Unfortunately, he was in no better mood than when he had left. ‘What’s this load of shite you’re watching?’ he demanded.
It was obvious what the programme was so Adele ignored his remark. Instead she stood up. ‘It’s OK. I wasn’t really watching it,’ she said. ‘You can switch it over if you like. I need to do some studying.’
As she walked out of the room, he muttered to himself, ‘Dead right, I can fuckin’ switch it over.’ Then his voice rose as he shouted, ‘I paid for the fuckin’ thing! Course I can watch it.’
Adele hurried up the stairs, desperate to escape his anger. It was a while later when her mother and brother arrived home. Adele braced herself as she awaited her father’s reaction.
‘Here’s the little bastard!’ she heard him shout. This was followed by the sound of her mother screaming. Then her father continued to rant while Peter howled as though in pain.
Adele shot down the stairs and raced into the living room. The sight that met her was worse than anything she had ever witnessed. Her father was pummelling Peter with his fists while hurling insults and abuse at him. Meanwhile, her mother was crying and pleading with Tommy to ease up on Peter.
It was obvious to Adele that her mother’s pleas were having no effect whatsoever. Momentarily stunned, Adele stared at the distressing scene with her mouth agape as blood pumped from Peter’s nose. Then she came to her senses, taking a brave stance, in contrast with how she was feeling inside.
‘Dad, stop it. For God’s sake! You’ll kill him,’ she cried, noticing how bloody Peter’s face was becoming.
Peter had raised his hands in a vain attempt to protect himself but the might of his father’s fists broke through them.
‘Come on, Mam! We’ve got to stop him,’ she shouted.
Adele then ran towards her father, grabbing her mother and forcing her to join her. Between them they tried to shield Peter from him. But nothing could stop Tommy. His anger had become too intense. He took a swipe at Shirley, knocking her out of the way. Then he continued to throw punches. Most of them landed on Adele while her mother seemed to be avoiding them.
‘Run, Peter, run!’ Adele shouted.
Fortunately Peter took note of her words and escaped from the house just as a particularly vicious punch landed on the bridge of Adele’s nose. The pain shot through her, sending her dizzy. She tumbled to the ground, unable to get up for a few seconds. Through bleary eyes she watched her father stagger out of the room in pursuit of Peter. She prayed he didn’t catch him.
Several seconds later, Tommy was back. ‘Little bastard’s gone,’ he said. ‘Just wait till I get my fuckin’ hands on him!’
Adele’s heart was racing. As her father stepped towards her and her mother, she trembled with fear.
‘Shouldn’t have fuckin’ stopped me,’ he mumbled before sitting down and ordering Shirley to make him a cup of tea.
Shirley went willingly, leaving Adele alone with her father. Adele’s face was sore. She could feel the bruises starting to form and her left eyelid was closing with the swelling. Tommy looked at her and for a brief time she thought she detected the faintest sign of remorse on his face.
‘You shouldn’t have got in the way,’ he murmured before switching his focus to the television.
Adele got up slowly and went into the kitchen. The aftershock of her father’s brutal attack took a hold of her and she broke down in tears, sobbing convulsively until her whole body was shaking.
‘Oh, Adele love,’ her mother said, putting her arm around her and shedding her own tears. ‘You shouldn’t get in his way when he’s like that. Look at the state of your face.’
Shirley’s words sickened Adele. Why hadn’t she done something instead of standing by while her husband gave her son a savage beating? And why was she so accepting of his actions? It was wrong. What he did was wrong! And there was no way her mother should have condoned that kind of behaviour. What kind of mother was she? But Adele was too traumatised and angry to discuss things with her even though she was anxious to find out what had happened at the police station.
When Shirley left her alone while she went to take Tommy his cup of tea, Adele took several moments to compose herself before tending to her injuries. Then she slipped out of the back door in search of Peter. She needed to make sure he was OK, and she’d make sure she found out from him everything that had happened.
