I acknowledged to myself that I had been stupid and reckless by relying on gambling to make me rich although I still believed that if it was done diligently and with patience, betting on the horses could yield the wealth that I wanted. The problem was that I didn’t have the time. I had lost almost three quarters of the money that had been in my aunt’s investment account and I had to replace it urgently. If Misses Phillips found out what I’d done, the Child Welfare Board would limit my access to the account severely or even stop it completely. I would then be forced to find a job, and with my limited academic qualification it would inevitably be a menial job; something that I found impossible to accept.
The more I thought about my predicament, the more obvious it became that I had to do something drastic. Either I had to take a huge chance and bet what was left in the investment account on one do-or-die bet and hope and pray that it would come off, or I had to resort to something illegal such as stealing something valuable. And the only valuable thing that I could think of was the money that Mister Eksteen took to the bank on the mornings after each race meeting. I tried to analyse the two possibilities.
If I used what was left in the investment account on one big bet and it didn’t come off, what was the worst that could happen? My income would be severely curtailed and monitored and I would be forced to find employment. I would still own the house and, if I was patient, I could take out a bond on the house when I turned eighteen. And owning the house meant that I wouldn’t have to pay rent, usually the biggest monthly expense facing people who didn’t own a house and rather rented their accommodation. And, who knows? The Child Welfare people might find me a nice easy job that paid well and that I enjoyed doing.
On the other hand, if I resorted to crime and got caught I would end up going to jail. Unless, of course, there was no violence involved and I appeared before a lenient judge who treated me as a juvenile and a first offender. Then I would probably get a suspended sentence and I would still have the money in the investment account and the house. And if the Child Welfare people found me a decent job, I wouldn’t be all that badly off. And if I wasn't caught I'd have everything that I wanted.
I gave myself a week to come to a decision.
***
“Your Honour.” Paul Greave, my attorney, said, addressing Judge Warren Bester. “Once again we would like Garth Gilmore to step down from the witness stand and allow Cindy Bedford to continue with her testimony.”
The Judge nodded.
CHAPTER 7
“Cindy.” my attorney, James Foster, said after I’d made myself comfortable on the witness stand. “You were telling us about your having left school and starting your job as an assistant accountant at Checkers. You also told us about the start of a more meaningful relationship with Garth Gilmore. I’d like you to continue from where you left off, please.”
***
It was now the year two thousand and seven and I would be turning seventeen in June. I continued to work diligently at my job and when my birthday finally arrived, I received the salary increase that the Checkers management had promised me. The increase helped a great deal as, although my father had demanded a similar percentage increase in my rent, I was still determined to leave home the minute I turned eighteen and needed to get as many household items of my own before this happened. I was also determined to save as much money as I could as I was resolute that I would avoid any kind of debt.
My relationship with Garth flourished, although the effort that it took came mainly from me. Garth showed a disturbing indifference to our relationship which often left me frustrated and unhappy. He seldom showed any real affection for me, even during our love making and, if we went anywhere together, I was always the one to take his hand. And as the weeks went by he seemed to become more and more pre-occupied and withdrawn, and whenever I asked him what was bothering him, he became angry and dismissive.
One Saturday afternoon after we’d made love and were lying on the bed in Garth’s bedroom, I tried once more to break through the invisible wall that was steadily growing between us. Garth was lying next to me staring up at the ceiling.
“Earth to Garth. Earth to Garth.” I said. “Come in Garth.”
Garth glanced at me.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“Well, you seemed so far away that I thought you were in outer space.” I said. “What’s bothering you?”
“How many times must I tell you that nothing’s bothering me?” Garth said.
“Come on, Garth.” I said. “I can see that you’re worried about something. You’re becoming more and more withdrawn and distant. You know, I’m not just your lover; I’m your friend as well.”
“I told you; there’s nothing worrying me.” Garth said.
“You can say that until you’re blue in the face.” I said. “But I know that something’s wrong and it’s worrying you. I may not be able to help you but it’s often helpful if we talk to each other about our problems. Is it me that’s causing the problem?”
I could see that Garth was becoming angry.
“What’s wrong with you, Cindy?” he asked. “I keep telling you that nothing’s wrong but you won’t believe me. Watch my lips: There is nothing bothering me.”
“Okay.” I said.
Garth got off the bed, pulled on his trousers and walked out of the bedroom. I felt devastated and so helpless. I wanted desperately to get closer to Garth, and yet, by doing this, I seemed to be driving him away. All my life I had tried not to anger people and now I had inadvertently angered the one person that I really loved.
I heard Garth go into the kitchen and open the fridge. He cracked open a can of beer and walked along the passage and into the lounge. He switched on the television and I heard him sit down on the couch. From the sound of the commentary I could tell that he was watching that afternoon’s horse race meeting.
I climbed off the bed and got dressed. I went to the kitchen, got myself a beer and went into the lounge. I sat down next to Garth. A race was in progress.
“Which one did you back?” I asked.
Garth glanced at me quickly and then looked back at the television.
