The Look of Love

by David George Richards

She was the last one of her friends to see Jo alive.

  “Oh, shit! Shit! Shit! It was my fault!”

  “No, it’s my fault…,” Victoria muttered between sobs. “Chrissy was right…I killed Jo…”

  Louise realised that she had spoken out loud what she had thought she was only thinking.

  “At least you were drunk!” she said in despair. “You had an excuse. I was sober. I watched her walk away with that boy, the boy that might have killed her. I saw him. I saw him! And I didn’t do anything!”

  “It wasn’t you, it was me!” Victoria said with more emotion. “I ruined everything that night! I split everyone up! It was my fault, just like Chrissy said!”

  “But you were drunk, Vikki! You didn’t know what you were doing! You didn’t mean to get into a fight with Chrissy and Scott! And it wasn’t you that killed her!”

  Victoria looked up at Louise, her face twisted in anger. “Yes I did, you idiot!” she snarled hysterically. “Don’t you see? I wanted to break Chrissy and Scott up! I did it on purpose! I hated him, like I hate them all! And I did the same to Jo and Max! I got rid of him! He was a disgusting selfish git like all the rest! It might have been another git of a man that did it, but it was still my fault Jo was killed!”

  The taxi had arrived outside the house, and as soon as it drew to a halt, Victoria burst out the door and ran inside. Louise got out, slammed the door, and chased after her.

  Victoria had bounded up the stairs and was rattling on the door to the flat trying to get inside. By the time Louise caught up with her, she was banging and kicking on the door in desperation, still crying and now screaming to be let in. Louise opened the door with the key and Victoria darted inside. She ran straight to her bedroom and slammed the door.

  Louise was about to follow when she heard a voice behind her.

  “Whatever’s the matter?” Rosanna said in astonishment. “I heard all the screaming and banging and came straight away.”

  Louise put her hands to her face and wailed, “Oh, Rosie! One of the girls from Uni has been murdered! I knew her! She was in my class! And I was with her on Friday!”

  “Oh, God!”

  Rosanna ran up the stairs and grabbed Louise, hugging her tightly. “You poor thing! You must be in shock! Come inside and sit down.”

  Louise broke away. “No! It’s Vikki! She’s blaming herself because she was drunk on Friday night and because she split everyone up! She’s hysterical, and I don’t know what to do!”

  Rosanna grabbed Louise’s hand and pulled her along. They went straight to Victoria’s bedroom. The door was bolted. Rosanna banged on it.

  “Victoria? Open this door!” she demanded.

  “No! Go away!” Victoria screamed back.

  “Open it, or we’ll break it down!”

  “Get lost!”

  Rosanna turned to Louise. “Dave taught me this,” she said with a smile, and leaning on Louise’s shoulder, she raised her left foot and slammed her heel against the door. The door burst open with a splintering of wood. Louise stared in surprise.

  Inside the bedroom, Victoria was also looking up at the door in surprise. She held her hold-all in one hand; and a half bottle of vodka in the other.

  Rosanna strode into the bedroom. Victoria backed away and screamed at her.

  “Get away from me, you fat cow! Get out! Get out!”

  Rosanna ignored her and grabbed for the bottle. They began to fight over it, and Victoria smacked Rosanna on the head with her hold-all. Rosanna took a step back and punched Victoria on the nose. Victoria let go of the bottle and fell over, bumping into the wardrobe. She lay on the floor in a heap, her hold-all next to her and her nose bleeding.

  Rosanna stood over her, waving the bottle at her. “You won’t find any comfort in this!” she said sternly. “Now pull yourself together, or I’ll give you another wallop.”

  Victoria burst into tears again. “I need it!” she wailed, getting to her knees. “Give it back!” She grabbed for the bottle, but Rosanna held it out of her reach.

  “It’s no good. It doesn’t help and it’s not the answer!”

  “I don’t want to think about what’s happened! Please give it to me! Please! Please!” Victoria begged unashamedly.

  Rosanna held the bottle out to Louise. “Go and poor this down the sink,” she told her.

  “No!” Victoria screamed. She tried to get past Rosanna, but Rosanna pushed her onto the bed and sat on her.