Chapter 19
Adele spent almost an hour searching for her brother. The people she passed did a double take when they saw the state of her face. Some of them asked what had happened but she shrugged them off. It was more important that she found Peter. Nobody had seen him apart from one person who saw him from the back, running up their street, but he didn’t know where he went or which way he turned when he reached the top.
She even tried some of his friends’ houses but they hadn’t seen him either. The only place she hadn’t tried was her grandma’s house. Grandma Joyce would instinctively know there was something amiss and, given her present state of health, Adele didn’t want to worry her.
Thoughts of her sick grandma flashed through her mind. She was still waiting to see the consultant to find out what was causing her stomach problems. But Adele didn’t have time to dwell too much; she had to find Peter.
Eventually Adele gave up searching and made her way home. As she was walking along she noticed one of the local boys, Gary Healey, approaching from the opposite direction. Gary was a year older than Adele. He had always been one of the cool kids and had a reputation as a tough guy. He was also good-looking but Adele had never shown any interest in him. She didn’t see the point as he wouldn’t be interested in her.
As he drew nearer she became aware of his keen gaze. Remembering the recent incident with David and his friends following her visit to the library, she grew uneasy. She played out various scenarios in her mind, planning how she would react if he became nasty.
‘Jesus! You look as if you’ve gone a few rounds,’ he said.
Adele subconsciously drew her hand up towards her face, ‘I just had a bit of an accident, that’s all,’ she muttered.
He drew within a metre of her and stopped dead. Adele was scared. As she tried to step around him, she could feel the adrenalin pumping around her body. He mirrored her move, blocking her way. Adele looked at him, desperate to escape, her eyes pleading. He smiled as though taunting her. She looked around, ready to sidestep him and run.
But then he spoke again, and she noticed his concerned expression. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ he asked. ‘What happened to you?’ When Adele didn’t reply, he reached his hand up towards her face but she backed away. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘There’s a bit of blood coming from your nose. I was just trying to wipe it away.’
Adele reached her hand up to her face and ran it under her nostrils. She pulled her hand away, noticing the blood that was streaked across her fingers.
‘Shouldn’t you be getting that cleaned up?’ he asked.
‘I have already. I didn’t realise it was still bleeding,’ Adele said, her voice breaking on the word ‘bleeding’.
‘Come on, I’ll walk you back to your house,’ he said, putting an arm around her shoulder and turning her around.
She pulled away, shocked by the attention. ‘It’s OK, I’m fine,’ she said.
‘OK, as long as you’re sure,’ said Gary.
Their eyes met, then he seemed to hesitate as though he had something more to say but couldn’t find the words.
She was just about to walk away when he said. ‘I’ve been looking out for you. I’ve been meaning to ask…’ He paused, as though searching for the right words, before continuing. Then his next words came out in a flurry. ‘Do you wanna go out with me?’
Adele stared at him, incredulous.
‘Sorry, I know it’s bad timing,’ he added, ‘But it’s the first time I’ve seen you for a while.’
Adele was so preoccupied with her current problems that she replied instantaneously, ‘No, no I can
’t.’
‘OK… You sure?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, I mean, no. No, I can’t.’
Adele then rushed away before he had chance to say anything further. As she drew closer to home, all thoughts of her encounter with Gary Healey slipped from her mind. For the moment, she had more pressing matters to attend to.
When Adele arrived back home, she was relieved to hear that her father had gone out, but there was still no sign of Peter and she hoped he was all right. Adele noticed a bottle of witch hazel on the sideboard.
Following her eyes, Shirley commented, ‘I got it from her next door. Your eye’s come up something shocking. Let me dab a bit round it. Don’t worry, I’ll take care not to get it in your eye.’
Adele guessed that her mother must be feeling guilty because she had allowed Adele to bear the brunt of her father’s wrath when she tried to defend Peter. But she let her feelings pass. What was the point? Her mother would never change.
