I could hear myself shouting, “I’m sorry, I’m SORRY!”
Phil was screaming after me to stop and come back. But I thought I had really done it this time. She was hurt bad. Even though I knew I hadn’t pushed her, I knew I hadn’t, but who would believe me? She could even be dead for all I know.
I made my way to the train station and snuck on as always. I hadn’t paid for a train, ever, and had never been caught. The train was packed full of people of all ages. A lot of them were looking at me. Do they know? Do they know I hurt Anna? Do I have GUILT written all over my face?
“Who you fucking looking at?” I asked the guy opposite me. He turned red and looked away. “Fucking idiot,” I told him as I stood up and walked to the next carriage. That was me at 15, not a nice person at all.
I tried not to think about what had happened at the home and concentrate on the gig. I had been looking forward to it all week. The train ride was about 40 minutes, but all the time my mind was back at the home wondering if I had killed Anna. Murderer? Am I a murderer?
The station was busy when I arrived. I felt a little panicky at the thought of not finding Dave among the crowd, but I made my way through the station, doing my best to blend in so I wasn’t stopped and asked for my ticket. I needn’t have worried. I made my way through the exit double doors and there was Dave sat proudly on his scooter right at the front of the station.
I beamed with joy. I would have loved to run up and give him a huge hug, but that would have been totally un-cool. So we just walked and parked his scooter then wandered around the block and found a quiet place to be near the hall the gig was in.
We found an out-building and went inside. I told him about Anna and he looked concerned but reassured me everything would be okay as he lifted my dress and fingered me before putting his dick in me and having a quickie. I’d love to make it sound romantic, but there was nothing romantic about it. In fact the out building stank of piss and there were cobwebs everywhere. I scanned the walls for moving spiders and relaxed a bit. There was excrement smeared on the walls and bog roll everywhere on the floor soaking up the water and piss on the floor. Nasty place!
“Not very romantic,” I said as my knickers fell down to my ankles and he pumped his lower body against mine. On high alert in case someone came in and trying my hardest not to let my new knickers touch the floor, I could hear the music in the hall, Give me just a little more time by the Chairmen of the Board. I thought about the great timing and how ironic those lyrics were. Lots of people were laughing and talking outside. It was over very quickly as usual. I patted my dress down, pulled my knickers up and we went back into the gig and danced to 60’s and soul music. I popped more pills trying to forget about Anna and not caring what I was doing to my body.
The hall was full of mods and scooterists, drinking and having fun. A lot of girls were dancing. The lads were outside as usual comparing scooters and admiring paint jobs, working out how many mirrors could be attached to one scooter, and who had the best fox’s tail attached to the aerial on the back. Before I knew it the night was over. It had been a great time but not worth killing someone for. My foggy mind went back to the home to think about what would happen when I returned.
We arranged to meet the following week. I told Dave that the home didn’t want us to be together anymore and they were doing their best to separate us. We sat and made plans to run away together. He was going to run away from the army for me. He wanted to be with me forever. He said he loved me and that we would work it out.
When I got back it turned out the Anna wasn’t dead at all. Luckily, she was only bruised. I kept quiet for a few days thanking my stars for the lucky escape. What if? The thought sent chills down my spine.
Chapter 18
Dave had spoken to Alex in the local pub and was told to pass on a message to me that Molly and Kassie were going to visit dad for the weekend. I hadn’t seen them for years. In fact I hadn’t seen any of the kids. I often thought about them and wondered what they were doing and if they were okay. I often wondered if Molly still had to visit Uncle Joe.
I didn’t want Maggie to know that I had every intention of seeing them, so I got Dave to arrange through Alex a place to meet. Will I recognise them? What will I say? The thought of seeing them made me feel sick with nerves. It brought a lot of memories back to the forefront of my mind. I thought I had locked some of those scenes away for good. Part of me didn’t want to see any of them ever again, the memories far too painful. I could still smell Sue’s crotch and feel the panic of not being able to breathe. It seemed like only yesterday.
We met at the park near dad’s house and I recognised Molly straight away. She was growing up so fast. Who am I kidding? She’s the same age as me. Molly ran up to me, hugging me like there was no tomorrow. I didn’t think she would ever stop. I looked around nervously to see if anyone saw this outward display of affection. She appeared so ill and thin. It looked like she needed a hot dinner or two. Her eyes were dark underneath, and I could see the pain in her eyes. She smiled, beaming, like she was so pleased to see me. She was maybe two inches taller and a lot skinnier than me. She had short, mousy brown hair and she was quite flat-chested. I was proud of my boobs. They got me a lot of attention. She wasn’t pretty at all, her teeth never did get fixed. They were pushing in all directions and I felt sorry for her. Image meant a lot to me and I could see she had no sense of self worth. But then even if she had, it wouldn’t have done her any good, mum would never have helped or encouraged her to look pretty.
Alex took Kassie over to the swings and Molly and I wandered off and sat on the football field. For a while we sat there in silence, just looking at Alex playing with Kassie. I guess neither of us knew what to say. Rabbits were running around at the edge of the park, hopping in and around the new flowers and over small logs in spring play. If only life was that easy and fun, I thought to myself.