  Louise took the bottle and ran to the sink, her hands shaking as she unscrewed the top and poured it away. Behind her, Rosanna was lying on top of Victoria on the bed. Victoria was screaming and crying.

  “It’s not fair! Why are you all being so rotten to me? I need it! I want to forget what’s happened!”

  “Why? That girl will still be dead when you sober up!” Rosanna said harshly.

  Victoria began to ball and cry like a child. She kicked her feet and tore at the bed-clothes with her hands. “It’s my fault! It’s my fault! I killed Jo! I’m hateful! I’m wicked! I hate me! I hate me!” She began to tear at her own hair, pulling so hard that her scalp almost left her head.

  Rosanna grabbed her hands and forced them down, wrapping her arms around her in the process. She kept Victoria pinned down on the bed as she kicked and struggled, but instead of telling her off, Rosanna began to talk to her more soothingly, telling her that it wasn’t her fault, telling her that there were lots of other horrible, nasty people in this world, and that it was one of them that had killed her friend. At first it had no effect, but gradually, either because she was tiring, or maybe because the sedative was finally working, Victoria began to struggle less. She slowly stopped kicking, her tears came less, and she began to breathe more evenly.

  Rosanna relaxed her grip and began to stroke Victoria’s hair, but she never stopped talking to her. Louise sat on the side of the bed and listened as Rosanna talked.

  “You never know what’s going to happen in life. You could be smiling with the person you love one minute, and the next minute they’re gone in an accident, or murdered alone at night. And it doesn’t matter if you part in a friendly manner, or after an argument. You might think it does, but it doesn’t. And do you know why? Because you never have any control on the decisions other people make. After they leave you, you don’t know what they do, or where they go, or why. They make their own choices. And if they are bad ones, it’s not your fault. You aren’t responsible for what they do, the decisions they make, or how they live their lives. You can advise them, influence them, even out and out cheat them. But in the end, it’s their decision to believe you or ignore you.”

  “But I made Jo split up with her boyfriend,” Victoria muttered in a soft voice. “It was my fault.”

  “Did you tell her to do that?” Rosanna demanded. “Did you say, ‘Leave him, he’s no good’?”

  “No, but I made them argue.”

  Then Louise chipped in, “No you didn’t! You and Max argued! He wanted to go home early but Jo said no. Jo didn’t have to stay with us. She could have gone home with Max, but she didn’t want to! It wasn’t your fault, Vikki! You might be a big pain in the arse when you’re drunk, but Rosie’s right. Jo made her own mind up. She even found another boyfriend!”

  Victoria turned her head and looked up at Louise. “But even if it was like you said, I still started it.”

  “Then I’m just as much to blame as you. I saw Jo with that other boy. I wasn’t drunk. I could have done something, said something. Instead I watched her walk away with him, and a few hours later she was dead.” Louise felt the tears welling up again as she spoke. She couldn’t get that image of Jo smiling at her out of her head.

  Rosanna now spoke to both of them. “Stop it the pair of you. Talking like that will get you nowhere. You can’t out guess the future. You can’t go through life analysing all the consequences of what you do, or say. If you did that you’d never do anything. All you can do is be honest with yourself, and the people you meet. That way at lea
st you can have a clear conscience.”

  “But my conscience isn’t clear,” Victoria muttered sadly.

  Rosanna looked down at her. “Then you’ll have to live with it, and learn from it, won’t you?”

  Louise sniffed the air. “I can smell something burning,” she said.

  Rosanna clapped both her hands to her face and exclaimed, “That bloody toaster!” She leapt from the bed and hurtled out the door.

  Louise and Victoria stood in the doorway of Rosanna’s smoky kitchen while Rosanna beat the living daylights out of the toaster. The toast had been well on fire when they had arrived. Rosanna had pulled the plug out of the wall and smothered the fire with a hastily dampened tea-towel. Now she hurled the recalcitrant appliance into the sink and took her vengeance out on it with a hammer she produced from a drawer.

  “There!” she said with satisfaction when she had finished. “That’s the last piece of toast you ruin! Assassin!” She stuffed the hammer back into the drawer and opened a window. “I’ll clean up later,” she said. She took her key, locked the door, and they all went back upstairs again.

