hard it made the whole house shake.
Twenty-Four
I slept well, and all night through, which is quite a rare occurrence. I guess I was still catching up from my misadventures at the weekend. I’d ignored Paul’s phone call and decided if there was a message, and it sounded important, I’d ring him during break. He didn’t bother leaving one, so I didn’t. Obviously he had taken my phone number when he had replaced my shattered handset.
On the way to school, I racked my brains trying to remember the sixth former who had operated the lights for Romeo and Juliet. I couldn’t remember his name, and there was another issue to consider too: was he even studying at Byron anymore? Was he in his first or second year of ‘A’ levels? Or was he doing an ‘AS’ level? Luckily it did give me an excuse to go and see Rollins. I wasn’t sure how I was going to approach the problem as far as he was concerned. There wasn’t an easy way of saying, “Oh, by the way, did you get Charlie Blackmore pregnant?”
After break, I had a free period. I didn’t use it preparing for lessons; instead I spent it preparing to talk to Rollins. And when I say preparing, I mean worrying.
In the end, to take my mind off it, I popped out to Paul’s house as it wasn’t too far a walk fro
m school. I looked up at the building that had been my prison for those twelve hours. It was a plain, ordinary terrace house, but for a while it had been a place of nightmares. What else went on behind the walls of these houses?
I pushed the diary through the post box and left as quickly as I could. When I turned the corner, I realized that by just shoving the diary through the door I had left Paul’s actions open to being discovered by Charlie. It was too late now. I dug my phone out of my pocket and texted Paul in the hope he would get it before Charlie got home.
I got back on the school grounds at the beginning of lunch and headed straight for the Drama Department.
‘Richard,’ I shouted, as I swept my eyes across the large octagonal drama studio for any sign of him.
I jumped as his voice came over the PA system. ‘Up ‘ere!’ I looked up into the lighting and sound booth. There was the top of his head visible through the window. Good. That was as a good a place as any. Private, away from everyone else as long as he had no one else up there with him.
Was that where it happened? There were two lockable doors between the studio floor and the small room with all the decks of switches and sliders, making it a perfect place to hide and have some privacy.
Still without a clue what to say, I threw the black curtains that surrounded the studio to one side, opened the door and marched up the stairs toward Richard Rollins.
He was sat in an office chair; its seat tipped back so he could put his feet on the worktop where the lighting and sound decks were. His foil wrapped sandwiches nestled next to a cup of coffee within quick and easy reach.
‘Ay up, Freeman. Not often, I see you these days. What do you want?’ he asked, before biting into his sandwich.
I quickly decided to start with the sixth former, as it seemed the easiest route in. ‘You know when we did Romeo and Juliet?’ I asked, trying to sound casual.
‘Er, yes,’ he replied like a fourteen-year-old. Clearly I could add childish to the list of words that best described him. ‘How could I forget that particular period in my life? Miss Young and I had a lot of fun.’ He grinned lasciviously, and I remembered how he was meant to have slept with her, or so the staffroom gossip went. She had never confirmed or denied it though.
‘The lad who did the lights? The one who was in the sixth form? What was his name?’ I tried to sound as casual as I could, hoping my acting would stand up to the test once again.
‘Ben. Ben Hunter. Why?’ He dropped the H in the way they do from Hucknall, or should I say ‘ucknall. Now was the critical moment. I could make up some crappy story, or lay the truth on him and see how he reacted. ‘Well?’ he said, annoyance entering his voice as he washed his lunch down with some coffee.
It was in that exact moment that I decided on the latter choice. Let’s see if I could get the bastard to squirm. ‘I’m looking into something,’ I said.
‘Cut the mysterious crap, Freeman,’ he said, as he took his legs off the worktop and placed them on the floor.
‘Ok, but you’ve got to promise not to say anything,’ I said, trying to make him trust me by including him in some big secret.
‘For fucks sake, Freeman, what are we? A couple of girls on the bloody playground? Just spit it out!’
‘He’s been accused of getting a girl pregnant,’ I said.
Rollins didn’t react at first, and then he said matter-of-factly, ‘’Ow pregnant is she?’
‘What do you mean, how pregnant is she? What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Quite a lot actually,’ he smiled. I could tell he knew something that I didn’t, and unfortunately I had to bite and make him feel important.
‘Erm, I don’t know. Not much. A couple of months maybe.’
‘’E must ’ave one hell of a long cock then,’ he said.
‘What?’ I said, half disbelieving what he had just said. I wondered how this man ever got to become a teacher. The answer was easy. He only behaved this way around certain people. If there were women around, especially ones he wanted to sleep with, he was all smiles and style. He was the same whenever leadership was near.
‘’E moved to Leeds, didn’t ’e? Caused a right hoo-ha ’cos ’e was half way through ’is ‘A’ levels and was one of the brightest students. ’E left at ’alf term, the week after we did the play.’
I quickly did the maths. He had gone long before she had become pregnant. It couldn’t be him, but it could still be Rollins. He was back in line for the main suspect.
