by Mel Sherratt
Aware that she wasn’t going to settle until she knew they were home safe and sound, she parted the curtains and stood staring out into the street. Across from her was her friend, Rose’s, house. The house was all in darkness: Rose was in Kos for a fortnight. She’d been gone for ten days of the two weeks that she would be away. Already, Cathy missed her so much. She’d been the first person Rose had met when she’d moved here with her husband, Arthur. She and Rich had been messing about in the street after a heavy snowfall as the other couple were moving into Christopher Avenue. Seeing Rose and Arthur struggling with a double bed, they’d rushed over to help. Rose had extracted the estate’s gossip from Cathy during the next few minutes and a loyal friendship had begun. Twenty-six years her senior, Rose had become the mother Cathy had always wanted. She dreaded the day when anything happened to her. Trust her to be away now when she needed calming down. Still, she’d be back in three days with a deep tan and a large bottle of Bacardi for her.
Cathy hadn’t really known her mother, Carole. Even before her father had left them when she was six, she’d learned to fend for herself. School was only two streets away, no main roads to negotiate, so she was capable of making the short journey alone. She made jam sandwiches for her lunch, soup for tea, then oven chips and fish fingers as she got older. Her clothes were always shabby, always worn that extra day before they were washed. Socks were grey, shoes were scuffed and she was teased for it at school. Reeking Riley she was called by the kids in her year. By the time she was ten, she was known as the quiet one without any friends.
As the years went on, Cathy managed to look after herself more. It became routine to get up early, clean the house, leave her mother in bed while she went to school. Afterwards, she would wash and iron and cook tea before starting on her homework. If Carole was home for her return, she’d more than likely be sleeping off a hangover before going out again. Carole Riley turned to drink to blot out her non-existent life and her daughter turned into herself to block out hers.
After the third spell in hospital, Carole’s liver failed. Cathy was sixteen when her mother took her last breath. The housing association claimed their house back and moved her into a block set up for homeless teenagers on the Mitchell Estate. The rooms were filled with girls, two in each. A woman in the flat downstairs was meant to look out for them. She was a type of warden, if Cathy remembered rightly, but she didn’t do a very good job of things. Still, it was here that she met Tina Unwin.
Tina Unwin told Cathy she was only intending on staying for a few weeks until she got her life sorted. But five months later, she was still there. Cathy settled in too and they became friends instantly, which she really enjoyed. It was nice to have someone to laugh with, cry with, come home to and care for even. Yet in some ways, they were the worst months of Cathy’s life. It could be quite rowdy at the block. Cathy learned to fight to defend her few possessions. There was a huge turnover of tenants so there were always ructions as another girl moved in and tried her luck in becoming top of the pile.
She’d been there for six months when she met Rich. Rich Mason was nineteen and one of the Mitchell Estate’s notorious scallies. He was known for getting his own way. He would fight for it, steal for it. Some people said he would kill for it, but Cathy had never seen that in him.
Three months later, when Tina decided to try her luck with a guy she’d met in Preston, Cathy moved in with Rich and life had been good for a few months – until he’d been sent to prison for three years for robbery. She was evicted from his place and had gone off the rails but they’d still kept in touch. When he came out of prison after serving just over two years of his sentence, they hooked up again and married a year later. If it wasn’t for that one stupid mistake she’d made, life until he died would have been more than she had expected.
She sighed loudly and glanced up the street again but there was nothing. Where were they!
At half past eleven, Becky held on to Jess for dear life as she negotiated her way up Christopher Avenue.
‘Watch out, you stupid cow!’ Jess said for the umpteenth time as Becky fell forward, taking her along too. She fell to the pavement, grazing her knee on the kerb. ‘Ow! Anyone would think you’ve never had a drink before.’
Becky dropped with a thump too. ‘I can’t go any further,’ she slurred. ‘I don’t feel very well.’
‘Oh, God.’ Jess took a step away. ‘No more puke. I’m never going to look Danny Bradley in the eye EVER again. You made a right mess of the car. It’s a good job he dumped it.’ She laughed. ‘I bet the owner wouldn’t want it back. Do you think they’ll catch you because of your DNA in the spew?’
Becky threw up. Then she began to cry.
