by Drew Black
Fortunately, the ordeal only lasted a few minutes, but to Philippa, it seemed like a lifetime. Gradually, Sommerville's breathing returned to normal, he withdrew his still twitching penis from within her, and rolled away on his side. Philippa felt like screaming.
2
Philippa's hand shook badly as she tried to engage her key in the lock of her apartment door. However, once inside she began to feel comforted by the familiar surroundings - this still did not prevent the flood of tears from coming. She slumped onto her sofa and lay there sobbing. She couldn't believe she'd allowed herself to be used in such a way. She felt cheap and sullied. All the money in the world wasn't worth this feeling. However, she checked her purse just the same. All the money was still there. She took it and threw it across the room. She couldn't get Somerville out of her mind, his face, his grunting, his smell. Philippa got up and ran to the bathroom.
Although being sick made Philippa feel nauseous, it somehow made her feel better as well. She turned on the faucet, pooled water in her hands, and splashed her face. How could she have let that bastard Jones talk her into it? Philippa dried her face and pushed her hair back. That slime ball Somerville had certainly made sure he'd got his money's worth - four fucking times, and he would have gone on even longer, if she hadn't feigned deep sleep.
Philippa went over to the shower and turned it on. She refused to look at herself in the mirror, or maybe she was just too afraid to. She stepped into the shower yearning to have things back to how they were pre-Somerville.
She switched off her hairdryer and drew in a deep breath. She vowed never to sleep with a man for money again, no matter how bad she needed it in the future. No, no matter what, she would not allow herself to go through such an ordeal again.
However, one thought remained, a thought that nagged away at her and upset her. Some deep part of her had enjoyed the experience - the attention, the flattery, (no matter how false it had been) and yes, she had to admit it, the sex too. Philippa crouched against the wall and put her head in her hands.
THE WORM TURNS.
1
June 1953
I t was the end of another school day, and as the kids dispersed screaming and shouting at one another Jack began the twenty-minute journey home on foot. It was a beautiful summers day and as he walked across the fields, he felt good. He didn't know why, he just did. Someone had been cutting grass, and he'd always loved that smell. The sun was warm, and a gentle breeze blew across his face. He began to skip along the well-worn path, and as he did so his satchel bounced against his hip.
Jack was a small boy with carroty red hair, spectacles, and a face full of freckles. He was also very pale and usually kept out of the sun because his mother said that it would burn his skin if he didn't.
He passed the Johnson's farm; well his dad said that it was a shithole, not a farm, but they did have a few cows and hens. He clambered over a dry-stone wall, now he was only two fields away from home. He was sure something good was going to happen to him, he could just sense it. He could see the row of cottages where he lived and called out for his dog; "Jess, come on Jess. Je-es, come on girl." No reply. That was strange, she normally came straight away, yapping and barking, tail wagging. Oh well, Jack thought, she’ll be off chasing rabbits or something.
Then, suddenly there she was in the distance racing towards him, her barks growing steadily louder. thirty seconds later his Jack Russell was at his feet, jumping up at him, tail wagging furiously. "There you are girl, where've you been hiding? Come on then, let's go and get you some tea."
Jack approached his house, the end one of the row, with Jess trotting beside him. He noticed the smoke from their chimney curling up towards the sky. Dad must be home, he thought, as he turned the handle of the front door. "Ay-ha dad, I'm home."
"Jack, is that you?"
His father's tone sounded harsher than normal. Oh god, what have I done now, Jack thought. His mind raced to ascertain the reason for his dad's apparent displeasure. He hoped for all the world that it had nothing to do with Jess. His father had never liked his pet dog for some reason.
"What did I tell you, this morning, before you left for school?" his father said.
"Uh-uh, I'm not sh-shure dad."
"Well, think boy, think, are you stupid?"
Jack felt his body begin to tremble.
