‘Katie, how are you?’
She sounds as though she had a late night, or perhaps an early morning.
‘Irina. My life here has gone rotten if you know what I mean. I’m going to make the move.’ Silence. ‘Is that okay? I’ve got nowhere to stay.’
‘Yes, sorry. I’m just surprised. No problem. Relax. I’ll ring you in five minutes and we’ll sort it out.’
‘Sure.’ I hear a man’s voice as the phone line goes dead. It sounds like Gregor. I search my feelings and realise I have none. All I hope is it won’t complicate things.
It will be a long five minutes. Mai always told me silence was the answer. Still your mind and let it do its job. Anything was worth trying even though I never managed much in prison. I haven’t tried it for years. I think of her and empty my mind of the rest. Images of Bill and Thorn form and dissolve. After a few moments, I surprise myself as a sense of clarity comes over me.
There are only two things of immediate importance. Number one, I need to get away. I don’t keep my money in the bank. There’s nothing I can’t leave behind. And either friends will help me or they won’t; that decision is out of my hands. However, should I go before tomorrow? Because number two is Thorn.
He controls my future. Thorn wants to possess me in the way many have tried. People like that don’t stop until they get what they want or you control them. Once he realises I’m gone, I’ll need to be a ghost. With new make-up I can look totally different. I’ll dress so no one would guess from where I came. My striking body-art and dyed hair will be further camouflage. Eventually, I’ll be forgotten.
My phone rings and I nearly drop it. The caller has withheld their number.
‘Hello.’
‘Hi, how are you?’ It’s Radic. I keep it neutral, I’m not sure why. Surely my phone isn’t bugged, although maybe his is?
‘Things have changed, and I was hoping to make the move we discussed.’
‘No problem. We’ll help. I can get someone to collect you.’
Perhaps this mindfulness does work. ‘That would be brilliant.’
‘Text Irina your address. When do you want the van there?’
‘Okay. A car is fine. I don’t have much stuff.’ I take a deep breath. ‘Can you make it tomorrow?’
‘What time?’
‘In the afternoon…’
41
Waiting for Thorn
I don’t sleep. I can’t eat. I do nothing. The peace I found earlier vanishes in a haze of vivid flashbacks. The horror of what happened returns in single pictures. When I finally spoke to a shrink inside, the lady told me I had repressed the memories. She said it’s normal to bury horrible experiences. There were still events beyond recall that I vowed I would never acknowledge again.
The morning sun peeks through the curtains and I realise the barriers I put in place in my mind all those years ago were exactly that. They were only a dam against a river. The water boils now and pebbles fall from the structure. It will fail. It’s as sure as time.
I don’t know how I’ll respond. If I’m engulfed, I could lose control. The consequences before were life-altering. Life-ruining in fact. No one knows that more than me.
There’s no point packing as I need him to think everything is normal. I dress in my regular clothes, even down to my gloves. When the doorbell rings, I put red lipstick on my otherwise clean face and go to let him in.
It’s a mild day, and he loosens his tie. He avoids eye contact and looks beyond me. There’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead which today’s temperature isn’t warm enough to have caused. He’s here for something today. That’s a fact. I walk up the stairs behind him and notice he hasn’t even bothered to bring his briefcase.
He stands in the middle of the room, filling it. ‘Well, Katie. What’s new?’
‘Not much. My life is boring.’
He takes a few steps to the wardrobe and opens it wide. A box with my mementoes on the floor is briefly examined. ‘Now that’s not true, is it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’ve changed, Katie. You’re not so meek and mild. I respect that. You look healthy and strong. But you’ve forgotten where you came from.’
‘That’s rubbish. I’m aware of what I am.’
‘Why do I sense trouble?’
‘Perhaps I understand how the world works.’
His eyes narrow as he debates whether he likes that comment. ‘Do you regret what you did?’ he eventually asks.
‘Of course, I could ruin each new day with regret.’
‘For young people, regret, although painful to experience, can be a helpful emotion. That pain might cause refocusing and the pursuit of a new path. But do you feel remorse, for that is the higher calling?’
He’s right. I had it drummed into me on prison courses. Regret motivates a person to avoid punishment in the future, while remorse leads to avoiding the hurtful actions in the first place. Showing remorse means exposing and revisiting the past to learn from it — something I’ve been loathed to do. I’m about to reply when I notice the look on his face. He hasn’t come to counsel me.
Thorn steps toward me, reaches over my head, and pushes the door shut. ‘I ordered you to be honest with me.’
I attempt to remain calm but my core temperature rises a thousand degrees. What can he see? He can’t know anything.
‘Your job, Katie. You quit your job.’
I decide the best course of action is to keep him talking. The manager must have told him. My brain filters through every reason I can imagine for quitting that job.
‘I know.’
‘You’re supposed to tell me.’
‘I was seeing you today.’
‘Don’t give me that bullshit. Why did you resign? Are you going on a little holiday?’
I insert the confusion I planned into the conversation. ‘Actually, I have a friend who said I could stay at his house in Skegness. Is that okay?’
‘Is that right? I don’t think so. You are mine. I hope you’re not going to run.’