“Have you told anyone?” Molly looked me straight in the eye.
Oh my god! Do my eyes tell the story like hers? Do I look in that much pain?
“No,” I said quietly. “No, I haven’t told a soul, and I don’t have any intentions of doing so either. Let’s face it, who would believe us anyway?”
“It’s our secret, then, no matter what happens.” We agreed linking our little fingers together and shaking them up and down in a pinkie promise. It was a pact. We swore that no one would ever know.
We both had seen cases on TV, court cases on the news of people who were paedophiles. We had seen the news of children being abused, of people going to prison. I think Child Line had just been launched, but we agreed we just couldn’t take the chance. No one ever believed me about anything else, so I just couldn’t risk it.
In a way I still blamed my family for making me believe I was such a liar and that nothing I said would ever be taken seriously. If I had been given a little support, I might have found the strength to tell, to help prevent those people doing it again.
For what seemed like hours we sat there talking. Molly seemed almost empty and spoke about things like they were still happening. She assured me it wasn’t that bad anymore and hadn’t been for years, after dad took us away.
“Mum has changed,” she said. She never hits Kassie, but she still beats the older ones. Molly told me of the times mum would smash her head off the wall, and how she got pregnant.
Mum had apparently thrown a party for her 14th birthday and had insisted on making her drink alcohol. Mum found it highly amusing watching her stagger around drunk. Molly said she couldn’t remember much, just feeling sick and sorry for herself, but when she woke up the following morning she discovered a strange guy in her bed. She explained how she lay there knowing that mum had set her up to get drunk so she would have sex with this guy. She said she hadn’t seen him since.
She had been late for her period. Mum took her to a clinic and forced her to have an abortion, bullying her as usual by saying if anyone ever found out she would be labelled a “slag” for the
rest of her life.
“I’ll never forgive her for that,” Molly said.
“There’s a lot more than that, not to forgive her for,” I said. I urged her to remember, raising my eyebrows in sarcasm so she would know I was referring to the bad stuff.
It’s amazing what you can get used to, I thought. But, yes, you can get used to violence and sexual abuse. I was about 13 when I realised that it was all so wrong. Looking at Molly I thought, My stepmother sold our little bodies to the highest bidder. We were used as prostitutes to earn her money, whilst we posed for child pornography and stuff for Uncle Joe. How could any human being do that to a child?
Molly told me how Uncle Joe suddenly stopped coming round, how the neighbours started standing up for them arguing with mum about how she treated her kids. They told her they would be watching and that’s when Uncle Joe started staying away. But Molly still visited him sometimes, mainly to do photo stuff for other men and to earn a bit of money. Even after that he would still grope her privates or make her suck his dick. The really painful stuff stopped after I left.
Did I cause it then? I wondered. I must have surely if it stopped after I left? Well that’s what I thought for many years, but how could a nine-year-old be responsible?
I looked over at Kassie.
“Mum never touches her,” Molly said with anger and jealousy in her voice, nodding towards Kassie. “What is so special about her?”
I could hear the bitterness in her voice. I looked at Kassie wondering what was so special. She wasn’t pretty. In fact she was quite unattractive. She had a large frame and tried hard to be noticed, being very loud in everything she did. I really didn’t know what to say to her. After all I didn’t know her. Molly was the only one who wanted to come and visit dad. The others didn’t want to. Molly said they were still angry that dad had left and didn’t really want anything to do with him.
Fair enough, I thought. I wonder how much mum soured their feelings. I didn’t suppose I could blame them really. Dad had only taken me and Alex and failed to rescue them from that witch.
“How was the chocolate Yule log?” I asked and laughed at Molly. It broke the ice as she remembered when we made it at school. I told her I was gutted I had to leave it with her and not tasting it has scarred me for life. We both laughed out loud. Mum wouldn’t let us take enough ingredients for two so we had to share and make one together.
“It was very nice what we got to have of it,” she chuckled.
Molly seemed distant. It was almost like she had a mental impairment. I had to drag a conversation out of her. She was a closed book. I was sad when I had to go because I knew there was no one to protect her. She was so weak and vulnerable and I knew I couldn’t be there for her. We promised we would be back together one day, maybe share a flat or something, anything, to get her away from mum.
Chapter 19
The weekend was getting close and I had arranged to meet Dave in Leicester. I was nervously excited as I stuffed a bag full of my favourite gear, my best shoes and not forgetting of course, my makeup bag. I was going to hide it somewhere nearby so that when Friday arrived, no one at the children’s home would find out that I was missing until it was too late. I had a few quid saved and knew it would be plenty to get me to Leicester, bearing in mind trains were usually free for me. All I needed was enough to get me to Dave. I thought, Maybe I ought to pay this time as I can’t risk getting caught. If I could get myself there, Dave would sort out the rest.
The bag I had stuffed under the front hedge of the neighbouring house was damp and as I grabbed it out, I prayed that my clothes would be okay. It was very early in the morning. The birds hadn’t been up long and were full of song. It was just starting to get light too. I had to get a shift on, the day staff would be in soon to take over from the nights. Then they would start their normal rounds waking everyone up, preparing breakfast and pushing and annoying the kids to get ready. No one wanted to go to school and no one made it easy for the staff. I had to hurry.