"Think, what did I tell you to do?" Jack's father towered over him, eyes burning. "I asked you a simple question, are you stupid, are you?" He bent over, so he was at the same height as Jack. He was breathing heavily, and Jack could smell his stale breath. The moment seemed to last an age. Jack observed his father's face in minute detail. His large blue/black staring eyes, his slicked back hair which was dishevelled. His unshaven chin, and most off all his mouth which was drawn back in a kind off half smirk, half sneer, across perfectly white teeth.
"Your shoes dad, your shoes, you told me to polish your shoes." Jack blurted out, finally remembering. He felt tears begin to well in his eyes.
"Yes, you little brat, my shoes." Jack's father replied mimicking Jack's quavering tone, and shaking Jack's small shoulders, as he said it.
Joe Davies released his grip on his son, and turned away, sighing heavily. He stood there, momentarily contemplating the situation. Then, without warning, he spun around and struck Jack across the face with a powerful back-handed blow. Caught off balance, Jack fell against the wall and then on to the floor where he lay crumpled and sobbing.
2
Jack felt sunlight on his face, and then heard his mother's voice.
"Jack, John, come on get up, you'll be late for school."
Jack put his hand to his face and winced. It wasn't a dream after all, he thought, as the previous evening's incident with his father flashed through his mind. He'd explained away the bruising, to his mother, by telling her that he had gotten into a fight at school. Which was believable because he was constantly being picked on.
John, Jack's elder brother, got out of bed and headed towards the bathroom - quietly mind, so as not to wake their father, and eldest brother Joe Junior, both of whom worked shifts at the local coal mine.
Suddenly, Jess jumped onto Jack's bed where she proceeded to give his face a good clean.
"Careful girl, that hurts." Funny, he thought, even Jess knows not to bark in the mornings whilst his father and older brother were still asleep. "Good girl." he said patting his pet dog on the head.
At the breakfast table, all their mother could talk about was the 'fight' Jack had, had the previous day.
"Where were you John, whilst all this was happening? I don't know," she continued without giving John the chance to answer. "you never look after your little brother; you know he's small for his age. You should look out for him more, John."
"Yes, mum," John sighed "can I have that last piece of toast?"
"Yes, I suppose so, unless Jack wants it, that is."
"No, I'm full, thanks mum."
Jack's mum gently ruffled his hair; "What are we going to do with you?" she said. Jack looked into his mother's face but said nothing. She gave him a warm smile, and then turned around suddenly, as the door flew open.
In came Helen, trying to put on her jacket whilst brushing her hair at the same time.
"Don't fling the door open like that Helen, I thought it was your father."
"Sorry Mum, but I'm going to be late for work."
"Do you want any breakfast love, only John's eaten all the toast. He's such a big eater, I can never fill him."
John's expression changed from one of apathy to one of triumph. He turned to Jack and pulled a false smile. Jack answered the gesture by sticking his tongue out.
"No, I'm okay mum, thanks, I'll get something at work."
"Well make sure you do, you know you should eat more, Helen."
Helen said that she would whilst continuing to mess with her hair and check her appearance in the mirror over the mantlepiece.
"You look gorgeous Helen." John said sarcastically. Sh
e turned to him and smiled; "Thanks John, I’m off see you all tonight."
"See you love,” Victoria said, “have a good day, don't slam the front … Come on boys, get your satchels, it's time you were making a move, I do hope that hasn't woken your father."
Jack and John set out for school, Jess following enthusiastically at Jack's heels. After they had crossed the first field Jack turned to Jess and said, "Go home now Jess, that's a good girl." Jess looked up at him balefully, then jumped up and bark at him, tail wagging expectantly. "Go on now Jess, we've got to go to school." Jack said pointing back in the direction of their house. Jess just sat down, whimpering slightly, tail still wagging.
"Come on Jack," John said impatiently, "we're going to be late."
At the third time of asking, Jess began to walk forlornly back to the house. Then something caught her eye, and she was off.
The boys continued on to school, talking as they went. John could actually be quite pleasant, Jack thought, well whilst they were alone, anyway.
