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CHAPTER FOUR

SEVEN YEARS EARLIER

L aurie debated whether to cut through the alley. It would save her the fifteen minutes it took to go through town. Her guts cramped so much that she didn’t think she could face the Friday night ruckus. If only she’d accepted his offer of a walk home. No, that had been unthinkable.

For the third time, she glanced behind her and decided it was safe enough to cut through as usual. A cat rooting through a black rubbish bag stopped to glare at her for a second and continued scavenging when it realised she wasn’t a threat.

Laurie continued, the pulsating pain in her head making her dizzy. There was a jingle of keys as someone locked or unlocked a door, and she desperately wished it were her and that she was home and safe. It was freezing now, and she slid her arms into the sleeves of the jacket. His warmth and smell were all over her, as if he were holding her tightly against him.

The pungent aroma of dope reached her nostrils, adding to her nausea. Several homeless men sitting on tatty blankets shouted out to her. ‘Hey, love, spare us a bit of change?’

She ignored them and held her breath until she’d passed. Finally, she came to the end of the alley, and a cloud of relief enveloped her when she saw the group of houses and flats huddled together on the estate. The familiar sound of her neighbour’s dog barking reached her ears, followed by the loud blaring of a television.

Laurie inserted her key into the lock of the small terraced house and entered the hallway cluttered with boots and shoes.

‘Is that you, Laurie? What time do you call this?’

Laurie entered the living room, where the television was deafening. ‘It’s nearly one,’ she said, yawning. ‘You know you can hear the telly outside. How are Anika and Dil supposed to sleep?’

Without waiting for Arthur to reply, she headed to the kitchen. The sink was full of dirty dishes, and the table was littered with the remains of a Chinese takeaway. Laurie wrinkled her nose and then opened a cupboard door that hung on one hinge, took a tea-stained cup and filled it with water from the leaky tap.

‘I’m going up,’ said Arthur from behind her. He had been her mother’s partner for close to three years now. Laurie liked him. Not enough to call him dad, but enough to hope he stayed for her mother’s sake.

‘Anika will be pleased.’

‘How much you had to drink? You’re only fifteen years old, for Christ’s sake.’

‘So? You’re not my dad, so sod off.’

‘You telling this social worker bloke how you get tanked up most nights?’ he asked.

‘It’s none of your business what I tell him,’ she said tiredly. ‘Where’s Mum?’

‘Gone to bed.’

‘Is she okay?’

‘You know.’

Laurie knew, all right. Brenda had drunk too much, and the pain had come, sending her to bed. ‘She ought to see a doctor,’ said Laurie.

‘You try telling her that.’

‘Couldn’t one of you have cleaned up?’ Laurie said, looking at the table in disgust.

‘Since when did you care about the place being clean? Ain’t you got enough problems?’

Laurie gave a sad laugh. ‘Yeah, well, they say it’s your parents that fuck you up, don’t they?’ Nausea welled up in her again, and she pushed past him, making it to the loo just in time.

‘I hope you’re gonna clean that up,’ he called from behind the door.

Laurie splashed cold water on her face, and then, much to her surprise, she began to cry.