Lost Angel

by Mandasue Heller

  He was still thinking about her as he turned the corner onto Lisa’s street when his gaze was drawn to the headlights of a car turning in at the other end. As it pulled up outside her house, the front door opened and light spilled out onto the pavement. Lisa came out onto the step just as Johnny climbed out of the car, and when he walked up to her she grabbed him by the front of his jacket and kissed him before pulling him inside.

  Shocked, Ryan stood and stared at the now closed front door. No way had he just seen that. No way.

  When the downstairs light went out and, moments later, the bedroom light came on, he shook his head in disgust and walked back out to the main road. His brain was fried. Johnny was a married man – how could he do something like that? And with Lisa of all people. And how could she do it to Angel, when she knew how much the girl adored her dad? It was just plain wrong on so many levels.

  Ryan hadn’t intended to go to Angel’s house but that was where he found himself twenty minutes later. He’d never been there before and he felt conspicuous as he walked up the avenue. It was one of those posh neighbourhoods where everyone had a flash motor, and matching net curtains upstairs and down. He doubted that they saw too many black faces around here, so he kept his head down and walked quickly along to Angel’s house.

  He stopped at the end of her drive and gazed helplessly up at the windows. He didn’t even know what he was doing here. There was no way he could tell her what he’d just seen, because it would break her heart. And that was if she even believed him – which she probably wouldn’t, because he still didn’t believe it himself.

  A noise from across the road shook Ryan out of his thoughts. Scared that he’d been spotted, he ducked into the shadows and made his way down the side of the house into the dark back garden. A light was on at the downstairs window, and he held his breath and edged up to it to peep into the room. The TV was on in the corner, and an old lady who he guessed to be Angel’s nan was sprawled on the couch with her eyes closed and her mouth wide open.

  Ryan stepped back and peered up the windows. The master bedroom was usually at the front of the house, so the chances were that one of these two windows belonged to Angel’s room. He picked up a small clump of soil from the flower bed and tossed it at the smaller of the two, then waited a few seconds and did it again. After a moment, the curtain twitched and Angel’s sleepy face appeared. Her eyes widened when she peered down and saw him. She pushed the window open.

  ‘Oh, my God, what are you doing here?’ she hissed. ‘You’ve got to go before someone sees you.’

  ‘It’s all right, your nan’s flat out,’ Ryan whispered back. ‘And your dad’s busy,’ he added, trying to keep his voice even so that she wouldn’t pick up on anything being wrong.

  ‘How do you know?’ Angel asked.

  ‘I just saw him when I left work,’ he lied. ‘Come down for a minute – I want to see you.’

  ‘Wait there.’ She closed the window quietly.

  A few seconds later, Ryan heard the sound of a key being carefully turned in the back door, and then Angel was in his arms.

  ‘I’ve missed you so much,’ she whispered, kissing him greedily.

  ‘Missed you too, baby girl,’ he murmured, holding her close and stroking her hair.

  ‘Come with me.’ She took his hand and led him up the garden to a shed at the far end.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asked when she opened the door and pulled him inside.

  Hushing him, Angel rooted through the pile of junk that was heaped in the corner until she found the rolled-up rug she was looking for. She laid it out on the floor and sat down.

  ‘We shouldn’t be in here,’ Ryan said, feeling suddenly nervous.

  ‘I just want to be alone with you,’ Angel told him, reaching for his hand and tugging him down beside her.

  He kissed her, but pulled back when she slid her hand down to his crotch. ‘Don’t,’ he groaned.

  ‘I want to,’ she told him huskily. ‘I love you, Ryan.’

  ‘We shouldn’t do this,’ he murmured. ‘You’re too young.’

  ‘Don’t you love me?’ She gazed into his eyes.

  ‘Yeah, course, but—’

  ‘Sshhh.’ She put her finger on his lips. ‘Don’t say anything, just do it. Please . . . I want you to.’

  When Angel moved her hand back down and slowly unzipped his fly, Ryan closed his eyes. He knew it was wrong, but he’d been dreaming about this since the very first moment he’d laid eyes on her – and he wasn’t strong enough to resist.

  ‘I haven’t got anything on me,’ he gasped at the last minute.

