A Mother’s Sacrifice

by Kitty Neale

  Katy laughed, ‘Nice, you reckon? More like they can’t get girlfriends!’

  That evening when the girls went to the Star Hotel, they were surprised to find there were no queues to get in. A poster outside was advertising the Jethro Tull event.

  ‘Oh, no, Katy, look …’

  ‘What am I looking at?’

  Polly pointed to the poster. ‘We’ve got the wrong date! The band isn’t on until next week.’

  Instead of being disappointed, Katy burst out laughing. ‘Trust us, all that effort to look this good, wasted … or maybe not. We’re here now, let’s go in for a drink.’

  Polly wasn’t sure that this was a good idea. She’d never been in a pub bar before unless she was there to see a band, but Katy seemed so confident that after just a moment’s hesitation she followed her friend in.

  ‘I’ll have a gin and tonic. What about you, Polly?’ Katy asked as they stood at the bar.

  ‘Oh, just a Coca-Cola for me, thanks.’

  ‘Don’t be such a party pooper, Polly. We haven’t got work tomorrow so we can let our hair down a bit. Come on, have a vodka in that Coke at least.’

  Polly half-heartedly agreed, not convinced that she would like the taste of vodka, but, as it transpired, she found it quite pleasant.

  After another two drinks, Katy suggested that they went up the road to a more modern bar that she knew had a jukebox.

  ‘I feel a bit dizzy,’ said Polly as they walked outside and the fresh night air hit her lungs.

  ‘That’ll be the vodka. I feel the same, but I like it,’ Katy said as she skipped a little then twirled around a lamp-post. ‘Isn’t this fun!’ she squealed.

  Polly didn’t think it was fun. She felt a little queasy as they walked along, glad when she saw the pub in sight. When they walked inside she was surprised to see Ross and Toby sitting in a corner supping on pints. Polly’s nausea passed and the caffeine from the Coca-Cola kicked in, giving her a bit of a boost and making her feel quite lively. Katy went to the bar and ordered their drinks whilst Polly, who was feeling unusually brave, went to join the lads.

  ‘Wotcha, Toby, Ross. This is a nice surprise,’ she said, slightly slurring her words.

  ‘Wish I could say the same,’ Ross snapped back.

  ‘Oh, Ross, you’re always like a bear with a sore head. You should take a leaf out of your sister’s book and lighten up a bit,’ Polly told him.

  ‘Who do you think you are, coming into my home, acting like you own the place and then having the audacity to tell me how to behave?’

  ‘Whoops.’ Polly looked at Toby and giggled like a naughty schoolgirl, unaware that she was more outspoken than normal, the vodka lowering her inhibitions. ‘Seems I’ve upset him.’

  Katy arrived at the table with a drink in each hand. ‘Well, I never,’ she exclaimed, ‘Ross and Toby drinking in a pub!’

  ‘Sod off,’ Ross snapped.

  ‘Yeah, we will,’ said Katy. ‘Come on, Polly, we don’t want to hang around with these two boring old farts.’

  * * *

  Quickly finishing her drink, Polly staggered a little as she got up to leave. ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, feeling fuddled and confused.

  ‘We’re going back to the Star. There might not be any music but at least I won’t have to look at my brother’s miserable face.’

  Polly followed Katy out of the pub, but her legs didn’t seem to want to go where she wanted them to and she staggered and held on to the wall for balance. With Katy’s help she managed to stand up straight, and they made their way back to the Star. Once back inside and sipping another drink, she giggled, ‘Oh, Katy, the room seems to be spinning. Tell it to stop.’

  Katy didn’t answer and a befuddled Polly turned to see her friend making eyes at a very tall and slender mod who was leaning against the bar. He was eyeing Katy back, but Polly felt her stomach lurch. ‘Katy … I–I think I’m going to be sick,’ she gasped and as quickly as her wobbly legs would let her she headed outside.

  The door Polly took led out onto a dimly lit carpark and she stumbled to a dark corner as vomit rose in her throat. She thought she saw two figures on the opposite side of the carpark, or was it three or four? Her vision was out of focus, but at least she still had the sense to pull back her hair as she leaned forward to throw up.