‘Let me just have a look at it first,’ said Adele, stepping up to the mirror. ‘Oh my God!’ she said, on seeing her swollen eyelid and the bruising to her nose. She must have looked a sorry sight when she bumped into Gary Healey.
‘Don’t worry. We’ll soon have it right,’ said Shirley, mechanically, but Adele wasn’t convinced.
While Shirley applied witch hazel, they talked about Peter’s time at the police station.
‘Oh, it was awful, Adele,’ said Shirley. ‘They made me feel like I was a bloody criminal myself. And my bleedin’ hands were shaking something wicked.’
‘What happened?’ asked Adele, willing her mother to get to the point instead of harping on about her own feelings.
‘What? Oh, Peter? They let him off with a caution. Apparently him and his mates were mucking about at that old abandoned factory and David Scott fell through the roof. Ended up in hospital. According to what he told the police, our Peter and Alan Palmer were up on the roof too and, when he fell, they did a runner and left him for dead.’
Adele looked at her mother with a doubtful expression on her face till Shirley continued the story.
‘Peter says he’s lying. They did see him fall but Peter and Alan were on the ground. They’d been shouting at him not to do it but he wouldn’t listen. And the next thing they knew there was this bloody big crash and the sound of breaking glass. Then David was nowhere to be seen. So they rang an ambulance and waited till it got there before scarpering.’
‘Hang on a minute,’ said Adele. ‘If they’d done nowt wrong, why did they scarper when the ambulance arrived?’
‘They were frightened they’d get the blame. You know what it’s like… give a dog a bad name and all that.’
Adele was amazed at her mother’s gullibility but, again, she kept her thoughts to herself. She had no doubt, however, that Peter and Alan were probably up on the roof with David when he fell.
Shirley was putting the lid back on the bottle of witch hazel when they heard the front door being opened. They cast a look of curiosity at each other. It was Peter.
‘It’s all right, he’s out,’ said Adele when he walked in the room.
Peter heaved a sigh of relief but remained silent as though he was still stunned by the attack.
Adele cringed at the sight of Peter’s face and her mother instinctively raised a hand to her mouth while her eyes filled with tears once more. His appearance was far worse than Adele’s. Both of his eyes were almost shut and his face was a mass of bruises. The swelling was so severe that it distorted his features.
Noticing her mother was also lost for words, Adele said, ‘You’d better sit down, Peter, while we put some of this witch hazel on your face.’
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ said Shirley, leaving Adele to care for her brother.
Adele started by filling a bowl with soapy water then soaking a flannel and using it to wipe away the dried blood that was now encrusted around Peter’s mouth and chin, and smeared over his cheeks. While she bathed, he winced several times, his inflamed flesh sensitive to even the slightest touch. Then she gently patted his face dry with a towel and applied some witch hazel. She noticed that his arms were also dotted with bruises so she treated them too.
‘I bet you two are hungry, aren’t you?’ asked Shirley.
Adele noticed the time. Ten past seven. It was getting late and they hadn’t eaten for hours. Neither she nor her mother had had chance to prepare a meal so Shirley made some toast. They sat in silence for several minutes drinking tea and eating.
When they had finished, Shirley persuaded Peter to go to bed and rest because of his injuries. A look of fear flashed across Peter’s face. None of them voiced their mutual worry; that Tommy might return and attack Peter once more. But Adele noticed how attentive her mother was being and she hoped that guilt would force her to step in if Tommy did return in another of his rages.
Eventually it was time for Adele to go to bed. Before reaching her own room, she passed Peter’s. She paused and knocked on the door.
‘Yes,’ said Peter.
She turned the handle and entered his bedroom where she saw Peter lying wide awake on the bed.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked.
From his prone position Peter attempted an awkward shrug.
‘You’ll have to stop getting into trouble, Peter,’ she whispered in as gentle a tone as she could muster.
‘Fuck off!’ he lisped through swollen lips. ‘I don’t need you having a go at me too.’
‘I’m not! I’m just saying… you don’t want to get on the wrong side of him.’