  ‘I don’t care,’ she whispered, pulling him into her.

  When it was over, Ryan pushed himself up onto his elbow and gazed down at her.

  ‘Oh, God, did I hurt you?’ he asked when he saw a tear slide from her eye and roll down into her hair.

  ‘No, I’m just happy,’ Angel said, putting her arms around his neck and pulling his head down. ‘Let’s run away, then no one can stop us being together.’

  ‘We can’t,’ Ryan told her gently. ‘If we’re going to make this work, we’ve got to do it right.’

  ‘You mean tell my dad?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He nodded. ‘I know you’re scared, and he’ll probably be mad. But I reckon he’d come round if he knew how serious we are.’

  ‘Are we serious?’ Angel probed, needing to know that it wasn’t just her who felt like this.

  ‘As serious as it gets,’ Ryan told her.

  ‘I don’t want you to go,’ she moaned when he sat up. ‘Let’s just sleep in here. No one will notice I’m not in my room.’

  ‘I’ve got to,’ he insisted, kissing her softly. ‘And you need to go back inside. It’s too cold out here.’

  Angel sighed, and reluctantly let him help her to her feet. ‘Will you come back tomorrow night?’

  ‘For sure, baby girl.’

  Hand in hand they left the shed and darted across the grass. Ryan kissed her one last time and started to back away down the path. Angel was smiling, but when she saw a movement in the shadows behind him her eyes widened in horror.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Ryan whispered, giving her a questioning look. When she didn’t answer, he turned his head to see what she was staring at. A thrill of terror ran through his body when he saw Johnny standing right behind him.

  ‘This ain’t what it looks like, Mr C . . .’ he spluttered, holding his hands out, palms up. ‘We weren’t doing nothing, I swear.’

  Johnny seized him by the throat and slammed him up against the wall. ‘Shut your fucking mouth, you dirty little bastard,’ he growled. Then he punched him in the gut.

  ‘Dad, don’t!’ Angel cried, her knees turning to water as Ryan’s face contorted in pain. ‘You’re hurting him!’

  ‘Get in the house,’ Johnny ordered.

  ‘It’s not her fault,’ Ryan gasped, struggling to breathe as the pain seared through his body. ‘Take it out on me, not her.’

  ‘Oh, I’m going to,’ Johnny told him quietly.

  ‘Who’s there?’ Rita stumbled into the doorway just then, wielding an empty whisky bottle above her head. ‘Oh, Jeezus!’ she squawked when she saw Johnny with his hand around the boy’s throat. ‘We’re being burgled! Someone call the police!’

  ‘Shut it!’ Johnny hissed. ‘Get back inside – and take her with you.’ He jerked his chin at Angel.

  ‘Nan, stop him,’ Angel sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘He’s going to kill him.’

  Rita gazed confusedly from Angel to Johnny. Then a light switched on in her eyes, and her lip curled back in disgust.

  ‘You filthy little whore,’ she hissed. ‘How could you let one of them put their hands on you? Your grandad will be turning in his grave.’

  ‘I love him!’ Angel cried. ‘And he loves me!’

  ‘Get inside, you dirty little bitch!’ Rita yelled, grabbing her by the hair and tugging her over the step. ‘Just wait till your mother wakes up and hears about th
is – she’ll skin you alive!’

  When she had closed the door, Johnny headbutted Ryan and then laid into him with his fists and feet, only stopping when he could barely see the boy’s face for blood. Breathing heavily, he stared down at him lying in a heap on the floor at his feet.

  ‘If you ever come near my daughter again, I’ll kill you – you got that?’ he growled. ‘Now get the fuck away from my house before I change my mind about letting you go.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ryan croaked, coughing as blood trickled down his throat. ‘But I love her. And I was going to come and see you . . . ask your permission.’

  ‘One more word and you’ll be leaving in the boot of my car,’ Johnny warned, reaching down and hauling him to his feet. ‘Now fuckin’ move.’ He hurled him up the path.

  Angel was sitting at the kitchen table sobbing hysterically when her dad walked in after seeing Ryan off. She looked up at him accusingly and wailed, ‘I love him! You had no right!’