  Polly heaved over and over again, and once she had emptied the contents of her stomach she fished around in her handbag for a handkerchief to wipe her mouth. As she turned back around she realised the two figures were no longer on the other side of the carpark and were now standing right in front of her. They were burly-looking young men who appeared menacing rather than friendly. She tensed, and though she was drunk, she could tell from their stance that they weren’t there to see if she was all right.

  Rain was beginning to fall and all Polly wanted was to get back inside to the safety of the pub, but the two men were blocking her way.

  ‘E–ex–excuse me, please,’ she stammered, suddenly feeling more sober.

  The larger and obviously older of the two men stepped forward so he was now standing just inches from her.

  ‘What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here on your own?’ he asked.

  ‘I–I … didn’t feel well. If you could let me pass, please, my friend will be worrying about me.’

  The man was standing so close to her that she could smell his bad breath, laced with stale beer.

  ‘There’s no rush, is there? I think you and my brother here should get a bit more acquainted … you know, have a bit of fun,’ he said and he reached out his arm around her to grope her backside.

  Polly screamed, suddenly very frightened. ‘Get off me!’

  ‘Shut your mouth and stop screaming or I’ll shut it for you.’

  The smaller of the men moved in closer, and, terrified, Polly waved her arms in the air as she screamed even louder. Something hit her on the side of her head and she felt herself falling to the wet and muddy ground. Everything was hazy.

  ‘Go on, Kenny, get her knickers off! Don’t just stand there. It’s about time you became a real man.’

  ‘I can’t, Al,’ another voice said.

  Polly could hear what the man said, but his voice sounded distant.

  ‘Just fucking do it, get her drawers off and get on top of her. I ain’t gonna tell you again!’

  Polly felt hands on her, the sensation of her underwear being yanked down, but her head was swimming and she thought she might be sick again. Oh, Dad, Dad, her mind screamed. She wanted him to be there now, to rescue her, to save her from the two men who were now savagely abusing her.

  Her dad couldn’t come. He was dead, and now Polly wished she was dead too. It was then that something shut down in her mind, and as rain poured down, she fell into a black pit where nothing could touch her any more.

  Alan Purvis hadn’t expected to bump into a tasty piece in the carpark. He and Kenny were there to rob cars. It was a good spot, dark and isolated from the main road, out of sight of anyone unless they left the pub by the back door, and they could keep an eye out for that happening.

  After taking the five quid from Ross they’d bought some fags, had a decent meal in a café and played for ages on the fruit machine, losing a packet. After that they’d been drinking most of the day, and, without much cash left to give their father, they were too scared to go home. Alan had had a lot more to drink than Kenny, but it’d still been his idea to see if they could break into a few cars to find stuff – stuff their dad could pawn or sell to keep him happy. It was always him who had to come up with ways to make a few bob and Alan had just been thinking that it was about time his brother grew up a bit when he’d spotted the young woman across the carpark. The thought occurred to him that if Kenny had his way with her, it might just do the trick. Maybe if he became a real man, he wouldn’t be so stupid and, best of all, he’d stop wetting the bed.

  It was a stroke of luck that the girl was drunk and once he had whacked her she didn’t put up much of a
struggle. In fact, looking at her now, he thought she was out cold. ‘Go on, Kenny, get in there,’ he urged again.

  ‘But I don’t know how to.’

  ‘Look, get yourself ready like this,’ Alan said, undoing his flies to demonstrate, but with the amount of beer he’d been drinking, he wasn’t able to make much headway.

  Fortunately, when Kenny copied him he rose to the occasion.

  ‘Right, you’re ready now,’ Alan told him. ‘Go on, stick it in her.’

  ‘But what if she doesn’t want me to?’

  ‘Don’t you worry about her, they all say no but they don’t mean it. Anyway, she ain’t in any fit state to object.’

  Alan stood watching as Kenny at last managed to get it in and began to writhe on top of the girl. He might have been unwilling at first, but Alan grinned widely as he saw that his brother was really getting into it now, pounding hard on the girl beneath him. ‘That’s right, Kenny, go on, give it to her good and proper.’