  Louise put the kettle on and made three mugs of coffee while Rosanna helped Victoria with her nose which was still bleeding. They were both sat at the kitchen table, the first aid kit open in front of them.

  “Everyone ‘its me on the dose,” Victoria said holding a wad of cotton-wool to her nose. “I’m supised it’s dot been boken.”

  Rosanna pressed a damp cloth to Victoria’s forehead. “Everyone wants to hit a blonde bimbo on the nose because they’re so damn irritating, and because they’re always on the telly.”

  “That’s dot fair. I’m dot on the delly.”

  “I’m sorry I hit you.”

  “I pobably deserved dit, I usually do. And I’m sorry I called you a fat cow. I didn’t mean dit.”

  Rosanna smiled. “It’s alright. I think it’s stopped now.”

  Victoria took the wad of cotton away from her nose. It had stopped bleeding. She took a deep breath through her mouth and sighed. “I feel very sort of relaxed and sleepy.”

  Louise brought her and Rosanna a mug of coffee. “That will be the sedative. Trust it to work when it’s no longer required.” She got her own mug and sat down next to them.

  Victoria ran her hands through her tangled and frizzed hair. Then she rested her hands on her head. “My scalp aches,” she muttered, somewhat surprised.

  Rosanna put the damp cloth down and picked up her mug. “That’s because you were pulling on your hair so hard. You shouldn’t do that. You’ve got such nice hair.”

  Victoria yawned. “I bet it looks a mess.” She reached for her own mug and took a sip. She was beginning to look dazed.

  Louise suddenly stood up. “I’ll get your brush,” she said, and disappeared into Victoria’s bedroom.

  Rosanna watched Victoria as she sipped her coffee. “Have you always had long hair?” she asked.

  Victoria nodded. “Ever since I was a little girl. Daddy always liked me to have long hair. He used to call me his little dolly.”

  “He must have loved you a lot. I bet you were a very pretty little girl.”

  “Oh, yes, very pretty. And daddy loved his little dolly lots and lots.”

  There was a heavy hint of sarcasm in Victoria’s voice and it made Rosanna pause. Louise had been on her way back with a brush in her hand, but now she also stopped, frozen to the spot as Victoria put down her mug and reached up to her hair, pulling it into two long pigtails on either side of her head. She swayed a little as she held them like that, and waved them about.

  “I used to have ribbons in my hair,” she went on, her voice growing softer and sleepier with every word. Her eyes held a faraway look, as if she was seeing herself as she was then, when she was little. “Bright red or yellow ribbons. He used to like it best like that. I would try to hide if I knew he was looking for me. But he would always find me and catch me. I would cry, but he would smile at me and hold my pigtails in each hand. I would try and get away, but he would pull me closer and closer.”

  She put on a very false babyish voice. “‘Daddy wants to play with his little dolly’, he would say. I knew what he wanted. Sometimes I wouldn’t want to do it, but he would make me do it. He would hold onto my pigtails, pulling me closer, until it was in my face and I couldn’t avoid it. Then he would make me do it. ‘Be a good girl. Be daddy’s little dolly. You know you like it too.’” Victoria’s voice grew harsh. “Daddy’s little dolly. Ha! Daddy’s little whore, more like!”

  Her face grew ugly, and in a moment of anger she snatched up the scissors from the first aid kit on the table, and before Rosanna could stop her, she had cut off one of the false pigtails.

  As soon as the pigtail was cut loose, Victoria stared at it in surprise. “Oh, bollocks,” she muttered. “Now look what I’ve gone and done…”

  Rosanna took the scissors from her limp hand. “It’s alright, love, don’t worry about it.” Her eyes were filled with tears as she put her arm around Victoria and stroked her uneven hair. “It doesn’t matter, love. Nothing matters anymore.”

  Victoria stared up at Rosanna. “But Louise will kill me.”

  Hearing her name spoken spurred Louise into motion at last, and she came forward and sat down next to Victoria, quickly putting her arms around her, and kissing her cheek. “It’s alright, Vikki. I’m not upset at all, honestly I’m not. We’ll sort it out. Don’t worry about it. We’ll fix it. It’ll be fine, you’ll see.” She tried to be encouraging, but she was openly crying, and her voice kept faltering.