  The slap was so hard and swift that it knocked her off her chair and sent her sprawling across the floor. She came to rest against the sink-cupboard door and stared up at Johnny in mute shock. In her entire life, her dad had never so much as smacked her hand. And he had never ever looked at her the way he was looking at her right now: a mixture of disgust, fury, and disappointment – but mainly disgust.

  Even Rita was shocked as she watched from the doorway. ‘Go easy,’ she cautioned.

  ‘Shut your mouth,’ Johnny growled. ‘This has got nothing to do with you, so fuck off.’

  Rita didn’t need telling twice. As bad as her Frankie had been, she had never once seen as murderous a look in his eye as the one that was in Johnny’s now. She flicked one last pitying look at Angel, then scuttled into her parlour and shoved a chair up against the door to keep him out.

  ‘Go to your room,’ Johnny told Angel, his voice so quiet that she almost didn’t hear what he’d said. ‘And don’t come out again until I tell you to.’

  Angel scrambled to her feet and edged past her father with terror in her eyes before fleeing up the stairs.

  Alone, Johnny yanked the cupboard open and took out a bottle of whisky. He twisted the cap off and drank a long mouthful straight from the bottle, then got a glass and sat down at the table to finish it off.

  He could easily have killed Ryan just now, and he wished he had, because then the situation would have been dead and buried along with the boy’s body. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought of his beautiful girl being mauled. All he’d ever done was try to protect her, and he was furious that a boy he’d trusted and liked had come creeping round to his house behind his back to take advantage of her.

  The devious bastard had fed her the oldest line in the book by telling her that he loved her, and she’d fallen for it, like the naive little girl that she was. She didn’t have a clue how men operated. But Johnny did, because he’d done the exact same thing to her mother – and look where that had landed him.

  But it wasn’t happening again. The boy had been warned, and if he chanced his hand he’d lose it – along with his head, his legs, and his dick.

  From now on, Angel wouldn’t be leaving this house except to go to school. And to make sure that she didn’t try to pull a fast one, Johnny would be dropping her off in the morning and picking her back up in the afternoon. And then she would be locked in her room with the windows nailed shut, until she got over whatever she thought she felt for the prick.

  Ryan limped his way out of the avenue and around to the main road. He saw a taxi in the distance, and leaned against a lamp-post for support as he waited for the vehicle to pull alongside. When it did, he waved, but the driver took one look at his battered face and put his foot down. So he staggered on, feeling with every step as if he’d been stabbed with a red-hot poker.

  His mobile rang just as he reached Hulme. Hoping against hope that it was Angel, he gritted his teeth against the pain and pulled the phone out of his pocket. But it wasn’t Angel – it was Lisa.

  ‘Johnny’s found out about you and Angel,’ she blurted out before he could speak.

  ‘I know,’ Ryan muttered.

  ‘Oh, God, I’m so sorry,’ she groaned, hearing the pain in his voice and guessing that she was too late. ‘It’s my fault. He came round earlier to drop something off, and we got chatting and I let it slip. I would have warned you earlier, but it took me ages to find your number.’

  Ryan closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. So they’d only been chatting, had they? Up in the bedroom, after kissing on the step. Yeah, right!

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he murmured. ‘Just make sure Angel’s okay.’

  ‘Johnny would never hurt Angel.’ Lisa was adamant. ‘He loves her too much.’

  ‘Hope you’re right,’ Ryan said quietly.

  He cut the call and continued on home.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Ryan’s mum demanded, rushing out into the hall with a wild look in her eyes when she heard the door opening. ‘Some men came round and tried to kick the door in, and—’ Zeta stopped mid-sentence when she noticed the state of her son’s face. She flicked the overhead light on to get a better look. ‘Oh, my God, what happened?’ she gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

  ‘Nothing,’ Ryan muttered. ‘I’m going to bed.’

  ‘Son, you’re hurt,’ she cried, stepping in front of him as he made for the stairs. ‘You need to go to hospital.’

  ‘Just leave it,’ he groaned.

