Born Bad

by Josephine Cox

  Emotionally spent, she sat quietly on the floor, allowing herself to go over that last scene with Harry, all those years ago. ‘I remember how you looked, when I told you,’ she whispered lovingly. ‘I can still see the shock on your face.’ She began to rock backwards and forwards. ‘Harry Blake … Harry. My darling.’

  Most of all, she remembered him walking away, his shoulders stooped, and his every step leaden and reluctant. Then afterwards, when she could no longer see him, she could still hear his footsteps going away into the distance, out of her life for always. Then the awful silence. Oh yes, she remembered that most of all.

  ‘Was it really all those years ago?’ she asked herself now. ‘It seems like only yesterday.’

  She took a deep breath and spoke from the heart. ‘I hope someone else has you now, Harry,’ she murmured. ‘I want you to be happy. I truly do.’

  Scrambling up from the floor, she sat before the mirror. Taking up her make-up case, she applied a pinch of colour to her face, a smudge of mascara to disguise her tired eyes, and a soft pink lipstick that would lift the pallor of her face. Must be careful not to look like a cheap tart, she thought then gave a wry little laugh. ‘Though Lord knows, I’ve earned the label over the years.’

  While taking stock of herself, she looked down on her arms, at the jagged scars that told of her desperation after Harry was gone. Quickly now, she dabbed her finger into the jar of creamy foundation, tenderly stroking it into the marks, until they were hardly visible.

  The jade-green dress was a good choice, with its long sleeves, little upright collar and fitted waist. Putting it on carefully, so as not to spoil her make-up, she then slipped her bare feet into the smart black shoes with slim heel and open toe.

  Ready to face the world, and Pauline in particular, she stole a quick glance at herself in the mirror, thinking, I’d best be home before Phil gets back. He mustn’t see me like this, or he’s bound to think I’ve been with some other man.

  She laughed, a wry, harsh sound, ‘What other man would ever want me?’

  Disillusioned, she grabbed her bag and hurried out the door.

  As she came careering round the corner of Lord Street, the bus was already pulling in. Breaking into a run, she made it in the nick of time. Gasping and grumbling, she threw herself into the nearest seat. ‘You’re early!’ she told the conductor, as he turned the handle of his machine and tore off her ticket.

  ‘I’m not early.’ The conductor was an old fella with a peaked cap and a runny nose. ‘It’s you that’s late.’

  Cuffing his nose with the edge of his sleeve, he chatted about this and that, and the fact that his wife had left him these past six years. ‘Ran off with the bloody milkman of all people,’ he grumbled. ‘I wouldn’t mind, but it’s common knowledge how he’s never been able to keep a woman, on account of his pecker’s not up to scratch!’

  With that he ambled away, leaving Judy collapsing with laughter the minute his back was turned.

  After she’d composed herself, she concentrated on the reason for her errand, and wondered if Pauline would approve of the extra effort she had made with her appearance that morning.

  She needn’t have worried though, because Pauline was delighted.

  When she saw Judy step off the bus, for one wonderful moment she saw the real Judy she had known was always there. Most times Phil preferred his wife without make-up, hiding her true loveliness behind frumpy clothes and a washed-out face. ‘If you have a priceless diamond you don’t flaunt it to the world, or they’ll all be after it,’ he once said.

  Keeping Judy under wraps was his way of turning off any would-be admirers. That way he had her all to himself.

  ‘My!’ She looked at Judy and her happy smile said it all. ‘Judy Saunders, you look a million dollars. Once we’ve been to the doctor’s, I’ll treat you to a bite to eat, and maybe even a new outfit.’ Pauline had long wanted to dress Judy in nice clothes, but Phil was always there, watching, dictating.

  When Judy’s face fell at the mention of the doctor, Pauline felt the need to remind her of the real reason she was here. ‘You need a pick-me-up, or some kind of tonic to put the twinkle back in your eyes,’ she told Judy. ‘You’re still too thin and pale, even through all that make-up. Anybody else might not be able to notice, but I can.’

