by Sian Rosé
“You… you have no idea!” she snapped, furrowing her brow. “I’m not just a dumb little kid; I’m sixteen- a woman.”
Ross, who was sitting beside his sister, gently touched her forearm. Roughly, she shrugged him off. “I love Ronnie. I will always love him. He shouldn’t be the one in trouble; it should be me…” tears began to sting her eyes and blur her vision. “It should be me on the run… I just… I miss him so much…” a loud, ugly, animal-like sob escaped her lips, and she bowed her head.
Her brother stood up and took her in his arms without saying a word. This time, she nestled into him and started to weep, her slender frame rocking and quivering with her pain.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Henry sighed. “What a mess. Look…” he trailed off and looked to Julie, who nodded quietly. Henry swallowed, cleared his throat, and looked solemnly at his daughter,
“Darling, Mum and I have been talking. We think that… perhaps it’d be for the best if you talked to someone. You know, a professional. Doctor Greer recommended a really good…”
“SHUT UP!” exploded Minnie, pushing Ross away. “JUST SHUT UP! I DON’T NEED TO SEE A THERAPIST, DAD.”
“Now, Minerva!” Henry stood up and tried to look firm. “You need to calm down.”
Minnie sniffed and laughed, shaking her head. “I can’t calm down, Dad,” she said, wiping her tear-stained cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’m pregnant. Ronnie is the father.”
Everybody froze.
Painful, chilling silence fell upon the dining table and seemed to spread rapidly throughout the house. The seconds crawled past so slowly that it felt like they were rooted there for an eternity.
Both Julie and Henry sat with their mouths agape, eyeballs bulging from their sockets. Even Ross didn’t know what to say.
Minnie sighed, finally breaking the spell.
“You… you stupid girl…” whispered Julie, unblinking. Suddenly, her normally soft voice and gentle features had hardened so that they were sharp and intimidating. “How could you do this? Do you… do you even realise what you’ve done? Your entire future is ruined!” Every word she said was like glasses being hurled against a brick wall, shattering into pieces, the jagged blades plunging deeply into flesh.
“No, it is not ruined,” barked Henry. His face had flooded with red, fury highlighting his pudgy cheeks, his piggish eyes glittering with anger. “I will not allow it.” He turned to his daughter; his eyebrows furrowed as he fixed her with his pupils. Gone was the loving face of her father and, in its place, an upper-class man staring in disgust at a filthy crack-addicted whore on the streets. Just his gaze of repulsion alone made her ache with shame, so much so that she envisioned tearing all of her skin off.
“First thing tomorrow, you are going to the clinic to get this seen to. You understand?” Henry said sharply.
“Dad…” Ross interjected, looking worriedly from his sister to his father.
“Stay out of this, son,” Henry growled without looking at him.
Minnie shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. She matched her father’s hardened stare with her own. “No. You can’t make me get rid of it.”
“Oh yes, I bloody well can!” snarled Henry, “and I will. I won’t have your life ruined by some scum bag degenerate, Minerva.”
“He is NOT!” she shouted back.
Julie’s eyes were watery as she looked pleadingly at Minnie. Minnie couldn’t stand to look back at her, revolted by the disappointment she could see reflected in the woman’s irises.
“Min, sweetheart, what kind of father will Ronnie make?” she asked softly, “he isn’t even here. He’s on the run.”
The young girl sat down in her head and buried her head in her hands.
“…and what about money? You aren’t qualified yet. How are you going to support a baby?” she listened to her mother continue.
She didn’t reply and instead let her family soften and gather around her, each one offering kind words of support and understanding. Despite her silence, a plan was put in motion to call the hospital the following day and arrange for her to undergo the procedure. Then she would start a course of CBT with the therapist that Doctor Greer had recommended. She would spend the remainder of the summer recovering from the trauma of Ronnie, the incident in the woods, and the abortion.
Minnie decided it was easier to keep quiet and pretend like she was passively agreeing to all of these decisions that were being made on her behalf. She let her mother take her up to bed, and she took the sleeping pills she was given.