  Victoria didn’t seem to notice anything. She looked down at the pigtail in her hand, her eyes blinking. “But it’s ruined,” she said. “I’ve made a mess of myself again.” She yawned heavily, then looked up at Louise and Rosanna, and saw the expressions on their faces and the tears in their eyes. All of a sudden she seemed to realise what she had been saying, and a look of horror came over her face.

  “You won’t tell anyone will you?” she pleaded grabbing both Louise and Rosanna. “Oh, please don’t tell anyone! I didn’t mean to tell you! I feel so fuzzy…Oh, what was I thinking? You mustn’t say a word about this! You mustn’t! It’s a secret! It was always a secret!”

  Louise fussed over her, hugging and kissing her. “We won’t tell a soul! It’s alright, Vikki! Don’t worry about it!”

  But Rosanna was now furious. “The bastard shouldn’t get away with it!” she said. “Tormenting a poor little girl like that! His own daughter, too! It’s an outrage! It’s disgusting what he made you do! You have to tell the police!”

  “No!” Victoria almost screamed. “You mustn’t say anything! You mustn’t! They’ll lock me up! They’ll punish me!”

  “But it wasn’t your fault!” Rosanna told her. “It was him! He was the evil one, not you!”

  “But I killed him!”

  Victoria’s words were like a bomb-shell. It stunned them both into silence. Victoria looked at their shocked faces, her hand trembling as she rubbed at her face, trying to stem the tiredness that was overcoming her.

  “I told Zach,” she said almost in a whisper. “I met him at a pub one night. He got me drunk and I told him. I told him how daddy kept coming into my room at night, how he never stopped, even when I was older. He told me he would fix it for me. He told me he would stop my daddy from doing it anymore. The next day Zach and two other boys beat my daddy up when he was coming home from the pub. They hit him with base-ball bats. It took him ages to recover. He was never the same after that, and he never bothered me again. He wouldn’t even look at me.”

  Louise tried to come to terms with what Victoria was saying. She had known that something had been going on between Victoria and her father ever since they made love on the first night. But she had only suspected the truth. Having it thrust into the open like this was too much to take in. And every moment it seemed to be getting worse. Would there ever be an end to the shocks of this day? She couldn’t think of anything to say. But Rosa
nna did.

  “Why weren’t the police involved?” she wanted to know. “Didn’t this Zach get arrested?”

  “No.” Victoria shook her head in an exaggerated fashion. “Zach had told him you see. Zach had told daddy that he knew, and that if he did it again he would get worse. And he told him that if he said anything to the police, they would tell them what he had been doing to me. Because of that daddy never told the police anything. He said he didn’t see who hit him. And less than a year later, he died.”

  Louise found her voice at last. “But that wasn’t your fault!” she blurted out.

  Victoria rubbed hard at her temples. “Yes it was!” she snarled in irritation. “It was like Rosie said before! People make their own choices, but beating up my daddy wasn’t just Zach’s idea! When he told me he could fix it I begged him to do it! I told him to hit my daddy hard! I was drunk and angry! ‘Make him pay!’ I told him! They broke daddy’s skull! That’s why he never recovered, that’s why he died! They did it, but I was the cause! I made it happen! I killed my daddy!”

  Louise hugged Victoria even tighter. “No one could blame you for what happened, not after what your father had been doing to you!”

  And Rosanna added, “Your father was evil. I don’t feel sorry for him at all. He deserved it. How long was he doing this to you?”

  Victoria looked ashamed when she answered. “It started when I was seven and it didn’t stop until I met Zach two years ago. By then he wasn’t doing it as much as he had been when I was younger. Once I got older I could get away from him more often. I would sleep over at Chrissy’s house, or just stay out late at night. But every so often he would still come into my room at night and catch me.”

  “But couldn’t you fight him off?” Rosanna asked. “Didn’t your mother help?”

  “No. I was always frightened that mummy would hear us fighting. Daddy kept saying that we had to keep it a secret from her or she would be upset with me. He said that mummy would blame me for it. He said that she would call me a dirty little slut and throw me out. I believed him.”

  “Rubbish!” Rosanna exclaimed. “No mother worth having would have taken his side!”