I looked him straight in the eyes and said, ‘Oh well, there are other suspects.’ I searched his face for a response. A slight flicker of fear, of knowing he’d been had. There was none. Was he innocent or just a good actor?
‘So come on, who is it?’ he asked, his tone suddenly friendly, as he got out of his chair and picked up his coffee.
I stepped back. Maybe he was reacting now, standing up, better prepared to attack me despite his friendly demeanour. Maybe it was to get me to lower my guard as I’d tried with him. ‘What do you mean?’ I asked, my panicked brain not sure if he meant suspects or victim.
‘Which stupid bitch ’as gone and got ’erself pregnant?’ he said with a smile. I wanted to wipe it off, preferably with a punch.
I’d never hurt anyone in my life, and I wasn’t about to start now.
‘Charlie Blackmore.’
‘Who?’
‘Sorry, Char Blackmore. Only her Dad calls her Charlie.’
‘Intimately acquainted are you?’
‘Who, me and Charlie?’
‘No, you prick, you and ’er dad.’
I gathered up my courage and said, ‘I’ve got to know him recently, and he thinks that you’re the one that’s been intimately acquainted with his daughter.’
Twenty-Five
‘What did you say, you cunt?!’ Rollins said in a quiet voice laced with barely controlled anger. In complete contrast, he gently put down his mug of coffee and put his hands on his hips. ‘Just what the fuck are you trying to imply?’ I stepped back as he jabbed me in the chest with his finger. ‘Come on you fucking pussy. What’s your problem? If you’ve got something to say, say it.’
‘Just calm down, Richard,’ I said, raising my hands in a placating gesture.
‘Calm down? You just accused me of sleeping with a fucking fifteen-year-old!’
‘I didn’t… I…’
‘Don’t split ’airs with me you jumped up bastard,’ he said, grabbing the front of my shirt and pulling me closer to him. He spun me around in the enclosed space and threw me down into his chair. It rolled across the floor and slammed into the wall behind me, rapidly followed by my head.
Here we go again, I thought.
‘What’s ’e been saying? I’ll ’ave ’er dad for this!’ he hissed before he grabbed the door handle and slammed the door shut so we were alone and trapped inside. I didn’t have a clue what his next actions would be, but I was getting worried.
‘I hope you didn’t, for your sake.’ I jumped out of the chair and stepped up to him. I was fed up with being pushed around. I may not be a violent person, but I am a big man, and if I knew one thing from teaching mouthy teenagers, it’s that “being ‘ard” was mostly an act. Besides, I’d laid a good few blows on Paul, and Rollins was a pipsqueak compared to him.
‘Oh yeah, why?’ replied Richard as he stepped back, surprised by my sudden transformation from lamb to wolf.
I seized the advantage while I could, just as I’d learned from before, but this time I wasn’t going to give up, or back down. ‘See this?’ I said pointing to the black eye and wishing Paul had hurt me a little bit more. ‘He did this to me, thinking I was you. He was in the SAS for years; I’m lucky to be alive.’
‘Bollocks,’ he replied, trying to sound disbelieving, but I could tell I had his attention.
‘Want to know why I didn’t come to the pub on Friday?’
‘Because you’re not man enough to give Smart Alec one, even though she’s clearly begging for it?’ he sai
d with a sneer.
And that’s when the floodgates finally gave way, when the thin strand that was holding me together finally snapped and I almost lost it. ‘Listen to me you arse. What happened to me on Friday night would have had you crying like a fucking baby. Shitting your pants. He attacked me in my car, took me to his home and tortured me.’ To my pleasure, Rollins went white as a sheet and sat down on the worktop.
‘Tortured you?’ he said with equal parts fear and morbid fascination.
‘Yeah, nearly cut my bollocks off.’ I exaggerated again, although there was a moment when I really thought he might. ‘And we both know how attached you are to yours, Richard. I hope for your sake you didn’t touch her.’
‘Of course I bloody didn’t, what do you take me for?’
‘I really don’t know Richard, I really don’t. He’s a big man. You can’t miss him. I’d watch your back if I were you. If you did do it, you better go and tell Arnold right now. I think you’ll be safer that way.’ I opened the door and prepared to leave.
‘’ow did you get away from ’im?’
‘I managed to convince him that it wasn’t me.’
‘You didn’t tell ’im it was me, did you?’ I just looked at him. ‘I didn’t touch ’er,’ he said, ‘I swear.’ He sounded pathetic. The man was clearly full of even more crap than we all thought he was.
‘I hope so, I do, for your sake because if I find out you did, I’ll be telling her dad where you live. I’ve given you a warning, so if you did do it, you had better make things right, not that I’m sure you ever could.’
I walked out of the door and closed it behind me. As soon as I was free I took a deep breath, made my way downstairs, burst through the curtains, and headed for the nearest staff toilet. I felt dizzy and sick, but also proud of myself. Not including the other day, when I thought I was fighting for my life, this was probably the first time I’d ever stood up for myself. It wasn’t because I was a coward, but because it was the first time I’d actually had to.