“What makes you think that I backed one of them?” he asked as he continued to stare at the screen.
“Garth.” I said. “I’m neither blind nor stupid. You never used to have the slightest interest in horse racing but now you watch the races every Saturday afternoon, there are race meeting programmes on the table in the kitchen, on your desk next to your computer and even on your bedside table. I know that it’s your life and your money and I have no right to interfere with either of them but I’m your friend and I care and worry about you. Anyone can see that you’re worried about something. All I’m trying to say is that, if I can help in any way, please tell me.”
Garth was watching the television screen so intently that I felt sure that he hadn’t heard a word that I’d said. As the race ended he sighed.
“Damn!” he said.
“Your horse didn’t win.” I said.
Garth glanced at me angrily, stood up and left the room. I heard him get another beer from the fridge. He came back to the lounge and sat down on the couch next to me. He opened the can and took a sip.
“You’re quite right when you say that it’s my life and my money.” he said. “And I don’t need any help with either of them. Everything’s great. Okay?”
Feelings of fear, anger, frustration and helplessness had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember and now these feeling were reinforced by Garth’s indifference towards me. On top of this, my father seemed determined to find an excuse that he could use to assault me and I couldn’t help feeling that this stemmed from the fact that in less than a year I would be eighteen years old and free to leave his house without needing his consent. And I was determined to do just that. Not for a single second would I remain there for longer than I had to.
By now my body was almost fully developed, something that thr
illed me and made me feel proud of myself. I was excited every time I saw the lust in the eyes of boys as well as mature men whenever I caught them staring at me. I was also quite a bit taller than my father and this seemed to add to his anger. The fact that he had to look up to me whenever he shouted at me somehow made him feel inferior and to counter this he began to berate me for my misdemeanours while we were eating our meals at the kitchen table as, when we were seated, I didn’t appear to be that much taller than him. But I still had a terrifying fear of him. His anger was frightening in its intensity and the violence that he threatened to unleash on me was still a real possibility. I therefore took great care not to antagonise him, even though there were times when, no matter what I did, he would become infuriated with me. Then, about six weeks after my seventeenth birthday the inevitable happened.
My mother and I were sitting at the kitchen table eating our supper when we heard my father arrive at the front door. As usual he had been drinking at his club and, by the way he struggled to open the door, it was obvious to us that he was drunk. Finally he got the door to open and stumbled into the house, almost falling as he turned to close the door, having managed to slam the door closed with a great deal of swearing and cursing, he turned towards the kitchen and, with his first step, tripped over the carpet in the passage. He flung his arms out and fell flat on his face.
I was sitting at the far side of the table facing the front door and as my father crashed to the floor, I let out a nervous laugh, not so much because of my father’s drunken antics, but in fear of what he might do in his inebriated state.
Not only did my father hear me laugh, he looked up so quickly from where he lay on the floor that I was unable to change my expression before he saw me. His face went red with fury. He staggered to his feet and lunged into the kitchen, his eyes wild with rage.
“So, you think that my falling over the rug was funny?” he screamed at me. “You fucking little bitch! I’ll show you what happens to sluts like you who laugh at me!”
I was paralysed with fear and before I could move my father leant over the table and punched me as hard as he could. Even in his drunken state, his aim was good and his fist hit me directly on my left eye. The force of the blow knocked me and the chair I was sitting on over backwards. The back of my head hit the hard kitchen floor and I lost consciousness.
When I regained consciousness I was still lying on the kitchen floor and my mother was sitting next to me and gently wiping my forehead with a cool damp cloth. I winced as pain lanced through my head. I also couldn’t see out of my left eye.
“Don’t try and get up.” my mother said. “Just lie still until you’ve regained your senses.”
“Where is he?” I asked.
“He’s in the bedroom lying on the bed fast asleep and snoring like a drunken tramp.” my mother said.
“My head hurts and I can’t see out of my left eye.” I said.
“Yes. You banged your head on the floor when you and the chair fell over.” my mother said. “And your eyes badly swollen from the punch your father gave you.”
“Mom.” I said, my voice shaking with shock. “I know that I can’t legally leave here until I’m eighteen but I don’t care. I’m leaving tonight.”
My mother nodded.
“I understand, Cindy.” she said. “And I won’t try and stop you. But where will you go? Can you afford to live on your own?”
“No, I can’t.” I said. “But I will not stay here a minute longer. Garth Gilmore, the boy I was at school with and have been going out with since we left school, has offered to let me live in his house. You know; the house that he inherited from his aunt in Zinnia Street. I’m going to take up his offer.”
“Is that wise?” my mother asked. “He can’t be much older than you.”
“Yes, he’s the same age as me.” I said. “In fact, I’m a few months older than him. And apart from the house, he also inherited some money. So it’s not as if I’ll be a burden to him.”
“But what will people say?” my mother asked. “Two seventeen-year-olds living together.”
“Mom.” I said. “This is two thousand and seven; not nineteen fifty seven. Lot’s of young people live together.”
“Your father will try to stop you.” my mother warned.