John was a healthy-looking fourteen-year-old. Well-built and quite handsome, and even though he was only a year older than his younger brother the age gap was more like three.
They approached the school gate having run the last couple of hundred yards, just as Mr Grimshaw, one of their teachers, was ringing the school bell. The boys separated and headed for their respective classes.
Jack's lessons began for the day. He loved knowledge, and was extremely bright for his age, but concealed it as best as he could so as not to attract any unnecessary aggravation from his peers. The morning passed quickly, so much so that the lunchtime bell came as a complete surprise to him. Jack loathed school meals, and always asked for small portions. Today's offering was meat pie, potatoes, peas and gravy, followed by rice pudding. After queueing for his meal Jack looked around anxiously for somewhere to sit. Then to his relief, he spotted his brother John eating alone. As he approached, John hissed; "Don't sit with me squirt, my mates will be here soon."
Reluctantly, Jack moved on and sat on his own at an empty table. Having finished his meal, at the insistence of the head dinner lady; Mrs Marshall, he headed out into the playground. What a colossus Mrs Marshall was, Jack thought, built like a brick shithouse with the voice of a sergeant major. Suddenly, he found himself feeling sorry for Mr Marshall, and this thought made him giggle. He now had to expend more than half an hour trying to be invisible. He hated lunchtimes just as much as he hated school dinners. Well almost.
He observed a large group of kids playing tag, and he yearned to be just like them, but he always heeded his mother's advice and never ran around on account of his asthma. At this thought, he took his inhaler out of his pocket and inhaled deeply on it. He was just checking his watch and feeling pleased that there was only ten minutes left to go before classes re-commenced when he was pushed in the back.
"Hey specky, who gave you the shiner then? Come on specky, tell us, tell us."
Oh god, it was Dave Jenkins, one of John's classmates, who was a renowned bully. Jack chastised himself for not being more careful to avoid an arsehole such as Jenkins.
"Come on specky, what's the other fella look like then, or was it a girl?"
Jenkins was beginning to create a scene, and Jack could feel the stares of other kids who, by now, were starting to look round to see what all the fuss was about. Then all of a sudden, Jenkins swiped Jack's glasses off his face and began shrieking with laughter. Jenkins began to chant; "Specky, specky, specky." and to jack's utter dismay some of the other kids started to join in.
Tom Ford, one of John's friends noticed the kerfuffle and ran over to John to tell him about it. "That scrote Jenkins is having a go at your brother, mate."
"Oh god, not again, where?"
Tom pointed out the band of shrieking kids who were all poking fun at Jack.
"Just leave it Tom, they're only having a bit of fun. Besides, he's an annoying little prick, whatever Jenkins is having a go at him about, he probably deserves it."
"What, you're not going to do anything about it, he is your brother?"
John put his hands in his pockets and proceeded to examine his sneakers.
Tom shook his head. "Okay," he said "I'll sort it." Tom Ford was somewhat of a tearaway himself, and by no means an upholder of everything that was fair and just. However, there was something about this particular situation that he just did not like. Maybe it was because it involved Jenkins, or maybe it was because John's brother just looked so pitiful in the midst of all that taunting. Whatever it was he just knew he had to do something about it.
Tom trotted over to the throng of kids, who by now had formed a circle around Jenkins and Jack and began to push his way through the gathering. Tom grabbed Jenkins by the throat; "Give the kid his glasses back." he said through gritted teeth.
Tom was one of the toughest lads in the school, and certainly not someone you tangled with through choice. Bearing this in mind and added to the fact that he was presently having the breath choked out of him, Jenkins duly obliged, and as the crowd started to disperse Tom called out to Jenkins who was mumbling to himself whilst rubbing his throat. "Touch him again, and you're a dead man."
Jenkins turned around and scowled at both Tom and Jack but didn't reply. Then he turned on his heels and walked away.
"You alright kid?"