‘Fuck off, Adele. I’m sick of your Miss Goody-Goody act. I’ve always been on the wrong fuckin’ side of him. He’s sick in the head. Don’t you know that?’
Adele could see he was struggling to speak through his injuries so she didn’t want to press him anymore. ‘I’ll leave you to rest,’ she said, backing out of the room. ‘Just be careful, Peter. That’s all.’
Adele went to her own room and got ready for bed but she couldn’t sleep. Thoughts of her father’s vicious attack troubled her. Although she was used to seeing him hand out his punishments, this was the most violent one yet. There was no doubt in her mind that he was getting worse and she didn’t know how she would cope with the situation.
Peter was also on her mind. She realised that a massive chasm was forming between them. She couldn’t talk to him anymore and she was beginning to feel that the gulf between them was unbridgeable. But that didn’t stop her from caring about what happened to him. He was her younger brother, after all, and they’d been through so much together.
Part of her felt guilty. She had always been their grandma’s favourite. The support and encouragement from her grandma had stopped her from following the same path as Peter, who seemed to be rebelling against everything around him. Although Peter was sharp, he wasn’t clever at school and maybe he thought that crime was the best way to get on in life. She only wished she could convince him otherwise.
Adele thought back with fondness to when they were younger and she yearned to have the old Peter back. She and Peter had always looked out for each other and she wondered whether they would ever be that close again. Now it was all so different. They had each chosen their own way of life and she would just have to accept that their different outlooks had driven them apart.
While she lay there she anticipated her father’s drunken return home, and dreaded a repeat of the day’s earlier events. But something inside told her that he had done enough damage for one day. She had noticed the remorseful expression on his face when he saw her injuries. Maybe even he had a conscience.
Chapter 20
It was a few days later. Adele’s warning words to Peter hadn’t had any effect. He had his own thoughts on the subject. Who was she to tell him what to do, anyway? It was all right for her; she had always been the favourite. But he was the one who their dad always picked on. No matter what he did, his dad would always have it in for him, so why should he bother trying to please him?
He was currently engaged in a burglary with his friend Alan. They had picked a house in an affluent area, and waited until they knew the owners would be in bed asleep. Within minutes they were standing inside the lounge. Alan had already checked the location of the other rooms, noting that there was also a dining room at the front of the house with a kitchen beyond.
‘Tell you what, to save time, you go and see if there’s anything worth nicking in the other room while I get the TV and video,’ Alan whispered to Peter.
Peter nodded then crept out of the living room, crossed the front hall and eased open the door to the dining room. Spotting a mahogany cabinet at the far side of the room, he skulked over to it.
It had several cupboards, some of which were fitted with doors containing leaded glass panes. It was clear to see that there was nothing of value inside those. It was the cupboards without glass panes that Peter was interested in. He tried to open each of them in turn but, to his consternation, they were all locked.
Next, he tried the drawers. His luck was in. Neatly tucked into the corner of the top draw was an ornate key. He picked it up and was just about to try one of the locked cupboards when he heard the faint sound of voices. He thought they were coming from upstairs, drifting down from the room above him. Was he imagining it?
He stopped what he was doing, and listened intently. Yes, he could definitely hear voices, and they were coming from inside the house. He managed to pick out the sound of two different voices; one female and the other male.
Realising he needed to warn Alan, Peter dropped the key and sped towards the door. But before he reached it, he heard heavy footsteps at the top of the stairs.
‘What the hell’s going on!’ roared a man’s voice as his speedy footsteps descended the stairs.
Peter could feel a cold shiver of fear running through him. He was too late to warn Alan, so he dashed behind the door, planning to pounce on the man as he pushed it open. Then he waited.
But the man didn’t come inside the room. He took the other door instead; to the living room. As soon as Peter heard the man challenging Alan, he broke cover, dashed out of the dining room, across the hallway and towards the front door. A surge of adrenalin was driving him; his only thoughts were of escape.
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