“If he does, I’ll lay an assault charge against him.” I said. “I’ll fight him with everything I can; but I’ll never come back here!”
My mother looked down at me and I could clearly see the helplessness and despair in her eyes. Slowly she struggled to her feet and leant down to help me stand.
“Try and stand up.” she said.
Slowly and painfully I stood up, holding onto the kitchen table to steady myself. My whole body shook from shock and pain.
“What do you want to do?” my mother asked. “You must get your eye seen too.”
“I’m going to ‘phone Garth and ask him to come here and help me move.” I said. “But I think that you should lock the bedroom door. When Garth sees my eye he’ll be very angry.”
My mother’s eyes opened wide with fright.
“Don’t worry, mom.” I said. “I’ll see that Garth doesn’t do anything silly. But lock the bedroom door in any case.”
“I think that you should get Garth to take you to the hospital first.” my mother said. “Your eye looks terrible.”
I nodded and walked uncertainly to my bedroom. My cell phone lay on my bedside table. I ‘phoned Garth.
“Garth, it’s Cindy.” I said when he answered. “I need your help. There’s been some trouble at my parent’s house. Can you come here please?”
“Okay.” Garth said. “I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
By the time Garth arrived at the house my mother had locked the door to the bedroom where my father lay on his back on the bed snoring loudly. I had also had enough time to bathe my eye in warm water and cover it with some cotton wool.
“Christ! Who did that to you?” Garth said when I opened the front door and he saw my damaged eye. “I’ll kill him!”
“Please, Garth.” I said. “Don’t make a fuss. It was my father and he was drunk. He’s passed out in the bedroom. Will you please take me to the hospital casualty department so that I can have my eye seen to? I don’t think it’s been damaged; it’s just badly swollen.”
Garth took a deep breath and nodded.
“Okay.” he said. “Let’s go.”
As we walked to the nearby hospital I told Garth what had happened.
“Christ, Cindy.” Garth said. “You’ve got to get out of that house. You know that my offer still stands. Come and stay with me.”
“Okay, Garth.” I said. “But only until I’m able to afford my own apartment.”
“That’s fine with me.” Garth said. “I’ll help you move your things after we’ve been to the hospital.”
“Before we go there,” I said, “Have you got a camera?”
“Yes.” Garth said. “My aunt had a small digital camera. It’s in the bedroom cupboard. What do you want a camera for?”
"I want to take photographs of my eye so that I can use them to threaten my father if he tries to force me to come home” I said. “I’ll threaten to lay a charge of assault against him and use the photographs as evidence.”
“Good idea.” Garth said. “Let’s go and take the photos now. Then we can go to the hospital.”
We hurried to Garth’s house where he took a number of photographs of my swollen eye. He then loaded them into his computer and printed them. He put the prints into a large envelope.
“Okay.” Garth said. “Let’s go to the hospital.”
The doctor at the casualty ward inspected my eye carefully.
“The eye itself isn’t damaged.” he said. “You must have been able to close it before the blow struck. I’ll cover it with a bandage and give you some anti-inflammatory ointment to help reduce the swelling. You’re also suffering from very mild concussion as a result of the blow to the back of your head.”
“Can you give me a sick note?” I asked.
“Yes.” the doctor said. “You must give the eye a chance to recover without straining it. Stay at home for three days and then come back here and I’ll have another look at it. As far as the concussion’s concerned I want you to rest as much as possible. Don’t do anything strenuous and if the headache persists for more than a day come back here. I’ll give you some tablets that will ease the pain.”
With my eye heavily bandaged, a large tube of ointment, a container of painkillers and the sick note, we left the hospital.
“I don’t think that we should go to my parent’s house now.” I said. “My father may wake up and try to cause trouble. I’ll ‘phone my mother and tell her that we’ll fetch my things tomorrow morning after my father’s left for work.”
“Good thinking.” Garth said. “Because if I see the bastard I’ll probably break his neck!”
“No, Garth.” I said. “You mustn’t think of doing anything to my father. You’ll only make things worse. Just leave it. What happened can’t be changed. The important thing is that I get out of their house. And we’re doing that now.”
Spending a whole night in bed with someone I loved was an amazing experience and I was surprised at the feeling of assurance that Garth’s presence next to me gave me. I woke up several times during the night and carefully put out my hand to assure myself that Garth was really there. For the first time in my life I felt really safe and, when I woke up in the morning I experienced a wonderful feeling of tranquillity. It was if a huge load had been removed from my shoulders. Garth’s steady breathing next to me as he slept made me feel utterly protected.
My eye was still painful but my headache had gone. Garth woke up and we made love. Then we showered together, dressed and had breakfast in the kitchen. I washed the dishes and looked at my watch.
“My father will have left for work by now.” I said. “Let’s go and get my things.”
Before we left the house I ‘phoned Misses Hawkins at Checkers and told her that I’d had an accident and wouldn’t be at work for the next three days at least. As we left the house Garth handed me the envelope of photographs that we’d taken of my swollen eye.
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