‘Of course not. Where would I go? And with what? One of the managers was perving on me. The job sucked anyway. An agency on St. Andrew’s Street has assembly jobs for more money. They’ve said I can start next week.’
He considers the answer.
‘You’d better not be jerking me around. I believe today is a very good time for us to evaluate our relationship.’
He’s so close, I feel his warm breath on my hairline. He puts his finger under my chin and lifts my head so I stare into his dark-brown eyes.
‘You are different. That lipstick suits you. You look…’ I sense he wants to say pretty but stops himself. ‘You know I split up with my girlfriend. This job is stressful, you see. All the lies erode your humanity. It really pisses me off. You’ve let me down, Katie, and now you need to make amends.’
‘I’m not sleeping with you.’
A finger traces my jawline and moves up the side of my face to the top of my head. With his hand flat on my crown, he applies pressure. ‘Who said anything about that?’
On my knees again, I steel myself for the task ahead. Ever since I heard he’d made the other girl do this, I knew that I would be unlikely to escape the same fate. I undo his belt and am unsurprised to find the lack of underwear. The size of his manhood is a shock. Not long but thick and angry. I prise it free and hear him catch his breath.
‘Not taking your gloves off?’
‘I thought you’d prefer that.’
‘Whatever. You girls can be mean with your nails. Get started.’
He’s clean but disgusting, if that makes sense. Sadly, I’ve done worse. I try to empty my mind again, but with my mouth full it’s impossible. I decide no one will use me again like this. Rage flushes through my system and an ever more influential part of me says bite it off. What would the authorities do after that? I look up. His face is an unusual mix of anger and ecstasy.
I have no doubt whatsoever from that expression he would kill m
e if I bit down. Maybe I’m still not doing it right as I’m not convinced he’s enjoying it, but then, our gazes meet, and boom! He opens his eyes a few seconds later and they display disgust. He brings his hand back to slap me and I tense. Instead, he pushes me to one side and over.
He reaches down for his trousers and slowly tucks himself in. As he leaves, he grins. ‘I’ll see you here next week. Same time. Same place. Same thing.’
When the door closes, I spit on the floor.
42
A Bottle of Mouthwash Later
The man who arrives is one of the three quiet men from the club; the guy with the scary eye. He frightens the shit out of the postman. Radic listened to what I’d said and sent a normal car. Tony introduces himself by stating his name. He makes me wait in the room while he carries my things down. When the last item has gone, he looks at me and nods.
‘Two minutes. I wait in car.’
After he’s left, I peek under the bed and in the wardrobe for the last time, even though I have done it twice already. I leave my keys on the table, adjust the handle so it will lock, and pull the door closed. I wonder who will open it first and how; the landlord with his master when he fails to receive his rent, or Thorn with his boot when he doesn’t get an answer?
I step outside and don’t look back. There is nothing behind. This place was never home. Tony keeps to the speed limits but we still make good time. I try to chat, but I’m on the side with the ruined eye and find it hard to focus on anything but that. He parks at the rear of the pub at five p.m. and I follow him up to the club. Radic and Irina are waiting. They hug me. I turn to thank Tony, but he’s gone.
Radic departs to fetch water after I decline vodka, leaving us girls to chat.
‘Radic has a room ready for you. We’ll be neighbours.’
‘I thought I’d be more unsettled. Somehow, I know it’s the right decision.’
‘What made your mind up?’
‘Two things. My probation guy was as we feared. I can’t live under those rules and this is my only way out.’
‘No problem. We’ll have fun together. Won’t we Radic?’
He places cold bottles in front of us and smiles. ‘Not too much fun. This club will be busier soon. There are businessmen coming, and I’ll need my best girls to run the show.’
I see my reflection in the mirror. I’m washed out. I start from here. The new me will save money, finish her tattoos, take holidays, and live again.
‘Blonde hair.’
‘What’s that, Katie?’ asks Irina.
‘I’m going to go blonde.’
‘Well, okay, I’ll do it for you.’
‘Umm.’
‘Cheeky. I was a trained hairdresser. There are lots of exciting things you don’t know about me.’
I sheepishly smile at Radic. ‘I will need a new ID. Is that okay? I’ll pay you.’
‘A foreign one you can have for free. If you want British, then you’ll have to contribute. It’ll take longer as well. There’s no rush. Nobody knows you’re here. Begin again now your decision is final. You’ve made a good call. Screw the courts. You did your time for a mistake as a young girl. It’s not fair that it ruins the rest of your life.’
‘Thank you. I’m still not sure why you’re helping me. It would help if you were honest, even if I may not like it.’
He smiles and then laughs. ‘In a way, that is why. You are honest. I need tough women to work in a place like this. I prefer them to be attractive too. The men enjoy more. You can handle yourself. Irina said to help you. That’s good enough for me. If I tell the truth, it’s because you are also a criminal. You won’t be going to the police at a moment of weakness. You know the score.’
Radic doesn’t pull his punches. I appreciate that but make a mental note to probe Irina for exactly what he does. My own virtue is not without doubt. Now I experience recollections of my past, I worry how responsible I am for the violent crime I committed. It’s a worrying thought as my future heads in a similar direction.