‘Jesus Christ,’ Jess moaned. ‘I can’t believe you have anything left in you.’
A window opened across the road. ‘Will you two shut your bloody mouths and get off home. Some of us are trying to sleep!’
Jess turned and raised her middle finger. ‘Wind your neck in, Archie Meredith,’ she shouted. ‘Weren’t you ever young, free and single? Why don’t you get a life?’
‘Why don’t you get a job, you scrounging cow? I work a ten-hour shift to pay for the likes of you to lie in bed all day and get pissed every night.’
‘Ooh, chill out fat bastard and cop a load of this.’ Jess pulled up her top and flashed her bra. ‘There you go. Think of me while you get yourself off.’
‘Jess!’ Cathy whispered loudly as she walked up to them. ‘That’s enough!’ She placed a hand on Becky’s back. ‘Where the hell have you two been?’
‘Don’t… feel… very well,’ Becky managed to slur. ‘My head’s spinning.’
‘She’s such a lightweight,’ said Jess. ‘I wish I’d never bothered with her.’
‘You shouldn’t have taken her out at all,’ Cathy hissed.
‘She’s making all the noise, not me.’ Jess was unaware that she was shouting too.
‘Move them on, Cathy, or I’ll ring the association tomorrow,’ a voice yelled across again.
‘I’m doing my best, Archie,’ Cathy replied. ‘Go in and I’ll deal with them.’
‘Yeah,’ shouted Jess. ‘Run along to wifey.’
‘Enough, Jess! Get in the house, right now!’
Jess staggered a few steps further. ‘Okay, okay,’ she muttered. ‘I’m going. You can bring cheap-date along. It’s pathetic that she can’t take her ale. She’s sixteen.’
‘And you’re seventeen. Neither of you should be drinking yet!’
Cathy pulled Becky to her feet. But Becky wasn’t co-operating. She dropped to the floor again.
‘I can’t,’ she sobbed.
‘Yes, you can.’
‘No, I…’
Cathy pulled on Becky’s arm. ‘You’ll have to help me, Jess,’ she said.
‘Who do you think I am?’ Jess marched off as quickly as she could. ‘I’m not her bleeding babysitter.’
Cathy sighed and struggled with Becky on her own. ‘Come on,’ she encouraged as they made it to the gate. ‘Nearly there.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Becky was crying loudly now. ‘I didn’t mean to get into trouble. I’ve never dr–drunk vodka before.’
Cathy finally got her into the house, closing the front door behind her with a sigh. She guided her up the stairs and into her bedroom, all the time wondering if she would get a phone call or a letter from the housing association. She hadn’t had either for a while so it was bound to happen soon. Not all of the residents in Christopher Avenue were thrilled about Cathy helping out young girls in trouble.
She pushed open the bedroom door and Becky collapsed on top of her bed. Cathy took off her shoes, pulled the duvet from underneath her and covered her up. She ran a hand over Becky’s forehead. The poor child was white, her lips dry. Mascara ran in lines down her cheeks; red lipstick was smeared around her mouth. She watched her for a few moments before heading back out of the room. One thing was certain: she’d be having words with both of them in the morning.
<
br /> She’d reached the door when Becky screamed.
‘Don’t leave me! I feel sick again.’
Cathy sighed loudly, wondering if she’d ever get to bed that night. ‘You need to calm down, Becky. You’ll be fine once you’ve slept it off.’
‘No… I…’ Becky suddenly sat upright, a look of horror contorting her face. ‘My baby! Oh, God, I’ve killed my baby again!’
Cathy froze. Did she say – oh no. Please, not that.
‘Lie down,’ she told her, ‘and get some sleep.’
‘But my baby! Cathy, please tell me I haven’t done anything to hurt it!’
CHAPTER SIX
Cathy had just drifted off to sleep when she was awoken by a loud noise. She listened: there was someone banging at the front door. She flicked on the light. For Christ’s sake: it was two am.
‘Liz!’ Another bang. ‘Liz! Get out here now.’
Cathy flung her bedroom window open and peered down. ‘Will you stop making that bleeding racket!’ she whispered loudly. ‘It’s Kevin, isn’t it?’