  Suddenly, Alan heard a female voice shouting from the other side of the carpark but through the sound of the thundering rain, he couldn’t make out what she was shouting. ‘Quick, Kenny, get on with it,’ he warned, not wanting to be caught in the act.

  The voice got closer, but before Alan had a chance to react a dark-haired girl holding a thin stiletto-heeled shoe in her hand was leaning over Kenny and he watched in horror as she brought the shoe down hard on Kenny’s head. The sound it made as it hit Kenny’s skull was sickening, and Alan was sure he heard bone shattering.

  ‘Get off of her, you filthy bastard,’ the girl screamed.

  But Kenny couldn’t move. He was lying motionless on top of the unconscious girl on the floor.

  No doubt due to drink, Alan’s reactions were slow as he went to grab the one-shoed girl, who was still shouting and screaming. He stared down at his brother. Kenny wasn’t moving. ‘Kenny, Ken … get up, mate,’ he urged.

  It was then that Alan saw it. The long thin heel was sticking out of the back of Kenny’s head, embedded in his skull, and a trickle of blood was running from the wound onto the wet ground. He couldn’t take it in, couldn’t accept what he was seeing. ‘Kenny, come on, get up, stop mucking about,’ he said desperately, but Kenny was still motionless.

  ‘Oh, God, what have I done?’

  Alan looked at the one-shoed girl who was standing transfixed to the spot, staring at the two bodies on the floor and shaking uncontrollably.

  ‘You fucking bitch,’ he spat as the truth hit him. ‘You’ve killed him. You’ve murdered my brother!’

  The girl slowly turned her head to look at him. ‘He … he was raping my best friend. I–I had to stop him.’

  Alan’s legs abruptly turned to jelly and he collapsed to his knees. All he could hear was the sound of the rain belting down, and it suddenly dawned on him that it was his fault that his brother was dead. He had made Kenny do it, made him rape the girl. He hadn’t thought of it as rape, just as a bit of fun – he’d only wanted Kenny to get the feel of a real woman.

  But Kenny hadn’t wanted to do it and he had made him, forced him, and now his brother was dead. ‘I’m sorry, Kenny,’ Alan cried out, ‘this is all my fault. Oh, fuck, I’m sorry …’

  Polly felt the sting of rain on her face and opened her eyes. Her head was thumping and something felt heavy on top of her. She could hear a man crying, and for a moment she was back under the table in Nancy’s café, but as she reached up with her arms she felt that the weight pinning her to the ground was a man’s body. It was then that she remembered where she was, and the two men in the carpark.

  They had attacked her, were going to rape her! Her body felt bruised and she feared the worst as she felt something warm drip onto her cheek. She reached up to touch a sticky substance and then looked at her fingers, sure, even in the dim light, that it was blood. But it wasn’t her blood! It was dripping from the man on top of her.

  Still dazed, Polly tried to push the man off her, but either he was too heavy or she was too weak. ‘Help me,’ she managed to call with a hoarse voice. ‘Please, help me …’

  ‘Polly, oh, Polly, thank goodness you’re all right.’

  Sure it was her friend’s voice, she begged, ‘Katy? Help! Get him off me!’

  ‘Don’t you touch him, you murdering fucking cow. Don’t you dare lay a finger on my brother!’ Another man’s voice cut through the darkness.

  ‘I didn’t mean to kill him!’

  Polly was barely aware of their words, but she somehow instinctively knew that they were talking about the man on top of her. The horror of it slowly began to sink in. He was dead, but his blood was still dripping onto her. She didn’t know how he’d died, nor did she care. She was lying under a dead body and her only thought was to get him off of her. She began to hyperventilate. ‘Get him off me! Get him off! Get him off!’ she hysterically screamed.

  ‘All right, all right, shut up!’ the other man said.

  Through the dim light, Polly recognised the man’s face as he leaned over her. ‘Don’t touch me!’

  ‘I ain’t gonna touch you,’ the man gasped as she felt the body being lifted away. ‘Oh, Kenny … Kenny.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to kill him,’ Katy howled again. ‘Polly, he was raping you! I had to stop him but I didn’t mean to kill him.’

