Authors: Lisa O'Donnell
‘I don’t know. The Woody,’ I say.
‘She’s not in the Woody, we looked there already,’ says Mr Macleod.
‘Maybe the park,’ says Dirty Alice who is standing behind me and gives me a little bit of a fright.
‘It’s pitch black. She’d never go there. She’s a cowardy custard of the dark,’ I say.
‘How do you know?’ Dirty Alice nips and then she pushes me and in front of everyone. I hate her.
‘All girls are scared of the dark,’ I shout.
‘That’s enough, you two,’ snaps Da, who has gone as white as a sheet. Ma looks like she’s about to burst into tears and Granny takes a nip of the brandy. They are thinking the flasher has her.
‘Do you know where she is, Alice?’ asks Mr MacLeod.
Dirty Alice goes as red as a berry.
‘Alice, if you know where Marianne is you have to tell us,’ says Ma. ‘Did she go to the park?’
Dirty Alice shrugs.
Ma grabs her. ‘Where did she go?’ She actually shakes her. Ma’s scared.
‘I’ll handle this, Rosemary,’ says Mr MacLeod and then he grabs Alice by the shoulders and shakes her exactly like Ma did.
‘Where is she?’ he yells.
Dirty Alice starts to cry and no wonder with all the shaking she’s getting. I don’t feel bad for her though, everyone hates her now and she deserves it.
‘She’s under my bed,’ says Dirty Alice.
‘Under your bed?’ says Granny. ‘What the hell is she doing under your bed, lassie?’
‘Hiding from all of you!’
Dirty Alice runs away.
‘Go get her,’ says Da.
‘No,’ I say.
‘Do as you’re told!’ says Ma. ‘Brian, take Tricia home.’
Da looks like he doesn’t want to.
‘Do it,’ says Ma.
Da pulls a terrible face but leaves with Tricia anyway. I am made to chase stupid Dirty Alice even though I don’t care if she gets lost.
Everyone else runs away to tell Skinny Rab and Marianne’s ma that Marianne is safe under the bed of Dirty Alice, which I bet is filthy.
When I get outside I find Miss Connor hugging Dirty Alice with Mr McFadden. Mr McFadden is telling her everything is OK and doesn’t seem to mind that Marianne is hiding in his house under the disgusting bed of Dirty Alice getting poisoned probably. I go back inside. There is no one there except Fat Ralph and he’s stuffing his face with paste sandwiches and there’s the lovely pink cake that won’t get eaten, but then Miss Connor comes in and asks us if we want a slice and cuts it all up for us to eat. People start to come back inside after a while and someone starts up the music again, but it’s not a party any more. Everyone is talking about the fight and eating mostly. People love to eat and talk. Miss Connor and Mr McFadden don’t care though and when the slushy music comes on they dance and are happy again. I wish Ma and Da would dance like that but Da has taken Tricia home and Ma is eating cake alone. Granny yawns and wants to go home in a taxi, but I want to stay and eat the cake that I nearly choke on when I see Paul MacDonald dancing with Dirty Alice as if they like each other. It’s a horrible thing to watch and when I see Paul in the morning I will tear into him for being so stupid dancing with a dog like Dirty Alice.
When we get home Ma and Granny are shocked to find Tricia Law sleeping on our sofa.
Da is watching TV, drinking a cup of tea.
‘What the hell is she doing here?’ gasps Ma.
‘I don’t know where she lives, do I?’
‘The Brae,’ says Granny. ‘We went there New Year’s. Are you stupid? Now get going. I’ll not be waking to that sight in the morning.’
‘I’m not dragging Tricia Law with her knickers about her ankles up any Brae. Not everyone was at that party. They’d think all sorts of things.’
‘Just leave her,’ says Ma to Granny.
I wondered where Da would sleep that night and was glad Tricia Law got a hiding from Marianne’s ma. She’d taken Da’s bed and made Marianne run away. She was not a nice lady to me and her knickers are stupid. I hope she catches her death of cold.
THE FLASHER IS
at it again. This time a fifteen-year-old girl at the Academy, but he doesn’t catch her. She ran away like Ma did. It was in the local paper, but we’re not to know her name because the victim is so young, but everyone knows it was Suzanne Miller, who works on the tills in the supermarket on Saturdays.
‘She is a good runner and plays hockey,’ says Paul. ‘He must have been scared to death of her.’
I want to tell them my ma is a good runner also, but I don’t. They can’t know a thing about Ma and the flasher. In the morning I am told again to keep my gob shut.
