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Story: The Girl in the Woods
CHAPTER TEN
LAURIE
A t seven months pregnant, Brenda began to worry about their finances. Charlie was hardly home, claiming to be working overtime, but there seemed to be less and less money coming in, and Brenda was concerned for their baby.
The cranky radiators barely gave out any heat, so Brenda had borrowed an electric heater from her mum, which Charlie would turn off as soon as he came home. ‘We’re not fucking made of money,’ he’d shout.
The money Brenda earned working as a cleaner at the Co-op hardly brought in a fortune, and she knew that would have to stop once the baby came. The night Brenda confronted her husband about money was the worst night she could have chosen. Charlie, having just lost on the horses and fuelled by cocaine and booze, had given Brenda the beating of her life. He’d hit her before. A slap here and a slap there, but Brenda had put it down to Charlie being stressed about money. This time, it was different. This time, it wasn’t just a slap.
‘Don’t you dare ask me about my business or my whereabouts,’ he’d yelled while his fists rained down on her pregnant body. Brenda had shielded her unborn baby as best she could, taking the beatings to her face, arms and back while begging him to stop.
‘The baby,’ she’d pleaded. ‘Please, our baby.’
There was blood. Brenda felt it flow down her face and tasted the metallic liquid as it ran into her mouth.
‘That fucking baby,’ he’d screamed. ‘It’s all you fucking talk about.’
Charlie had stormed from the house, leaving his bleeding pregnant wife lying on their living room floor. Brenda had crawled to the phone and called Anika.
The sound of her pregnant friend begging for help had made Anika sick to her stomach. ‘Dil, phone for an ambulance,’ she’d called to her husband. ‘Charlie’s gone too far. I’m going round.’
‘No,’ he shouted. ‘Not on your own. Not while that bastard is still there.’
‘He’s gone,’ said Anika, hurrying from the house.
Brenda was barely conscious when Anika arrived. Blood flowed from her ears, and her eyes were so puffy that Anika barely recognised her.
‘Oh my God, what has he done to you?’
Brenda opened her swollen lips to speak but realised she was unable to.
‘You’re going to be fine,’ Anika said gently, stroking Brenda’s forehead. ‘So is the baby.’
Dil stood in the doorway, fuming. He wanted to beat the shit out of Charlie, but the coward had legged it.
Anika held back her tears until they reached the hospital, and Brenda was ushered into a treatment room. Only then did Anika cry.
In the early hours of the following day, Laurie came prematurely into the world, carrying emotional baggage before she’d even opened her eyes. Charlie never visited them in the hospital. Dil drove Brenda home a few days later with a new baby, a black eye and a broken wrist. Holding her baby in her good arm, Brenda arrived at the house to find her husband and all his belongings gone.
Things were never the same after that for Brenda. Life was a constant struggle, and her financial dependence came from the state and anyone who would help. Loneliness drove her to drink. Life looked rosier after a few vodkas. It was easier to cope when the blood running through her veins was pumped with alcohol. Then there were the men. They were happy to help out in return for a fun night. It helped pay for the vodka and heat for the house and allowed her to put food on the table.
Laurie had no idea who her biological father was, and as she grew older, she decided she didn’t want to know.
It was curiosity that drove her to the vodka bottle one night. The last dregs of that bottle had been her first taste of alcohol. Laurie had always been curious about the bottle that her mother seemed to love more than her. At first, the liquid had burned her throat, making her cough, but then it made her feel good and more confident.
Now, at fifteen, she had a mature face, and once made up, she could easily pass for eighteen. It hadn’t been difficult for her to get what she needed from the off-licence. Soon, like her mother before her, vodka would become Laurie’s drink of choice and, with it, her downfall.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10 (Reading here)
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
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- Page 33
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- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
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- Page 44
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- Page 47
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- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
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- Page 57
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- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
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- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
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- Page 79
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- Page 81
- Page 82