  ‘I don’t need to see a doctor,’ Judy pleaded. ‘I’ll eat better – fruit and fresh stuff, and I’ll make sure I go to bed earlier and not sit downstairs till all hours.’ Going to bed meant having Phil all over her, and lately she had grown to loathe the very nearness of him.

  ‘That’s not good enough, my girl.’ Pauline gave it to her straight as always. ‘I’ve heard it all before but this time, I’m not listening to you. First of all, the reason you don’t eat like you should is because you’re a bag of nerves. You’re like a little bird picking and pecking, always waiting for Phil to have a go at you for something and nothing, and as for going to bed earlier, you know you won’t, because the reason you stay downstairs is so he won’t force himself on you. So don’t you go giving me all that.’

  She was adamant. ‘You’re not eating, and you’re not sleeping. So no argument! I’m taking you to see the doctor and that’s that.’

  ‘But you just told me, I look great.’

  ‘So you do.’ Pauline was not letting her off that easily. ‘I also said no one would ever know how pale and thin you are underneath all that paint and powder. But I know! So if you’ve made yourself up to fool me or the doctor, you can forget it. What’s more, you made me a promise, and I mean to keep you to it. I don’t want you fainting on me like that ever again.’

  ‘I didn’t faint,’ Judy protested. ‘I don’t know what happened, but I did not faint!’

  ‘Trust me, one minute there we were talking, then you went down like a ton of bricks, and for a good five minutes you were out to the world. You were still groggy, even after Alan and I got you through to the back room. So we’re going to the doctor’s as arranged, and no argument.’

  Knowing how once Pauline had made up her mind, there was no changing it, Judy reluctantly agreed. All her make-up and pretty clothes had been in vain. She should have known. Pauline was not a woman who was easily fooled.

  And neither was the doctor.

  While Pauline remained in the waiting room, Judy was asked to go behind the screens, and partly undress.

  On first meeting, Dr Morris could see little wrong with Judy, except maybe for her nervousness, though once he began his examination of her, he was more concerned. ‘Are you a poor sleeper?’

  ‘I suppose so, yes, Doctor.’

  ‘Mmm.’ He placed his stethoscope on various points across her back, listening and taking mental notes, then he was looking into her eyes, pulling the lower lids down, and now he examined her hands and nails, paying particular attention to the bases of her nails, which were unusually pale. ‘Do you have a healthy appetite?’ he asked.

  From the answers she gave, he deduced that Judy neither ate nor slept well. He was also concerned that she flinched every time he was obliged to touch her.

  He could not help but notice the scars about her arms; in spite of the fact that she had obviously tried to disguise them with make-up. It wasn’t the first time he had seen self-inflicted wounds like this.

  Examination over, he stepped back, ‘Get dressed now, my dear. We’ll have a chat when you’re ready.’

  When he left her there in the cubicle, Judy was visibly trembling. I should not have come here, she thought, frantically throwing on her clothes. I should never have listened to Pauline.

  On emerging from the cubicle, Judy was asked to sit down. Sensing her nervousness, Dr Morris asked kindly, ‘Do you mind if I call you,’ he glanced at his notes, ‘Judy, isn’t it?’

  Judy nodded. ‘I don’t mind.’ All she wanted was to get out of there.

  ‘Right then, Judy, let me give you the good news. Firstly, you appear to be in fair health, not given to any disease or illness that I can see.’ Be
fore she could speak, he went quickly on, ‘although there are a few things I need to make you aware of.’

  Taking off his spectacles, he laid them on the desk. ‘I have to say, you do not weigh enough for your age and height. There is not an ounce of fat on your bones. More worryingly, you appear to be verging on being anaemic. Now this could be rectified by proper nutrition, enough sound sleep, and generally taking better care of yourself.’

  ‘I will,’ Judy was quick to assure him. ‘From now on, I’ll do what’s necessary to take care of myself, I really will.’ Hoping that was it, she gave a sigh of relief.

  But Dr Morris was not yet done. ‘There is one very important matter we have not yet discussed.’ Reaching out to take hold of her hand, he pointed to the scars. ‘Would you like to tell me about this?’