  ‘Leave what?’ his dad asked, lurching into the living-room doorway. He’d been asleep in his chair and his face was heavily creased. But it brightened up when he saw the state of his son. ‘Fuckin’ hell, what’ve you done to deserve that? Been dipping your wick in some other fucker’s bird, have you?’

  ‘Shut up, Gary,’ Zeta snapped, too concerned about Ryan to worry how he might react to her speaking to him so sharply. ‘This is serious. He could have internal bleeding for all we know.’

  ‘I’m okay,’ Ryan insisted, gripping the banister rail and hauling himself up the stairs.

  ‘If this is owt to do with them blokes who came round earlier, you’d best hope this is an end to it, ’cos there’ll be a fuckin’ bloodbath if they try it again,’ his dad called after him. ‘They caught me kipping this time, but they won’t get that lucky again.’

  Ryan ignored him and went into his bedroom. When the door had closed behind him, he took off his jacket and T-shirt and gingerly examined his ribs. He was covered in bruises, and one of his ribs was jutting out a little further than the rest. But it wasn’t the first time he’d had his ribs broken, because his dad had already been there and done that. So, knowing that the doctor would only bandage it if he went to hospital, he tore up an old T-shirt and used it as strapping, then took some painkillers and climbed carefully into bed.

  He didn’t blame Johnny. Any man would have done the same if they had caught some little piece of shit like Ryan putting his hands on their daughter. He just wished he’d been a better man and stopped Angel when she got started tonight, and then they might have stood a chance. But Johnny was never going to let him anywhere near Angel after this. And that hurt way more than the physical pain.

  28

  Angel’s heart was broken, and she felt as if her life was over. Her dad still wasn’t talking to her beyond issuing instructions, and her mum had been gloating ever since it happened, making snide comments whenever her dad was home – probably, Angel suspected, to make sure that he didn’t forget what his daughter had done and soften towards her.

  Her days had become one long tedious round of being watched like a hawk. She couldn’t move at home without her mum and her nan demanding to know where she was going and what she was doing, and if she stayed too long in the bathroom they’d be banging at the door in seconds, demanding that she unlock it.

  And it was just as bad at school. Her dad would drive her there in silence, and watch until she’d entered the building. But there was no escape even then, because he’d spoke
n with the head, who had subsequently ordered the teachers to check on Angel’s whereabouts throughout the day, so she couldn’t even have a chat with her friends at break without one of them popping up. And then, at hometime, her dad, or one of his trusted employees, would be waiting at the gate to take her home again.

  When Angel started to feel sick and went off her food a few weeks into her sentence, she put it down to the stress of not being allowed even to breathe without asking permission first. But her mum thought otherwise.

  ‘Go and do this,’ she ordered, coming home from the shops one afternoon and dropping a pregnancy test onto the kitchen table where Angel was doing her homework while her nan watched over her.

  Angel blushed and shoved it away. ‘No. I don’t need it.’

  Ruth looked at her mother. ‘Has she been sick again while I’ve been out?’ She pursed her lips when Rita nodded, then put her hands on her hips and glared at Angel. ‘I’m not going to tell you again, lady. Go to the bathroom and do it – now.’

  ‘Fine, I’ll do it.’ Angel snatched up the box and shoved her chair back. ‘But you’re wrong.’

  ‘Yes, well, we’ll soon find out, won’t we?’ said Ruth, following her out of the door and up the stairs.

  Angel stopped in the bathroom doorway and raised her eyebrows. ‘You’re not coming in with me.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I am,’ Ruth told her. ‘There’s no way I’m trusting you to do it on your own. You’ll probably shove it under the tap or something.’

  The thought hadn’t even crossed Angel’s mind. But she still didn’t want her mum standing there watching her. That was just disgusting.

  ‘I won’t be able to do it if you’re there,’ she said, standing her ground. ‘You can’t force me to wee.’

  Ruth exhaled loudly with irritation. ‘Right, I’ll wait out here. But you can leave the door open so I can hear if you run the tap.’

  Aware that it was the best she was going to get, Angel reluctantly did the deed, even though she was sure that it was a waste of time. She and Ryan had only slept together that one time in the shed, and she’d had her period straight after, so there was no way she could be pregnant. Although she kind of hoped that she was, because then they would have to let her see him.