"Yes, thanks." Jack replied without raising his gaze from the floor. He was scared of Tom Ford, but that was nothing to be ashamed of because even John was afraid of him.
By this time John, along with a few of his friends, had meandered over. "Thanks Tom," he said, "You showed them who’s the boss, that’s for sure."
Tom looked John up and down, spat on the ground; “Coward" he said before walking off back to class.
After school had finished, Jack set off for home. During his journey he recounted the day's events. How Dave Jenkins had thought he was being clever by bullying and taunting him in front of all those other kids, and how Tom Ford had come to his rescue. That had been a surprise, and his brother John had been embarrassed because Jack supposed that, that should have been John's job, really. Serves him right, Jack thought feeling quite pleased with himself as he approached his house. Barking interrupted his thoughts. "Ay-ah girl, where did you come from?" Jack unlocked his front door and went inside. He ventured into the kitchen and got himself a drink of lemonade, his dad said that he should drink milk, but he hated it. He went into the living room got one of his comics out of the magazine rack and sat on the sofa. The door handle turned, and in walked his dad.
"Ay-ah dad." Jack said re-adjusting his posture to an upright position.
"Ay-ah Jack, you alright son?"
"Yes, dad." At least he didn't seem mad anymore, Jack thought.
"Have you had a good day at school?"
"Yeah, not bad, thanks."
Jack's dad cleared his throat and pushed his hair back from his face; "Listen son, I'm sorry I slapped you last night," he said, "it's just sometimes I get mad, but if I ask you to do something, I expect you to do it."
"I know dad, I don't mean to forget things, I just do."
"Your mother said that you told her you'd been in a fight at school."
Jack nodded.
"Good lad Jack." his father replied with a smile.
The lounge door opened and in walked Joe Junior. "Ay-ah squirt," he said "what's happening?"
"Oh, nothing new." Jack replied settling back down to read his comic. Joe was twenty years old and the image of his father, he even acted like him, much to their father's delight. Joe slung himself down on the sofa next to Jack; "Get me a drink brains." he said.
"Get it yourself." Jack mumbled
"Oooh, don't mess with the tough guy."
"Joe, if you want a drink, get up and get it yourself."
"Okay dad, I'm only having a bit of fun with him. that's all."
"Well, if you would’ve spent more time reading books like Jack and less time 'having a bit of fun’, then maybe you
wouldn't've ended up working down the pit like me."
Joe got up and got himself a drink. That's not like dad to take Jack's side against me, he thought. Suddenly, Joe was in a bad mood and felt resentment towards his little brother.
One by one the family arrived home. After their evening meal Joe and his dad set out for their nightshift, John went out to play with his friends, and Helen started getting ready to go out for the evening. Jack retired to the sofa to read a book, Jess jumped up and joined him.
A knock came to the door, Jess's ears pricked up, Jack's mum went to answer it. "Hello Tom, John's out playing, I think he's on the reck."
"It's not John I've called for, is Jack in?"
"Oh Right, yes he is, come in. Jack, Tom Ford's here."
Oh god, Jack thought, what does he want with me? "Hello Tom," Jack said sitting upright. Jess reluctantly jumped down from the sofa and stretched her legs.
"I wondered if you wanted to come out for a while?" Tom asked.
"Mum, is that Janet?" Helen called out coming down the stairs.
"No, it's a friend of Jack's." Helen came into the lounge anyway, just out of curiosity. "Oh, ay-ah Tom, how are you? she said on discovering who this friend of Jack's was.
"Fine thanks."
"How's your mum?"
"Yes, Tom" Victoria echoed, " How is your mum Tom, I haven't seen her for a while."
"Oh, she's okay thanks, Mrs Davies."
"Well, are you going out Jack?" his mother asked.
"Oh, I don't think so Tom, but thanks for calling."
"Go on Jack, it'll do you good." Helen coaxed.
"Come on Jack, we'll go skimming stones or something."