Whilst her family thought she was resting, sleeping off the painful turmoil, amplified by a million due to teenage hormones, Minnie was, in fact, plotting.
She removed the sleeping pills from underneath her tongue and tossed them into the bin in the corner of her bedroom.
Chapter Twenty-four
2019
Only a week had passed before the dead couple was found in Lonely Loch. It was Lloyd who first noticed it because he was eating cereal at the dining table, whilst everyone else was either still in bed, showering, taking a shit, or in Flo’s case, colouring in.
“Oh shit,” he called out, as a panning shot of the marshes came up on the screen, as well as a photo of the YouTubers on the side. “Look, we made TV!” he fed himself another spoon full of cereal and chewed with interest as he gazed at the flat screen.
“Jared and Sienna Rostas, budding YouTubers known for filming their travels in their motor home, were found deceased in a stolen van in the middle of one of Scotland’s most desolate marshes,” the announcer was saying. “This comes just seven days after the couple posted an odd video announcing that they would be ending the channel indefinitely, in order to start a family.”
Lloyd chuckled to himself and called out to Flo, “looks like your filming skills weren’t all they cracked up to be. Even the reporters are calling it ‘odd.’”
Flo rolled her eyes and continued lightly shading in the flower with her pink crayon. “Well shit, what do you expect? The bitch got up and almost stabbed me halfway through. I had to work with what I had at the end of the day.”
“Whilst, upon first inspection, it appears that the couple died in a blaze caused by an engine fault, police are saying they are treating the incident as suspicious as the result of details unconfirmed.”
“Crap,” cursed Lloyd, dropping his spoon in the bowl.
Ten or so minutes later, the family was gathered in the middle of the RV, all of them re-watching the news report after being hastily called down by a concerned Lloyd.
They’d gotten as far away as possible from the burned remains of their prisoners, and were currently parked in a rundown, abandoned park somewhere in Ireland, a popular spot for some of the rougher families to pitch down their caravans. Whilst it was not an official camping site, the people living there were very… forceful in their ways and were rarely bothered by any kind of law enforcement. This was just how Ronnie and Minnie liked it. They’d stopped there a few times over the years and had even befriended some of the locals.
As the report came to its conclusion again, Flo grumbled and rubbed her head. “This is my fault, isn’t it?”
Ronnie touched her shoulder, “don’t be silly, love. So what? They’re suspicious about it. We’ve done nothing wrong as far as they’re concerned. We simply came across a poncy couple of influencers and purchased their motor off them. In exchange, we gave them our van, which may or may not have minimal traces of us left in it. Not our fault the stupid dickheads got blown up, is it?”
“Your father is right,” agreed Minnie, “but still, Ron, I think we ought to lay low for a bit. No more killing, just for a little while.”
“Which means we’ve got to come up with another way of grafting,” Ronnie said, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “But no one panic; the main thing is we got a place to live. Alright?”
The four children all nodded and murmured in agreement.
“So everyone, just keep your thinking caps
on for the next few days. We need a scheme to get cash that doesn’t involve anything that will draw too much attention to us.”
Again, the brothers and sisters nodded solemnly, each of them already thinking about their next endeavour. However, their trains of thought were abruptly interrupted when their father suddenly stood up, his tall, lean body hovering over them like a great monument or mountain. He snaked an arm around Minnie’s slender waist and grabbed a generous portion of her curvaceous arse, causing the woman to giggle and kiss his neck.
“Now, me and your mother would like a little alone time,” he said, eyeing Zach in particular. “So you four need to fuck off out for a few hours.”
There were no arguments. The children knew well enough that if there was any disagreement, or any refusal to leave, their father would have no quarry with physically booting them out of the RV. Besides, none of them particularly relished the idea of listening to their parents fucking on every single piece of furniture in the vehicle.