  Judy was shocked. This was what she had been afraid of. When he concluded the examination without mentioning the scars, she assumed he had not noticed, especially after she’d gone to such pains to disguise them

  ‘Well, Judy?’ Releasing her hand, he waited.

  Judy had never spoken of the scars to anyone – not to Pauline, not even to Phil when he asked her over and over, and had even grown violent when she refused to tell him.

  Sensing her dilemma, the doctor nodded. ‘It’s all right,’ he assured her. ‘You don’t have to talk about them if you don’t want to.’

  He began writing. ‘I want you to follow this programme for two weeks, then I would like to see you again. I’m also prescribing a course of iron, to counteract the anaemia.’

  ‘It was a long time ago.’

  Judy’s quiet statement caused him to stop writing and look up. He didn’t speak. He simply waited for her to go on, though it seemed an age before she spoke again.

  ‘There was … trouble.’ She bit her lip, the fear like a huge presence inside her. ‘I upset my family, and they threw me out.’ Ashamed, she looked away.

  Leaning back in his chair, the doctor silently willed her to go on.

  ‘I was … very young. It was difficult. I caused a lot of trouble.’ She could not bring herself to explain exactly what she meant by that. ‘Afterwards,’ she paused; it was almost as though she was back there, in that shocking situation, ‘I couldn’t be on my own any more, so I stayed with people of the streets. I went with anyone who would have me. One day, I was all alone in this place, and I didn’t want to live any longer.’

  Wiping away the tears, she hid her face from him. ‘It was not a nice place,’ she revealed in a small voice. ‘People had been in there. People like me, with nowhere else to go. The ceiling was hanging down, and some of the windows were broken … glass everywhere.’

  Taking a moment to breathe deeply, she never once looked at the doctor. ‘The people were long gone, but you could still feel them all around you. It was cold and dark … so dark.’

  She shivered, feeling that same, bitter cold. For a moment it was as though the dark enveloped her. ‘I found some long pieces of glass.’ When, for the first time, she looked up at the doctor, her expression told its own sorry tale. ‘You see, I had nothing at all. There was no one to care.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I didn’t want to go on.’

  As she spoke, she felt strangely relieved. She wanted him to know how bad it had been; even though he could never understand.

  ‘That night, someone found me – a tramp, I’m not really sure. They got me to hospital, where I was stitched up and kept in for a few days. They said I should talk to the welfare worker, but I begged them to send for my sister Nancy instead.’

  The doctor had a thought. ‘Was it your sister who made the appointment today?’

  Judy shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘So, did she come to you … your sister Nancy?’

  Judy nodded. ‘Yes. But then it was worse.’ The memories were so vivid. ‘I should never have asked her to help me!’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  She almost told him, but then the enormity of it all stopped her from going on.

  Horrified that she should have burdened the doctor with all of that, Judy suddenly clammed up. ‘Thank you for seeing me, Doctor Morris.’ Getting up out of the chair, she told him sincerely, ‘I really will try and look after myself better in future.’

  Disturbed by her story, the kindly GP told her, ‘It sounds like you’ve had a rough time of it. But you’ve come through whatever it was that set you off on the wrong foot.’ His smile was encouraging. ‘I had a friend once who used to say, “When you fall, the only thing to do is get up again”.’

  Judy smiled. ‘He’s right. But it isn’t easy.’

  ‘I know, but it can be done, if you really want it.’

  When she gave no reply, he tore off the prescription and brought it round to her side of the desk. ‘Certain things can haunt a person for ever,’ he suggested gently. ‘We might think we’re in control of a situation, but often the situation is controlling us.’

  Surprised, Judy looked up at him. That was right! She suddenly realised. That was it!

  ‘I can see you know what I’m getting at,’ he went on. ‘If you don’t seek help, you may never get over what it is that troubles you.’ When he saw the tears threaten, he gave a slow, encouraging smile. ‘All right, my dear. That’s all I wanted to say.’

  Handing her the prescription, he announced, ‘The receptionist will make your next appointment for you now, before you go running off.’

  Judy thanked him again, before going out to Reception, where she waited for her appointment.

  As soon as they got outside, Pauline was eager to know how she had got on. ‘Well, what did he say? And don’t go skimming over the bits that you didn’t like.’

