Lucy English - Selfish People

‘When did you last sleep?’

‘Dunno, seems like ages.’

‘You sleep now,’ said Leah, ‘and I’ll stay for a bit.’ He lay down on the sofa with his head on the cushions. He lay there stiffly.

‘By the way, it’s a secret. I don’t want folks to know.’

‘Of course.’

‘You didn’t flip. When I tell folks they usually flip.’

‘There was no need. Do you tell many people?’

‘No. Because they flip.’

She rested her head on the arm of the sofa. She wanted to sleep as well. Bailey’s eyes were now closed and his face was expressionless. She stayed, listening to the gas fire and the wind blowing up Steep Street.

I didn’t flip. I coped. I always cope. I never flip. Why didn’t I scream, my God that’s awful, that’s dreadful? But he would have ended it. He would have shut up like a clam. I held it. The whole weight of his confidence … I’m not sure I want it … You are so big and noisy it’s difficult to think of you as a small hurt person … but I’m thinking of you like that now, frightened and waiting for a footstep behind a door. No wonder you behave erratically .

But you forgot and that is so odd. How can you forget being raped ?

His hand was under the cushion, under his head and then like a page turned in a book where one suddenly sees a shocking picture, she remembered.

There was a baby in a wicker basket … a baby … it was Tom, in a basket by my bed in my room in Garden Hill and I woke up. I thought it was the baby but it wasn’t, it was Al sitting on my bed in the dark and then, he didn’t speak, he got into bed and had sex … I didn’t make a noise or struggle because I didn’t want to wake the baby … but it was horrible. It was brutal and horrible. Then he went away and that was the end of it. I lay there in the dark and I thought, did that really happen? because if it did then he’s in charge and he can have me whenever he wants … but that was so scary and I thought it was a bad dream. He said nothing about it and neither did I. Then I forgot …

She turned away from Bailey and the tears were trickling down her face. And I stayed another four years with Al and I’m an adult with a rational mind. Bailey, you were a child. I remember I was scared because what happened was hate, and I couldn’t accept it, being hated like that. Bailey, I know what it’s like. I want to wake you up and say, I know, I know, but in spite of all this you are still a stranger .

Then Declan came home. He clattered his bike in the hall, but it didn’t wake Bailey. He went into the front room and saw Leah on the floor with her head on the sofa and he said, ‘Oh dear.’

‘He’s not very well,’ she said, unsure whether Declan knew about Bailey or not. ‘He hasn’t been sleeping.’

Declan looked tired as if he hadn’t been sleeping either. ‘Oh dear,’ he said again.

‘I have to go,’ said Leah. ‘My children will be back from school.’

Declan ruffled his hair and said, ‘Oh dear, oh dear.’

Leah got up quietly but Bailey was in the deepest of sleeps. ‘He has bad dreams,’ she said, not sure how much she should reveal.

‘Not again! Oh no, oh dear. He never says. He never ever says.’ He sighed deeply. He too was a part of it all.

‘Will he be all right?’ said Leah.

‘He usually is.’

Bailey, I’m worried about you and I can hardly think of anything else. Why did you tell me? We hardly know each other. You said, it’s a secret. I want to talk about this with somebody but I can’t. I can’t discuss it with Al. I mention you and he goes berserk. There are too many things to discuss with Al: money, Christmas, moving out. There are too many rows to be had .

Al gave her ₤80 and said, ‘That’s for Christmas,’ and Leah said, ‘It won’t be enough!’ and Al said, ‘That’s all we’ve got.’ She nearly burst into tears because it meant no presents for her brother and sister and mother. The children had made their Christmas lists long ago including things like mountain bikes, computers and videos – and who would tell them? She ran upstairs with Al shouting, ‘What did you expect?’ She shut herself in her room and looked through her jewellery, but anything valuable had been sold long ago.

Al was calling for her because Rachel was on the phone.

‘I’m back in the land of the living. Do you want to come out?’

‘I’d love to, I would. When?’

‘Tonight.’

‘Tonight? I’ll have to ask Al.’

Rachel made a tutting noise. She didn’t get on with Al. He was listening to the conversation. ‘Yes, go on bugger off, I don’t want you round here.’

‘I think he says yes,’ said Leah.

She took a long time getting ready. She changed clothes at least four times.

‘I don’t know …’ She was in a blue velvet dress and in front of the mirror. The children had just had baths and were jumping about with no clothes on.

‘Mummy’s all posh,’ said Tom.

‘Daddy will read the story,’ said Al. ‘Looks like Mummy’s too busy.’

‘If it’s a pub then I’m overdressed …’

‘For goodness’ sake!’ and he took the children into their room.

By eight o’clock she had tried on nearly everything black and she had decided. Black jeans and a black polo-necked sweater. It was lamb’s-wool and felt soft and delicious. She dashed downstairs to show Al, who was now watching telly.

‘How do I look?’

‘Why on earth should you care about what I think about how you look?’

She had forgotten. They were splitting up. She had forgotten everything. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

‘You look like somebody who spent three hours getting ready so they can look like somebody who just walked out of the door.’

Leah smiled. ‘Oh good,’ she said. There was a car beeping outside. Rachel never came to the door.

‘I don’t know what time I’ll be back,’ said Leah nervously.

‘You mean, don’t wait up and thump me. OK I won’t.’

‘Goodnight,’ said Leah.

‘Bugger off,’ said Al.

She had not seen Rachel since the visit after Ian had died. Lit up by streetlight she still looked pale and thin. ‘So, how are you?’ Leah asked.

‘I stopped walking around in sackcloth and ashes. Mummy and Daddy went home.’

‘Was that good?’

‘What do you think?’ and she screeched the car round a corner. She was not a careful driver. Leah grabbed the seat-belt strap and this made Rachel laugh.

‘Where are we going?’ said Leah, trying to be calm.

‘To the Queen of Sheba to see a band.’

‘I thought we were going for a quiet drink.’

‘God, no, it’s somebody’s birthday. Anyway I’m fed up with quiet. Quiet makes me fucking angry.’ She screeched round another corner.

The Queen of Sheba was a converted boat. It was dingy and half decorated. It smelt of tar and beer but it was a popular place. The hold of the old trawler was the bar. Rachel bought drinks. Leah looked at the other people. She didn’t know anybody. Rachel was wearing a huge bright pink sweater. She knitted jumpers and sold them in Bath but she hardly ever wore them. Tonight was an exception.

‘Come and meet everybody,’ said Rachel, leading her to a table. ‘This is Leah. This is Bill and Carol and Ange and Pete and the other Pete … and over there is Declan and Bailey, but you already know them.’ She turned, and at another table there they were, a whole heap of empty glasses in front of them. ‘Oi!’ shouted Rachel, ‘Leah’s here.’

Bailey stood up. He looked at Leah. He too was wearing a black polo-neck and black jeans. They faced each other. He sat down.

‘Stupid man,’ said Rachel. Declan waved, a big grin on his face, but his attention was diverted by Bailey telling a joke.