Kitty Neale - A Family’s Heartbreak

‘Stairs, my arse! Is that what she told you?’

‘Yes, why, don’t you believe her?’

‘No, I bloody don’t! You can bet your last farthing that her old man has given her what for. I’m telling you, Craig, if I was younger and fitter I’d skin that man alive.’

As soon as Pamela returned to the lounge, her gran asked pointedly, ‘Did Jenny hurt herself badly when she “fell down the stairs”?’

Pamela hated having to fib, but she’d promised her sister she wouldn’t tell anyone what really happened, though from what she’d just overheard they’d worked it out for themselves. ‘Yes, it was pretty bad. We had to get an ambulance for her. She wasn’t awake for a while … and … and it was really scary.’

‘Oh, sweetheart, it must have been terrifying for you all, especially Jenny. Was your dad at home? Did he call the ambulance?’

Pamela suddenly felt she was being interrogated and hoped she wouldn’t crack under pressure. ‘Yes, er, no … he … er … he was out,’ she stuttered nervously.

Her gran seemed to be scrutinising her, then asked, ‘Did he go out before or after Jenny fell down the stairs?’

‘I … I think it was before.’

‘Are you trying to hide something from me, young lady? I don’t know who you think you’re protecting, but I know when you’re fibbing to me.’

Her gran’s voice was unusually stern, and Pamela could feel herself beginning to crumple. ‘Oh, Gran,’ she blurted and felt a sob catch in her throat. It was as if all the fear and sadness she’d bottled up for weeks were suddenly unleashed. ‘I thought he was going to kill her … I thought he was going to kill us all!’

Pamela ran to Edith, dropped to her knees and then cried into her gran’s lap.

Edith softly stroked her hair, and soothed, ‘It’s all right, love, you’re safe here.’

Pamela wished she could stay in her gran’s flat forever, away from her father’s aggression and the pain he caused. It wasn’t possible, though: there was no room, and anyway, they all needed to escape, not just her.

With her head still in the old woman’s lap, Pamela didn’t see her gran look up at Craig and silently mouth, ‘I’d like to kill the bastard.’

Jenny hadn’t slept well. It wasn’t just the discomfort of her ribs that had kept her awake; she hadn’t been able to shift thoughts of Craig from her head. She managed to get out of bed and dressed and was about to creep downstairs when she heard a small voice.

‘Morning, Jen,’ chirped Timmy as he emerged from his bedroom, rubbing his eyes.

‘Good morning,’ Jenny answered quietly. ‘Is your brother still asleep?’

‘No, I’m awake,’ Peter announced as he followed his older brother.

‘Yeah, me and all, thanks to you two little brats,’ Gloria called from the bedroom.

Jenny grinned at the boys, and asked, ‘Did you jump on her again?’

‘No,’ Timmy answered, ‘we drew on her face.’

‘You didn’t! She’ll have your guts for garters. Come on, get yourselves downstairs and let her have a lie-in.’

The truth was, Jenny didn’t want the boys’ jovialities to disturb their dad. Luckily, he was a heavy sleeper, especially after he’d had a good drink.

In the kitchen, Jenny gave the boys a glass of milk and made them some bread and jam, along with a pot of tea for herself. It hurt to lift the kettle, but she hid the discomfort from her brothers.

‘Where’s Pamela?’ Timmy asked.

‘She went to stay with Gran last night.’

‘Can we go to see her today? Gran might have made some cakes!’

‘Not today, but we’ll go next Saturday,’ Jenny answered. Craig had said that Gran was fine, just shaky, but she wasn’t sure the old woman would be up to seeing the boys.

‘Can we go to the common then?’

‘Well, if you stop being mean to Gloria, she might take you. You can take the old bread and feed the ducks.’

‘Cor yes,’ Timmy said excitedly. ‘I like the ducks, but the geese are a bit frightening.’

‘I don’t want to go to the common,’ Peter said sullenly.

‘Why not?’ Jenny asked.

‘I just don’t want to. I want to stay at home today.’

‘But it’s going to be a lovely sunny day and you’ll have lots of fun.’

‘I don’t care. I’m not going!’ Peter said firmly, then sat with his arms folded.

‘Don’t be daft, Peter. You’re coming with us,’ Timmy told him.

‘No, and you can’t make me!’

Jenny pulled out a chair and sat opposite Peter. ‘No one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to, but can you tell me why you want to stay at home today?’

Peter’s bottom lip began to quiver, and his big blue eyes glistened. ‘Mummy might come to see us today,’ he cried, ‘and I want to ask her if I can live with her.’

Jenny’s heart broke for the boy. ‘I don’t think she’s coming today and I’m sorry, Peter, but I doubt she’s got room for you. Anyway, I don’t want you to leave us. We’d all miss you too much.’

‘If Peter goes to live with Mum, can I go too?’ Timmy asked.

‘No, I’m afraid the two of you aren’t going anywhere.’

‘But you said I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to … and I don’t want to live here!’ Peter cried, his cheeks now wet with tears and his nose beginning to run.

‘I know that’s what I said, but that was about going to the common.’ Jenny turned her head and said, ‘Do me a favour, Timmy, go and get your brother a hanky to wipe his nose.’

As the boy ran off, Jenny pushed her chair back and went over to Peter. She crouched beside him, placing her arm across his shoulders. ‘Come on, darling, stop crying now. Why don’t you want to live with us?’ As soon as she’d asked the question, Jenny regretted it and knew what his answer would be.

‘I do … but … but …’

‘It’s all right, I know,’ Jenny interrupted. ‘Dad frightens you.’

Peter nodded his head and asked, ‘Does he scare you too?’

‘Sometimes, but when he’s in a bad mood it doesn’t last long. He soon gets over it and goes out to the pub.’

‘But he hits you … and I think he’s going to hit me too.’

‘No, he won’t. I won’t allow him to. Dad will never lay a hand on you, not while I have breath in my body. I promise.’

‘Really? Cross your heart and hope to die? Stick a needle in your eye?’

‘Yes, I really, really, promise.’

‘But last time he hit you, an ambulance took you away,’ Peter said and began crying again.

‘But I’m fine now, so you’ve nothing to worry about.’

Timmy appeared with a hanky, scowling as he said, ‘When I grow up, if I see Dad bashing you I’m going to kick his head in!’

‘Timmy, you mustn’t say things like that. Violence doesn’t solve anything. When Mum walked out on us, Dad could’ve sent you to live in a children’s home, but he didn’t. He does his best, and all right, he loses his temper now and then, but as I said before, he soon gets over it.’