‘So what if it is?’
‘She doesn’t want to see you.’
‘So? I want to see her.’ Kevin peered up. ‘And who the fuck are you? Where’s my daughter? CHLOE!’
‘Be quiet or else you’ll have the whole street awake!’ From her position up high, Cathy could see exactly how Kevin McIntyre could intimidate his wife. He was tall, broad and very capable of his bad boy role, his angry temperament ready to take on the world. In his drunken rage, he was neither attractive nor unsightly, just plain old nasty.
‘I don’t give a stuff if I wake up the whole frigging universe! Liz! LIZ!’
‘Will you lot ever shut UP!’ The window opened across the street again. ‘I’ve got to get up at five thirty. At this rate, it won’t be worth going back to sleep.’
‘Mind your own business, you nosy bastard!’ Kevin yelled across to Archie Meredith. ‘I’m staying here until I see my wife. LIZ!’
‘I’m warning you, Cathy. I’ll be on the blower tomorrow. I’m sick of this every bloody night.’
‘Look, Archie. I –’
‘Piss off, you wanker!’ Kevin shouted and then turned back to Cathy. ‘Tell her to come down or I’ll kick the fucking door in.’
‘Come back in the morning when it’s light and you’re sober.’
But Kevin wasn’t going anywhere. He pulled back his head and yelled.
‘LIZ!’
‘I’ll have to go down to him. He won’t let up until I do.’
Cathy turned to see Liz standing in her pyjamas, a cardigan clutched tightly around her middle.
‘No, he’s really drunk at the moment. Maybe you’d be better speaking to him tomorrow, when he’s calmed down.’
Liz shook her head, close to tears. ‘He knows where I am now. He won’t give up until he’s seen me. And I don’t want to get Chloe upset. She’s still asleep but she won’t be if he carries on.’
Cathy threw on her dressing gown. ‘I’m coming down with you but you’re not to open the door.’
‘But –’
‘You know full well what he’s capable of. Don’t give him the chance.’
‘If I don’t see him now, he’ll come back again and again. Then where will I go?’
‘I’ve told you, you can stay here for as long as you want. I’ve dealt with his kind before and –’
Kevin shouted through the letterbox, making them both jump. ‘I know you’re in there. I just want to talk.’
Before Cathy could stop her, Liz was down the stairs and opening the door the inch the chain allowed.
‘Liz! Wait!’
She followed quickly behind to see the door shooting out of her hands as Kevin kicked it hard. He grabbed Liz by the throat and slammed her up against the wall.
‘You bitch!’ he seethed. ‘You can’t fucking leave me!’
Liz put her hands over his, trying to loosen his grip. ‘Stop it!’
‘Let her go!’ Cathy grabbed the hockey stick that she kept behind the door and whacked it across the back of his knees.
Kevin’s legs buckled and he sank to the floor, letting go of Liz.
‘You mad bitch!’ he cried.
Liz gasped for air.
Cathy stood with the stick poised to strike again. ‘Thought you’d like a taste of your own medicine. It hurts, doesn’t it?’
Kevin stepped towards her but Cathy stood her ground.
‘Come any nearer and I’ll use it again,’ she warned. ‘You can’t control me like you’ve controlled her.’
Kevin rushed towards Cathy and she swung the stick again, this time cracking him on his shoulder.
Liz stood rigid, her back against the wall as she watched Kevin stumble. She stared at Cathy in awe. Where the hell did she get her strength?
‘Are you going or am I calling the police?’ Cathy addressed Kevin, again poised to strike with the stick.
Kevin used the banister to pull himself upright. ‘I’m going,’ he said, rubbing at his shoulder. ‘But I’m warning you,’ he shot round to look at Liz, ‘I’ll be back and when I do I’m not leaving without you or my daughter. You have no right to take her from me.’
‘I have every right!’ Liz screamed suddenly in a rush of adrenaline. ‘I won’t let you see her.’
Kevin smirked nastily. ‘You can’t watch me every minute of the day.’ In a flash, he grabbed Liz’s arm.
‘Mummy!’ They all looked up to see Chloe. She was sitting on the landing, her arms wrapped around her knees. Tears poured down her face.