‘It’s more important than ever, Michael. Not one word,’ says Da.
‘Not one,’ repeats Granny.
Suzanne Miller is a big hero in the town now and when we go to the supermarket she is working her till as usual. She doesn’t look like Ma did when she was flashed. Suzanne’s face is normal and bright. She has no bruises or cuts. No scars or bleeding from her head. Granny deliberately stands in line for Suzanne’s till, I know this because there are three other tills she could easily go to and all she has is a loaf of bread in her basket. When I look behind me I see lots of women and men lining up behind Granny, all of them wanting to know the story of the flasher and how Suzanne escaped a terrible pervert. When Granny gets her turn she tells Suzanne what a brave girl she is, getting away from a monster like that. Suzanne is excited and can’t wait to tell us the story.
‘Oh, Mrs Murray, I was frightened for my life. He grabbed at me like this.’
Suzanne shows us how he grabbed her and puts her own arms across her throat. ‘And he was trying to drag me like this.’ She tips her head back and steps back a little. I wonder about Ma being dragged before he showed her his willy and she ran away. My poor ma, she must have been so scared.
‘He was trying to pull me into the Glen you see. Can you imagine if he’d gotten me in there?’ says Suzanne.
‘Doesn’t bear thinking about,’ says Granny.
Suzanne whispers, ‘He could have raped me, Mrs Murray.’
Granny is stone cold. I wonder what rape is and I am going to ask when Granny puts her hand across my mouth.
‘Sorry, Mrs Murray. I didn’t see him there,’ says Suzanne.
‘How did you get away from him?’ asks Granny.
‘Well, when he tried to pull me into the Glen he tripped back into the stump of a tree, didn’t he? Fell on his arse so I started running. Screaming I was.’
‘Did he show you his willy?’ I ask.
Granny slaps me across the head.
‘How dare you ask a question like that, you filthy wee beggar. Say sorry to Suzanne.’
‘S’all right,’ says Suzanne. ‘They’re bound to be curious at that age, aren’t they? And no, Michael, he showed me no such thing.’
‘Did you see his face, Suzanne? Did you notice anything about him at all?’ whispers Granny.
She shakes her head. ‘He came from behind me, didn’t he? But did I mention his chain? He had a gold one on his wrist, that’s all I remember. I couldn’t help the police at all.’
When we get out the supermarket Granny is dragging me home and I know I am going to get the tanning of my life, just for asking about willies, but that’s not what happens. I am sent to bed early, but I can’t sleep. I can hear shouting from downstairs.
‘The boy should know,’ says Da. ‘He’s already asking questions. He’s not stupid. He knows it’s something.’
Ma screams, ‘He’s not to know.’
Granny says, ‘I agree with Rosemary. The boy thinks it was a flasher. Let him think that is what it was. It’s safer that way.’
It wasn’t a flasher, I think to myself, and I am shocked to my bones.
‘Suzanne Miller was almost raped. Are you both mad? We can’t keep this to ourselves any longer.’
‘It’s Rosemary’s business,’ says Granny to Da.
‘Someone else will get hurt. Do you want that on your conscience, Rosemary?’ Da screams.
‘I can’t,’ cries Ma.
‘We’ll go to the police. They’ll understand,’ says Da.
‘It’s too late,’ says Granny. ‘They’d never believe her.’
‘Would you shut your mouth?’ screams Da.
‘Don’t you talk to me like that!’ cries Granny.
‘Then stop talking shite,’ says Da.
‘I don’t want to. I won’t. And if you want to stay married to me, Brian Murray, you won’t mention this again,’ growls Ma.
‘But you told your professor. Telling the police will be exactly the same.’
‘That was different. My teacher is not from here. You know how they are in this town. They’d say terrible things. They’d say I took him to the park,’ cries Ma. ‘He didn’t do to Suzanne what he did to me.’
‘That girl was saved by God,’ says Granny, but Granny says that about everything, especially food that’s fallen on the floor.
‘He’ll have got a scare now, Brian. He won’t do it again. I know he won’t,’ yells Ma.
‘You know nothing of the kind,’ cries Da. ‘None of us do. He’ll do it again and shame on all of us if he does.’
Da slams the kitchen door. I hear a shuffle around the coat stand and the front door slam closed. Da doesn’t care he’s not welcome in the pubs. He doesn’t care people will make remarks about him beating up his wife and he doesn’t care no one will sit next to him. Da is going for a pint. He is going for lots of pints but he won’t bring chips home. He’ll bring bruises and words he shouldn’t say and then he’ll fall asleep on the concrete steps until Granny and Ma drag him to his feet and take him to the sofa. Ma will put a cover on him and want to kiss his forehead, but she won’t. She’ll cry and Granny will comfort her. Ma will go to her room and take her pills and she will fall asleep. Granny will make a cup of tea and I will sneak down beside her. She puts her arms around my shoulder.