  Polly managed to sit up and looked to one side to see a man lying on the ground with another man sobbing over his body. She knew it was them, the ones who had raped her. She saw blood on the floor mixing with the rainwater spreading out around her, while her best friend, sobbing and obviously in shock, looked to be drenched too. They all seemed to be frozen in shock, but as Polly felt mental exhaustion washing over her she managed to say, ‘We need to call the police.’

  Still nobody moved, but her screams must have raised the alert and a crowd was beginning to gather around them. She could hear sirens getting closer and wanted to stand up, but found she didn’t have the strength.

  It was like a horrific dream, an unbelievable nightmare that unbeknownst to Polly was about to get worse.

  Chapter 24

  Jackie opened the front door and guided Polly through. The poor girl was traumatised and though Jackie felt deep empathy for her, she was more concerned for Katy, who was locked up in a police cell and would possibly be charged with murder.

  Those hateful Purvis brothers, she thought, and to think that just last week she’d said she felt sorry for them. Well, one of them was dead now, and from what Jackie had been told he was a rapist, and the surviving one an accessory.

  ‘Ross, thank goodness you’re still up. Please, put the kettle on. We could do with a cuppa,’ Jackie said as she gently eased Polly into an armchair.

  ‘Are you serious, Mum? You’re still going to let her stay here after what’s happened? My sister is in prison because of her! I knew she was bad news the minute she set foot in this house. Get her out, Mum, I’m telling you, she’s nothing but trouble.’

  Unable to believe what she was hearing, Jackie turned to her son and said angrily, ‘Don’t be so silly. Firstly, your sister is not in prison, she’s in a police cell at the station, and secondly it was not Polly’s fault. The Purvis brothers attacked her and Katy did what anyone would do if they saw their friend being raped. Now stop being so melodramatic and go and put that kettle on.’

  Ross jumped up from the sofa, saying before he stormed out of the room, ‘Do it yourself. I’m going upstairs. I’m having nothing to do with Polly and God help her if my sister goes down for murder, which she probably will.’

  Jackie hoped that Ross was wrong; just the thought of her precious daughter being locked up in jail for years on end caused her to break out in a cold sweat. Katy wouldn’t be able to handle it, Jackie was positive of that. But surely they couldn’t send her down for murder? She’d tried to protect her friend. She wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. Jackie only hoped the police believed Katy. And to think that the other disgusting Purvis brother was under the same roof as her beautiful d
aughter. It’s a shame she didn’t kill them both, she thought angrily, but then quickly pulled herself up for having such wicked thoughts.

  ‘I’ll go and make us a cup of tea, love. Why don’t you go and put your pyjamas on,’ Jackie spoke softly to Polly, who looked as white as a sheet.

  ‘Can … can I have a bath? Now that the police doctor has collected all the evidence I just want to scrub myself clean, to get that monster off of my skin. I feel so … so dirty.’ She shuddered. ‘Dirty and violated.’

  ‘Of course you can. I’ll bring you a cup of tea, and listen, take no notice of anything Ross says. What happened is not your fault. Katy won’t get charged with murder and she won’t be going to prison.’

  ‘Oh, I hope not,’ Polly whispered.

  Jackie inwardly prayed she could believe her own words as she went to the kitchen. She put the kettle on the gas to boil and decided on a coffee for herself. It usually prevented her from sleeping, but it wouldn’t matter this time as she was probably going to be up all night worrying about her daughter, who, instead of being in her own bed, would have to sleep in an uncomfortable police cell.

  Polly stood looking down at the steaming bathwater. Her head was aching and her body felt bruised and sore, but she had no regard for her physical pain as her mind kept going back to the carpark and to the moment of coming round to find a dead man on top of her. She felt uncomfortable down below and knew she’d been raped, but had no proper memory of it.

  She slowly peeled off her torn, muddied clothes, letting them drop to the floor, then kicked them into the corner of the room in disgust. As she turned back to the bath, she caught sight of her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her face was swollen on one side, but what caused her the most pain was the thought of her lost virginity and the way it had been taken in such a violent manner. Turning away from her reflection, she carefully stepped into the hot water and submerged herself, wanting to wash away the feeling that was making her skin crawl. With her head under the water she closed her eyes and held her breath, wishing that she didn’t have to breathe ever again.