‘Wait a minute,’ says Irina. ‘What was the other thing? You mentioned two reasons why you chose to leave, but you only said one.’
‘I bumped into the man who ruined my life. In the street, in broad daylight, if you can believe it. You said I would tell you my story when I was ready. That time has come.’
43
The Eleventh Memory - Age Seventeen
I was seventeen and struggling along with my college course. The atmosphere in the farmhouse had been foul. The loss of his wife ate into Ted so badly that he could see no joy in anything. He refused to eat even if I left a cooked meal out for him. Work was the only thing that distracted him. We would spot him on his tractor in the dusky distance or tinkering in the shed by flashlight with various pieces of farm machinery.
At home, he brewed tea, sat in the posh lounge in one of the armchairs, and smoked. All night. I’d never really been in that room until he ordered me to collect his cups from there. Erin said it was kept nice for visitors, but none ever went in there. Those seats became unfit for visitors as Ted never got changed. By then, I don’t think he showered or bathed either.
That evening, we’d had a row as usual. He picked the fact we’d run out of washing-up liquid and went off on one. The days of me arguing back stopped many months before as Ted would build himself up into a frightening rage.
The weird thing was we always did the shopping list together on Friday night. He drove me to the shops and waited in the car every Saturday while I bought the groceries. It was as much his fault as mine.
Sometimes he would say he fancied an ice cream when we arrived. I’d buy a pack of four and we’d eat two each, just like we did years before. It was as though being in the house or around the farm sickened him. But we had to return, and the murderous looks over the slightest misdemeanours resumed.
That night’s row had been epic because I’d had enough. The boys were leaving for the Merchant Navy the following day. Simon regularly clashed with Ted and kept out of his way. Bill still worked hard for him, but an exciting world was out there. Incredibly, Ted blamed me for them wanting to see it.
I refused to waste my breath defending myself. I told him that I would also leave soon. He’d shouted “Good” at me and stormed out the house. The problem with that was I had nowhere to go. There were college friends but no one I saw away from there. I’d let myself become isolated at the farm. The boys had given up asking me if I wanted to join them by this point.
It was Simon who found me lying on my bed feeling sorry for myself. He told me that they were having a little party at the barn. Just him, Bill and the twins. A last blast before they left.
‘Go on, Katie. It will be a laugh. A few drinks and a fire. Like old times.’
‘I don’t know. It’s freezing tonight.’
‘We’ve got blankets and whisky, and Jordan’s nicked five steaks from his dad’s freezer. It’s our final night, and I’m never coming back here. Bill neither. Come and say goodbye.’
And so, I said yes.
The derelict barn perched on the edge of the land, but the roof was sound. We’d played in it for years. Judging by the number of empty bottles and cans outside when I arrived, they had found new games to enjoy there. The twins turned up and, for a while, we could have been young again. Apart from the alcohol that was.
I rarely drank but, perhaps because of the argument and feeling lonely, I joined in with enthusiasm. I remember thinking everything was hilarious and wondered why had I stopped hanging about with these guys. They cooked the steaks but nobody ate them. We sat around as it got late and played drinking games. That’s when my recollection becomes hazy.
I recall Bill being dared to take his clothes off and doing it. Simon refused, but I didn’t. Just my top half. I can’t believe I did it. It was so unlike me. The boys roared their approval, and I felt popular. For the first time in my life, I was desired.
I remember the sting of neat spirit as it trickled down my throat and the unf
amiliar burn as it hit my stomach. The fire, which was in an old steel wheelbarrow, cast strange shadows. Bill, Simon and Jordan resembled demons from hell as the logs sparked flames into the sky. A moaning Justin struggled to his feet and bounced around in a weird dance. The rest of us laughed.
I can’t recall complete details. The next hour has huge parts missing, like someone has taken large, random slices from a big cheesecake. It’s as though I zone back in and Bill is kissing me on one side and Simon on the other. I can hear strange noises from Justin while Jordan is cheering.
To my shame, I think I liked it. Simon’s tongue was gentle. Bill whispered in my ear. There was heat from naked bodies and warmth from the fire. I laughed and swayed and kissed them back. And then it changed.
Kisses hardened and fingers roamed. What had been soft became hard. There were too many hands. But I didn’t stop them.
The next event I recall is being pushed over a stack of huge tractor tyres. They were rough and coarse like the grip that crushed my breasts. My wrists were pulled away from me and my legs spread. I still didn’t stop them. Maybe I didn’t want to.
There’s darkness then for a while. Different voices behind me, different sizes inside of me. I heard laughs as they ridiculed useless Justin, and curses from Simon as he shuddered.
It was then that I spoke. At first, I’m not even sure if I made a sound; just moved my mouth in fear to the rhythmic pounding. A burst of deep warmth had me feeling as if I might explode. Finally, there was someone who was cruel. That’s when I found my voice.
There were only two of us then. My hands didn’t need holding as I had frozen. I shouted as he smacked my thighs. A bare guttural howl of denial broke from my mouth as a fist clenched my hair. He yanked it towards him and my back arched. And still he went on.
Shadows Of Regret Page 15