So, after pulling on coats, boots, and jeans, the four of them set off out into the bright but chilly morning. Caravans and motor homes of varying sizes were scattered over the field, mostly in close proximity. In the aisles and rows between them, dribs and drabs of people walked dogs or sat on camping chairs. Some smoked, some chattered. One very muscular guy with dodgy tattoos even performed press-ups on the dry grass.
“What should we do?” Flo asked, following behind her older brothers and sister, her little legs having to move faster just to keep up. “Do you reckon there’s a duck pond?”
“Probably,” Zach said, glancing around. He’d been here plenty of times before, but only for short periods of time. The place was like a maze if you were not familiar. “Let’s try this way.”
The siblings walked, weaving in and out of the caravans, taking in the sweet chirping of birds in the distance and the fresh morning air. They continued until they reached the outskirts of the cluster of motor homes, where they found a huge tree and a group of teenagers huddled underneath it, perched on its wrinkled and brown roots. As they got closer, they were hit with a strong wave of cannabis smoke and a few sleazy wolf-whistles at Stella from some of the boys.
“Morning,” Zach smiled charmingly, lifting a hand in greeting. The young man was handsome and played the part of the boy-next-door so perfectly; it’d be impossible to suspect he’d killed before. He stopped a metre or so from the group, most of which appeared to be boys wearing tracksuits and gold chains. Instantly, he’d captured the full attention of the few girls also sat down beneath the tree, who giggled and batted their eyelashes at him. “Don’t suppose any of you know where we might find a duck pond?”
One of the boys laughed as though Zach were a simpleton. “A duck pond?”
Zach effortlessly steered Flo ahead of him and shone his dazzling grin over at the desperate-looking girls. “My little sister wants to feed the ducks,” he explained. “I’m minding her. Our parents are doing…” he thought a moment, “…laundry.”
Lloyd and Stella stifled laughter.
One of the teenagers, a boy whose face was splattered in freckles, frowned up at Zach. “Are you speaking in code or something, blud?”
Lifting an eyebrow, Zach shook his head. “Na mate…” he paused, as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, “why? You selling something?”
The freckled boy’s face suddenly darkened, all at once guarded by a cloudy veil of defence. He didn’t reply; instead just took another toke of the spliff in his hand and averted his eyes as if he were bored of speaking to him.
“There’s one back that way,” a red-haired girl with smudged black eye makeup said, getting up off of the tree roots. She gestured back the way the siblings had come. “The duck pond, I mean. I’ll take you if you want,” she smiled at Zach.
She was common-looking. Trampy, Stella thought, like a common hooker offering out blowjobs in exchange for a wrap of coke. Despite the cold weather, all she wore was a cheap, tight-fitting skirt that revealed her skinny, blotchy legs and a grubby-looking hooded top.
“So kind of you,” Zach replied. “What’s your name?”
“Destiny-Lynn.”
“Of course it is,” he chuckled, “well, I’m George, this is my little sister Helen, and my other siblings, Joe and Clara.”
It truly was, in Lloyd’s opinion, an enviable art how Zach could lie so seamlessly. Even he felt compelled to believe the false names that his brother gave.
“And what’s your name, princess?” Zach asked the other girl, another ratty, skinny thing with clearly visible clip-in extensions and dirty, stubby fingers.
“Sambuca,” she replied shyly, obviously taken aback that the handsome teenager had even noticed her.
“Beautiful name,” Zach lied, “would you like to come along with us?”
As he turned, a barely noticeable look passed between Zach and Stella, which only the four siblings would notice. It was just another one of the many signals that the four had developed over the years, a gesture which, in certain situations, indicated the formulation of a plan. There was no way the four could have known that they’d stumble across a group of budding drug dealers; however, Zach could spot them from a mile off, and he was an opportunist.
Stella yawned, fluttering her eyelashes and tossing her luscious curtain of blonde hair over a slender shoulder. “I’m tired of walking,” she pouted at her older brother.
One of the boys smirked and gave her a wink. “You can stay here with us if you want, babe.”
