Watching Over You (24 page)

But the one thing that stuck in her mind was the car crash. Ella had said that her parents had died but not that many years ago, and certainly not when she was a child. And she’d never mentioned having a sister.

Chapter Twenty-Five

It was nearly four o’clock when Ella felt able to leave the flat that afternoon. She needed to get more alcohol. She would start with vodka and then move on to whisky. Maybe she could pass out by six p.m. and sleep for a while – get rid of the images her mind kept throwing up: being locked in a cupboard and banging on the door to be let out; being held down by strong hands while someone pushed themselves into her; being beaten for daring to talk back in her defence. Everything was coming back.

As she walked along Warwick Avenue, she saw someone coming towards her. He looked familiar; she couldn’t place him straightaway but as he drew closer, she realised it was Jake.

‘Hi, Ella,’ he smiled, giving her a cheeky wink.

Ella stared at him for a moment before smiling slyly. ‘It’s
you.
My peeping Tom.’

‘Keep your voice down!’ Jake ran a hand through his hair.

Ella laughed loudly as he glanced up and down the street to see who was around. Luckily for him, there was no one in
hearing
range. An elderly man with a pushchair and a child ambling
alongside
. A group of teens dressed in school uniform. The woman who looked after Jean next door.

‘So why did you run?’ she wanted to know.

‘I – I got nervous,’ he replied.

‘Nervous?’ Frowning, Ella tried to focus on him, wishing he would stay in one place and not keep moving around.

Jake nodded, bouncing the toe of his trainers on the wall beside them. ‘I wanted to, but, well – you’re older than me and I’ve not been with as many…’ He stopped.

‘…partners as I have,’ Ella finished off for him, annoyed by his accusation. How dare he think she was a sleep-around. He didn’t know her! She was after love – that was it. Love was what she craved. But he would never understand that. And he’d just ruined his chances of the repeat performance she’d been planning on treating him to.

He thinks you’re a slag.

‘You think I’m a slag,’ she seethed, her right hand clenching into a fist.

‘No, I didn’t mean that! I meant –’

‘You meant that I’m not good enough for you, is that it?’

‘No, the opposite, actually.’

But Ella didn’t hear him. Feelings of rejection pulsed through her. How dare he run away, leave her to her own devices? She was going to get him for that.

‘Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.’ She leaned forward, touching his arm before whispering in his ear. ‘It will be our little secret.’ She waited a moment, gently blowing on his ear. ‘Maybe you and some of your friends might come and visit me one evening? I could turn their fantasies into reality too. What do you reckon? Or will they run out on me as well?’ Ella popped a finger into her mouth. She locked her lips around it and pulled it out suggestively.

‘I reckon I could handle you this time.’ Jake nodded. ‘I won’t run out on you again.’

Like hell he won’t. Get him for that, the silly little shit.

Ella smiled. ‘You’re an ambitious fucker, I’ll give you that. Come closer.’

With a nervous expression, Jake stepped forward.

‘Closer.’

Another step.

Hit him! Make him bleed.

‘Now, come down to my level. You’re a little tall for me.’ Ella giggled coyly.

Jake hesitated for a moment but then he did as she said.

Ella brought her head back and butted him in the face.

Good aim! That’ll teach him.

Jake dropped to his knees, clutching his nose. Blood began to trickle from a nostril, a small cut at the bridge pouring too. ‘You mad bitch.’ He wiped at it. ‘What the fuck was that for?’

Ella grabbed a handful of his hair and dropped her face to his level. ‘You think you can get me to suck you off and then leave me to my own devices, you selfish little shit?’

‘Get off me!’

‘I’m warning you, you stay away from me or I’ll tell everyone that you pushed me into the hallway of my house and sexually assaulted me.’

‘I never touched you! You wouldn’t –’

‘I’ll have the police on you in minutes. A police record for sexual assault – that won’t be a nice thing to start your working life with when you leave Sixth Form.’

‘Let go!’ Jake punched at the side of her leg. Ella cried out in pain. Seeing a car approaching, she loosened her grip and pushed him away. As he fell backwards, she ran down the avenue.

Jean had been curious as soon as she’d noticed Ella doubling back to talk to Jake. Through her open window, she could hear them chatting but, even though she strained to hear more, they were too far away for her to make out their conversation.

But when she saw him fall, she put down her knitting and leaned forward. It had happened so fast that she’d missed it. Had he stepped backwards and tripped over the edge of the kerb? And then she saw that his nose was bleeding when he pulled his hand away. And when Ella grabbed his hair, Jean didn’t know what to think. Was this his punishment for running out on her the other day? Oh, dear. Ella was always in a rage about something.

She watched her run off, almost knocking her home help out of the way; heard Ruby cry out in annoyance before turning back to Jake. She offered him a hand to help him to his feet but he refused and stormed off and into the house.

‘Not sure what that was all about,’ Ruby shouted up to her after she’d opened the front door. ‘Would you like a cuppa bringing up before I start?’

‘You are a darling,’ Jean shouted back. She looked down onto the avenue again. There was nothing going on now so she completed the entry in her notepad while she waited.

Jean wondered what the poor lad had done. Ella’s face had been really close to his and she’d been almost snarling. She seemed to be telling Jake off, by the look of her body language. He’d definitely annoyed her about something. That wasn’t a wise move. He’d found out the hard way.