  Judy tutted. ‘What makes you think there were bits I didn’t like?’

  ‘I know you, that’s why. So, come on, what did he say?’

  Judy relayed the conversation between herself and Dr Morris; although she kept back the bit regarding the scars on her arms, and the things she had confided in him. ‘He wants to see me again in two weeks’ time.’

  ‘Good!’ Pauline was pleased that at long last Judy was getting the expert guidance she desperately needed. ‘Meantime, make sure you do as he’s told you. Put on some weight, and get the colour back in your cheeks.’

  Judy promised she would.

  ‘I’ll be watching you,’ Pauline threatened. ‘I’ll be right behind you every step of the way – but not like Phil does, so don’t worry!’

  Feeling more relaxed now, Judy threaded her arm through the pub landlady’s. ‘It wasn’t half as bad as I thought it would be.’

  ‘Well, there you go, then. I told you it would be all right, but you always think the worst. Now that you know it’s just you neglecting yourself, you can do something about it, can’t you?’

  Judy gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘Thanks, Pauline. You’re a good friend.’

  ‘I know.’

  Judy laughed out loud. With Pauline, what you saw was what you got.

  They walked arm-in-arm as far as the bus stop, where Judy asked Pauline if she wanted to go to the café. ‘Now that it’s all over, I feel peckish,’ she said. ‘A cup of tea and a bit of cake would go down a real treat.’

  ‘Sorry, Judy, I can’t,’ Pauline explained. ‘We’ve got the brewers’ man arriving in about half an hour and Alan will need me there. Look, you go and have your snack, and I’ll see you later, eh?’

  ‘I won’t enjoy it half as much without you.’ Judy had a thing about going out on her own. She wondered if it harked back to when she was just a slip of a girl roaming the streets, not knowing who or what might be waiting round every corner.

  ‘You’ll be absolutely fine,’ Pauline told her, with a mischievous glint in her eye. ‘If anybody nicks your cake, just you tell me, and I’ll hunt the buggers down!’

  Yet again, she had Judy laughing. ‘All right then. Bye, Pauline. I’ll see you later.’

  Judy watched her get on the bus, before striding away in the direction
of the High Street, where she meant to enjoy a much-needed cream cake, with a piping hot cup of tea, come what may.

  Suddenly she found herself changing direction, walking down Midland Road and on towards the church. There was no particular reason why she should do that, because she had asked for sanctuary and forgiveness many times after what happened. Yet she had still not found the peace she craved.

  Now though, she had a pressing urge to say thank you. For some inexplicable reason, she felt she had been given a second chance.

  For a long time now, she had been thinking of leaving Phil and moving where he would never find her.

  Maybe the time was nearer than she thought, and all she needed was strength and guidance from above.

  Going in through those heavy doors was like entering a secret place. The first thing that struck her was the biting cold that went with yawning spaces and high ceilings. And the emptiness.

  She knew about emptiness, because she had been in too many derelict places. In the church though, it was different. There was a welcoming atmosphere, whereas in her previous experience of empty places, there was nothing. No hope. No one to hear you. Just the clinging cold, and a crippling silence.

  Making the sign of the cross, she went to the far side where the candles flickered beneath a statue of the Virgin Mary. Looking up at that gentle face, she told of her deep unhappiness, and of how she was married to a man she feared. ‘I know I should leave him,’ she prayed. ‘I know I should have the strength to stand up to him, but I can’t. You know I want to. But I’m afraid.’

  Delving in her purse, she took out two coins and a small box of matches. Dropping the coins into the container beneath the shelf, she then collected a candle and placed it in the holder. Striking the match, she put the flame to the wick. She then returned to the main body of the church, where she located the nearest pew to the altar.

  When she knelt, the cold of the timber struck through her knees and made her shiver. She bowed her head in reverence, before gazing up at the crucified body of Christ. ‘I never meant to be bad,’ she murmured. ‘Nancy once told me that I was born bad, but I wasn’t. How can anyone be born bad? You would never let that happen, would You?’ Oh Lord, forgive me for the things I’ve done. Help me to be good.’