Kevin hid his anger towards Liz in an instant and smiled. ‘Chloe! Come down here and give your dad a kiss.’
Chloe shook her head fervently, her eyes squeezed shut.
Liz pushed past Kevin and ran up the stairs. ‘Please leave us alone,’ she said as she took Chloe into her arms. ‘Look at what you’re doing to her. She’s so traumatised by what’s happened that she’s having nightmares.’
Kevin raised his arms in exasperation. ‘I’m going,’ he said. ‘But I will be back. You can count on that.’
‘I wouldn’t count on anything if I were you,’ Cathy retorted. She held open the front door. ‘Time to leave, I think.’
Twenty minutes later, after checking again on Becky, Cathy lay in her bed, wondering if that would be the last time she’d have to get up tonight. What a week, and it wasn’t over yet. Thank God it was Thursday tomorrow. There was nothing more grounding than a visit to the cemetery. Maybe she should take Jess and Becky with her, she thought, as she turned over. If they continued to behave as they had done tonight, either one of them could be joining her husband six feet under.
She switched off the bedside lamp and lay awake in the darkness, relishing the silence. The room was lit by a pale glow from the lamppost outside the bedroom window. It gave everything an eerie glow but she didn’t care. All she wanted to do was sleep.
Despite the nocturnal goings-on, Cathy was still up at six thirty the following morning. She frowned when she spotted a letter on the mat inside the front door. It was too early for their postman to have completed his round.
As she drew nearer, she noticed it was an envelope. She turned it to both sides but it was blank. Inside, a note was written on white paper with blue lines, the kind found in any newsagents or stationery shop. The message was clear and simple, written in capital letters.
‘I AM WATCHING YOU’
Cathy frowned again: only four words but with a hell of a meaning behind them. She wondered how long it would be before Kevin McIntyre would give up the fight. In her experience, some men didn’t bother coming after their women at all. Some caused trouble for a few nights. Very occasionally it took longer, involving the police and intervention from the courts. She had a gut feeling that this was going to be a long drawn-out affair and decided to hide the note for now. She lodged it inside her diary and pushed it to the back of the kitchen drawer. It wouldn’t be wise to let Liz see it yet: she’d been through enough las
t night.
Another hour later when she heard floorboards creaking upstairs, Cathy left for the cemetery. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts before drowning in everyone else’s, once their days started and they unburdened their problems onto her.
But the quiet roads gave her more time to think about last night. She couldn’t stop seeing the anger on Kevin’s face as he had his hands around Liz’s neck. Equally, she couldn’t rid herself of Liz’s sheer look of terror.
Finally, she arrived at the church and parked up. Emerging into the graveyard, she breathed in the unmistakeable smell of freshly cut grass. It had become customary for her to count the rows as she walked slowly along the pathway, turning right at number seven. Rich had been laid to rest in the sixth grave along.
‘It’s another lovely day, Rich,’ she spoke aloud with no awkwardness. ‘We’re having quite a run of them for April.’ She dropped to her knees in front of the gravestone, cleared away last week’s flowers from the base, rinsed out the steel water holder and carefully arranged the fresh blooms in their place, all the time chattering on.
‘We’ve got a really lively bunch in the house right now,’ she added. ‘I’m beginning to feel nearer to sixty years of age than forty – I’ll be grey before my time at this rate with all the worry. Still, I must admit I was feeling low when Cheryl got sent down – you remember, she got six months – but now it seems I might have bitten off more than I can chew. Becky is barely sixteen, and do you know what she told me last night? She’s pregnant! Then there’s Liz. She has a daughter Chloe, who’s only eight. She’s such a quiet little girl. Her father has been handy with his fists. I don’t know all of the details – I don’t want to know them really – but I have to be there to listen if needs be, don’t I? And sometimes that means asking awkward questions, but still. I suspect he’s been hitting Liz for a long time, the bastard.’ She paused for a moment before grinning. ‘I gave him a good seeing to last night. No one messes with Cathy Mason, do they?’
Her thoughts out in the open, Cathy kneeled for a while in the peaceful surroundings. Looking around, she noticed quite a few people now. A couple with a baby in a pram walked past and she smiled at them. How she wished she were still part of a couple.