16:15 – Ella and Jake had words. Not sure what happened; it looked like Jake had fallen over. But Ella was mad about something. Couldn’t hear what was being said, though.

‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,’ she said to Tom, who was snoozing on the bed as if he didn’t care either way.

A few minutes later, Ruby appeared with a tray: a mug of tea, a small plate of digestives, and that evening’s newspaper.

‘Thanks, duck,’ Jean smiled gratefully.

‘Really bad headlines, Jean,’ Ruby said. ‘Some bloke came a cropper last night just around the corner.’

‘Let me see.’ Jean unfolded the paper so that she could read the story in full.

‘Says he was left for dead.’ Ruby sorted through Jean’s washing basket to see if there was enough for a load. ‘Beat up beyond recognition, apparently.’

‘Oh, dear, Ruby. I do wonder what the world is coming to, so many decent folk getting hurt. I can’t believe anyone –’ Jean stopped as she read the victim’s name. ‘Well, I never.’

Jean hadn’t heard the name Brendan Furnival in a long time; never really wanted to hear about him again, either. When he was working at Ravenside Children’s Home at the same time she was there, he’d threatened to cut off her fucking tongue and shove it where the sun don’t fucking shine if she breathed a word about what she’d seen to anyone. Never intimidated by the actions of a horrible young man, Jean had told the home manager and the rest was painful history, swept under the carpet so that no one got to hear about it. A month later she’d been let go.

What she’d seen was Furnival in bed with one of the young girls – Cassie, she was called. A troubled soul who became worse the longer she’d stayed at the home. Furnival was sacked soon after, once Jean had made a formal complaint but before anything was done about it.

In a way, Jean had been glad to leave Ravenside and all it stood for well behind her after that. But she’d never forgotten that, until the home closed, she’d left children in the hands of animals. That would haunt her until the day she died.

‘Well, I never what?’ Ruby stood waiting for the rest of the sentence.

Jean smiled at her before picking up a biscuit. ‘Just a case of what goes around comes around.’

Once she’d turned onto the main road, Ella slowed her pace, laughing to herself as she recalled the look on Jake’s face. It was classic: he really did believe she’d make stuff up about him. Silly boy – maybe that would teach him not to take advantage. One thing she knew for certain was that she had the upper hand. He’d keep his mouth shut about their little episode.

Still giggling when she arrived at the shop a few minutes later, she sidled down the aisles, adding junk food to her basket as well as the bottles of alcohol. It was when she went to pay for them that she stopped dead in her tracks. The headlines in that evening’s
Sentinel
came at her as if they were written in three feet tall letters.

‘
Man left for dead in Trentham.
’

She paled when she saw it, a layer of sweat erupting all over her body.

‘Are you okay?’ the woman behind the till asked. ‘Would you like a glass of water? You’ve gone a really funny colour.’

Ella did her best to seem normal and thought of something quickly to put her off the scent. ‘No, I’m fine, thanks,’ she smiled. ‘A bit of morning sickness in the afternoon. A delight – not.’

The woman smiled back sympathetically. ‘Tell me about it.
I ha
d an awful time with my first.’

As the cashier scanned her items through the till, telling more tales of woe about her second and third child, Ella prayed that the sudden rush of nausea would pass. All she could see in her mind’s eye were the smears of blood on the banister. If Brendan did tell the police it was her, they’d be at her door soon. She’d seen those gadgets on television programs, used to detect blood that had been washed away. They would know it was her and lock her up for good! She’d go mad for certain, then.

But you’re already mad. You do realise that, don’t you?

She avoided looking at the headline again until she was going out the door. It made her sob. Not wanting to cause a commotion, she quickened her pace with every step until she was in danger of tripping over her feet.

Shit, they were on to her already. Ella had to get away before they caught her, locked her away in a mental institution. They would. She knew they would. They wouldn’t have a choice after what she’d done, wouldn’t be interested in why she’d attacked him so viciously.

Once off the main road, she ran, not stopping until she was back in Warwick Avenue.

I had to stay with Brendan until I had my baby. I didn’t have any choice, really. I mean, where would I have gone? Even I, a
master
of hiding and coping with pain, was scared shitless to give birth on my own. But she died anyway.

She fucking died! She was stillborn, something to do with all the abuse I’d put my body through; I can’t really remember now. When they said she was too tiny to survive, I remember I cried and cried. Social Services had been worried about the effects my alcohol intake would have on the baby before it was born. They should have stopped me abusing my body.

I named her Amy. And yes, you all know by now what a selfish bitch I am but even I knew she’d be better off dying than living with me.

For a long time, I remember thinking that they would hate me for what I had done. I don’t even know who ‘they’ were. I only ever saw Brendan and a few of his mates if they called round to see him, or to shag me.

And no one warned me about the grief. I felt like a part of me had been ripped away, taking my heart with it. She was my baby, my daughter! A tiny piece of me that I had created, that I had made, that was something good in my life.

I wanted to love her. I needed someone to look after, care for: someone who would give me unconditional love; someone who would need me. I would have protected her with my life. I would have, if I’d had the opportunity.

I never got the chance to have another baby. I got pregnant again three times but I miscarried them all. Even my babies rejected me!