Once again, Zach and Stella exchanged a subtle look. Graciously, she perched down beside the ring leader, crossing one leg over the other- their shapeliness visible in her tight-fitting skinny jeans.
“Oh, thank you. You’re so kind.”
“You’re so fit. It’s my pleasure, babe.”
Stella’s smile stretched out wide, “oh, no. The pleasure is all mine.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Summer, 1999
Finding Ronnie quickly wasn’t difficult.
As predicted, he’d chosen the shadiest B&B out of Minnie’s list of potentials. After a long, confusing, and sometimes downright terrifying trip on the train that consisted of numerous changes, she found him in the doorway of a place named The Mermaid Inn. A terraced building with off-white, peeling plaster and a half-arsed sign that looked like it had been originally put up a century ago.
To make the sight even uglier, and to her immense disgust, Ronnie was smoking.
He’d also let his hair grow out, and dark stubble was growing out around his mouth. Minnie thought that he resembled a werewolf, not like her charming, dashingly handsome future husband at all. In fact, at that moment, as she stood there just a few feet away in the centre of the dark, London back road, watching him puff away on the roll-up, she felt her heart sink.
Was she really doing the right thing? Or would she end up one day, washed up, looking back on this moment with nothing but intense bitterness and regret? Was she making the biggest, most epic mistake of her entire life?
She let herself feel the weight of her backpack.
Too late now.
With a deep breath, she forced her feet to move forwards. Ronnie was staring deeply into space, his icy blue eyes glazed over, seemingly oblivious to the rest of the universe.
“Ronnie,” she said simply, not particularly loudly. The bed and breakfast was on a narrower, back road, so it was not especially loud, but there was still a fair amount of bustle. Drabs of people walking past, laughing, joking; their care-free voices seeming to wash her own away. Instantly, Ronnie snapped his head towards her and instinctively let the cigarette drop from his fingers and land on the grimy cobbles beneath him.
“Minnie,” he said in response.
She glared at him and took another few steps forwards. “That stops now,” she said sharply, nodding in disgust at the cigarette rolling over the stone.
He nodded, his cheeks blushing red as though he were a naughty schoolboy, caught out
misbehaving. The expression of guilt quickly faded though, a confused frown appearing on his handsome, if overgrown, face.
“But, Min… what are you doing here? I’m still waiting on the ID stuff.”
Breathing in and out, Minnie looked uncertainly up at the building behind him. “Is there somewhere quiet we can go?”
Apart from being clean and having a small en-suite bathroom, Minnie wasn’t delighted to find that Ronnie’s room at The Mermaid Inn wasn’t much better than the room he had stayed in at Scribbles’ flat. At least, she thought with a grim smile; there wasn’t a scrap of dog waste in sight.
Quietly, Ronnie locked the door, and then the two of them sat at the end of his neatly made single bed. He watched her, his eyes wide with curiosity and worry, but his lips remained closed. His hand rested gently on her knee as he waited for her to talk.
“Cards on the table,” she suddenly blurted out, looking up at him, locking his eyes with hers. “I got more money. I did another bad thing.”
“But, why?” he asked incredulously. “God… why’d you do that, Min?”
Minnie’s face crumpled, and she shook her head. That painful pressure that had been weighing down on her chest since early that morning, when she’d hurried to the station and hadn’t known where to go, was finally expelling itself. Rapidly, tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and dribbled down her face.
Ronnie gripped tightly onto her hand.
“I had to run away,” she said, her voice cracking. “I was stupid. I got angry, and I told my parents about the baby…”
She felt Ronnie’s clammy hold on her hand release. When she glanced up at him through blurred vision, she saw that he’d gone pale.
“So… you know for sure then?” he asked faintly.
The two hadn’t seen each other since Scribbles’ insightful observation at the flat. At the time, they’d laughed it off. Teenage pregnancy was the kind of thing that happened to other people. Not them.
But, then again, so was murder, attempted rape, and being on the run from the law.