The Milkman was passing in his milk float as I walked up the road. He looked at me funnily as if to say, What on Earth are you doing out at this ungodly time of the morning? I hurried on up the road sticking close to the fences. It was freezing cold, but then it was only early spring.
As I got to the main road I immediately started hitchhiking. I had to get a ride before staff passed by and spotted me. I knew it wouldn’t take me long to get a lift though, it never did. A young girl with huge boobs in a miniskirt? It was just a matter of minutes. The guy who picked me up gave me a lecture on how I was too young to hitchhike and shouldn’t take rides from strangers.
Blah fuckin’ blah fuckin’ blah! I only had to listen to him for about 15 minutes, and then we would be at the town where I could get the train. He said he was an accountant and proceeded to lecture me on getting a good education. Of course, I agreed with everything he said. I just nodded and gazed out the window planning what Dave and I were going to do with the rest of our lives.
I had to waste the day doing not much really. My train wasn’t until late that evening, so I made my way to some friends. I spent the day watching TV and wandering around town or sitting in a café watching the world go by.
It was Friday night and a lot of people would be on their way out clubbing or going home for the weekend from work. I had just enough money for my ticket and held on to it tightly, picking at the corners of it as I sat in the waiting room for the train. I had to buy a ticket for once. It had taken so much planning to get it all right, I couldn’t afford to risk getting caught on this night of all nights. It nearly killed me handing over my money when I knew I could have bunked the trip. The risk just wasn’t worth it.
The waiting room was old and musty. It needed a good lick of paint and some new seats. The old wooden benches were covered in scratched graffiti. I was over an hour early so I spent the time people watching and reading graffiti. It wasn’t the first time I had run away but this was different. It was the first time I really meant it and knew I wasn’t going back. I didn’t ever want to go back. Usually I was just going for a weekend to a rally or a gig, but this time I was going for life.
I still hadn’t seen dad or Maggie. I think they had moved on and forgot about me. I heard they had been to Italy with Alex. Nice one, I thought a little jealous that, as usual, I missed out. I was difficult. I knew I was and I really don’t think things would have been any different if Maggie had loved me. I knew that I wasn’t wanted and if I was going to make anything out of my life it was going to be up to me. It was time to get on with it.
I sat in the waiting room that day doing a lot of dreaming of what my future life would be. What sort of house will Dave and I live in? Will we have kids? What will we do for money?
Dave was in the army but hated it. He hated not being able to do what he wanted when he wanted. He was pushed into the army because his brother was in already and his dad had an army career. So it was expected of Dave too. The only thing he liked about it was the rugby, and I had to admit that he was pretty good. I think he was just as much a rebel at heart as I was really, but I know he used to feed off of my attitude. It excited him and gave him courage, he often told me.
Waiting for the train I wondered, Will I be missed by anyone, ever? I don’t think school will miss me. School is rubbish anyway. I only got on with my year head. She seemed to understand me but then I did spend a lot of the time I was at school in her office. My other teachers had washed their hands of me. I did the work when I felt like it or if I understood it. I wouldn’t be bothered if it was difficult. I would just walk out. Being honest it was easier if I didn’t understand the work. I was far too proud and too cool to ask for help.
I would also get sent directly to the year head’s office if I chose not to wear school uniform. My trademark miniskirts or ski-pants were often what I chose to wear. I told the kids home not to bother when they bought me a new school uniform. I wouldn’t wear it anyway so why not just give me the money instead? I
could then spend it in charity shops on original sixties clothing. But of course they insisted I try to conform by wearing school uniform. Who are they kidding? I refused to put it on and said if they wanted me to go to school then, “I will wear what I like, or not go at all. I have street cred to think about, you know?”
I hardly went to school anyway playing truant for days, sometimes weeks at a time. It was hardly surprising that I wasn’t doing very well academically. I was always popular, probably because of my rebellious ways. Other kids found it highly hilarious if I mouthed off at one of my teachers or walked out of class to go and have a ciggie behind the toilet blocks. Nothing ever happened when I got caught. Maybe worse case scenario I’d get sent to the year head who would greet me with a sigh, “Okay Abbie, what have you done this time?”
I have to admit, actually she was really cool, that year head. She was pretty much the only nice thing I remembered about my school days. She wasn’t a pretty lady, quite broad and not feminine. She had her hair cut short and never wore much makeup apart from a bit of lippy. She empathized with my plight, not like the rest of the teachers who hated me. They couldn’t be bothered. In fact, the whole school stopped bothering when I went into care.
The loudspeakers rang out and I jumped out of my daydreaming. “Train to Leicester will be arriving at platform two in five minutes.” It sounded like someone was pinching their nose and talking as close to the microphone as possible. This is it, I thought, the moment I’ve been waiting for, my ticket to paradise. I took a deep breath, collected my bag and wandered onto the platform. Whilst standing with everyone else I had a sense of fear as the butterflies started fluttering in my tummy and built up to a full blown fight or flight adrenaline rush.
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