‘You want some hot chocolate, son?’ she says.
‘Yes, please,’ I say, even though it’s watery, it’s still chocolate. After a while Granny cries. I put my arm around her. I feel bad because she wants to tell me all about rape but can’t, but like Da says, I’m going to find out about it sooner or later and when I do it’s going to make everyone angry.
I GET TO
eat cornflakes every morning for breakfast when it’s the holidays. I scatter tons of sugar all over them and mix them with loads of cold milk. In wintertime I have to have warm milk, or worse, porridge.
‘Would you look at that?’ says Da, waving the paper about. ‘Some fucker broke into the Queen’s own bedroom and asked for a fag.’
‘Would you watch your language in front of the lad?’ says Ma, even though Ma says worse words in front of me. Ma slams down the shirt she’s mending and leaves the room. Da doesn’t care. He doesn’t even look round. He is used to Ma and her nippy ways. We all are.
‘Scaled the wall in his bare feet and no one saw a thing,’ says Da.
‘Let me see that,’ says Granny and pores over Da’s shoulder. It annoys him because he starts to squirm around. He doesn’t like his ma too close to him.
‘Poor Elizabeth,’ says Granny. ‘She must have been scared shitless. Thank God for her butler.’
Da sniggers at this and I snigger too, I think it’s funny that a butler saves the day and so does Da. Da gives me a big smile and then it falls quickly from his face like all Da’s smiles do these days.
I think of what Suzanne was whispering in the supermarket. ‘
Could have raped me, Mrs Murray
,’ and I feel a chill go down my back. It’s a bad word for sure and saying it to anyone would most likely get me tanned. It sounds like
rip
and I wonder if they’re sort of the same. There are so many words I’m not meant to know or say, even though everyone else says them, like
shitless
and
fucker
and
bastard
. They must be stupid if they think I don’t know what those words mean, but here is a word I don’t know, and the word is
rape
and so I borrow Ma’s dictionary and get a pen and a piece of paper to write everything down. I know it’s going to be a big thing when I read about it. I find the word quickly.
Rape, raped, raping
.
Force of a man or other persons to have sexual intercourse by the threat or use of violence against any person.
Force
, I think.
Violence
.
I think I know about
intercourse
because Paul MacDonald told me after Deirdra was screaming about it in class one time. I think there is something wrong with Deirdra. Granny says she is a bit touched in the head.
Anyway, Paul got his nudey magazines out and told me intercourse was when a man gets hard in his willy and gets naked with one of the women in the pictures showing their fannies off. I know Ma would never show her fanny to anyone and it makes me feel scared. I ask him again even though I know he will tear lumps out of me.
‘Are you stupid or something? I told you already. Intercourse is like shagging and doing wanking, it’s all the same, but you have to do it with a woman. My da told me.’
I am suddenly worried Paul and his da have made a mistake and so I look up
intercourse
again.
Intercourse.
Communications between individuals or groups of persons or coitus.
I am more confused than ever and flick through the pages until I am at C. I eventually find coitus.
Coitus
.
Sexual intercourse.
I am running in circles, everything means the same, and so I look up
sexual
again.
Sexual.
Pertaining to or involving sexual relations.
I am suddenly not sure about anything and decide to ask Da about all the words, except
rape
, but I wait till Ma and Granny are doing something else, but then Granny walks in and hears me ask about the word
sexual
and gets very angry with me. Ma is right behind her and there I am stuck with all of them and not wanting to know any words at all.
‘
Sexual
is not a word I want to hear uttered in this house,’ says Granny.
‘Away and shite, woman,’ says Da. ‘They’re perfectly normal words for any growing lad to know.’
I blame Paul MacDonald and tell them he said them in the car park. I don’t tell them about the dirty magazines because they would tell his ma and da and the magazines would be taken away and I like the magazines. Anyway Granny said
sexual
was a sinful word but was not surprised it was used in Paul MacDonald’s house with ‘
Those sisters running around
’. Paul has three of them, and except for Georgina, the rest of his sisters look a lot like Paul, which is a shame because they’re very nice girls, even though they get about a bit. That’s what Granny says anyway, but she says that about a lot of people. If she knew about Marianne and her fanny, she would say worse about her and probably tell her ma.