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“Who’s she?”
“Must be the old tart next door,” says Ted. “She looking for trouble, is she?”
“I’m looking for trouble,” I say. “If you don’t get out of here immediately, I’m going to ring for the police.”
If I had expected my audience to bash their heads together in a mad rush for the door I would be disappointed.
“You know what your trouble is, darling?” says Ted. “You’re too tense.”
“Up tight is what he means,” says Nutter, folding his arms round me. “You want to relax more.”
“Let me go!” I say. It is awful because I can feel his thing pressing against my tummy. I try to struggle but he is terribly strong. Hairy, too.
“She needs a little relieving massage,” says Ted. “Bring her over here.” He stretches out an arm and pulls me down onto the bed.
“You touch me and I’ll scream,” I warn him.
“And disturb all the neighbours? You don’t want to do that.”
He runs his hand over my stomach and I notice that he has incredibly hairy wrists. On some men I find that quite sexy.
“You wouldn’t dare,” I say.
“Massage,” says Ted.
“Yeah,” says Flash. Of the three I like him the least. Not, of course, that I would pay for any of the others to go to charm school.
“You’re getting the counterpane filthy,” I say.
“For you, Princess, I’ll take it off. Now. Why don’t you do something like that?” Before I can say anything he has put his hand up my skirt and is pulling at my tights and panties. “I like these long skirts, don’t you, Nutter?”
“Yeh, they keep your neck warm.”
I am in big trouble. If I start screaming, all the neighbours will hear and Mrs Wilson will call the police. There is also Natalie to consider. By lying here and letting them do these awful things to me I am protecting her. It is terrible but—
“Help me peel her,” says Ted.
“Yeah,” says Flash.
Their crude hands force down my skirt while by word and gesture I try to convey my revulsion.
“Bet you’re feeling better already,” says Nutter as he kneels across me and starts popping open the buttons of my silk blouse. They are covered in fabric and I can just see the problems I am going to have getting the grease stains out. Nutter is half naked and in a matter of minutes the person wearing most on the bed is Flash. He has on a grey string vest which might one day have been white. Clothes are littered all over the room and I can see my lovely plaid skirt lying in a crumbled heap on the floor. I am so distressed that I can hardly find the strength to push Ted away. His disgustingly lithe, muscle-packed body looms over mine and he begins to gnaw one of my nipples as if it is a wad of chewing tobacco. On all sides, pussy-pummellers menace me like loaded weapons.
“Right, darling,” says Ted. “Cop this.”
“If you’re going to do that,” I say to Flash, “take your boots off the pillowcase.”
Honestly, the things I have to go through for my sister.
CHAPTER 3
It was awful getting raped. I mean—not so much getting raped as all the embarrassment it caused. Especially with Geoffrey. It was a pity that he had to come barging in to say that the police were in the hall just as Nutter was—perhaps I had better not say what Nutter was doing. I don’t really like to think about it myself.
As you can imagine, I was in a terrible state. I mean, after all I had gone through, to find that the police were downstairs was really too much. And so sneaky, too. I thought they were supposed to ring bells and all that kind of thing. At least Natalie had been spared. This thought was some comfort to me in the trying days to come.
I will always remember the expression on Geoffrey’s face as he slumped back against Mum’s dressing table and watched Nutter and Flash trying to put on the same pair of pants—I think they were mine in any case.
“Don’t just stand there, Geoffrey,” I have to tell him. “Come and help straighten this counterpane.”
“You swines!” He can be so emotional sometimes it is quite embarrassing. He hurls himself at Ted and collects another punch on the nose as the hideous trio make a bolt for the stairs.
“Geoffrey, please! If you’re going to start bleeding all over everything again you might as well go downstairs.” I mean, as if I did not have enough problems.
Geoffrey is practically wringing his hands. “Did they—? Did you—? Were you—?”
“It’s no good crying over spilt milt—I mean, milk,” I say, fluffing up the pillows. “Pull yourself together, Geoffrey. It’s not the end of the world. Anyway I don’t see what you’re getting so agitated about. I had to put up with all the unpleasantness.”
For a moment I think he is going to burst into tears. It is a shame really because I am only trying to be level-headed like Nurse Dubotaki on the Dr Eradlik show. Just “picking up the pieces” as she would put it.
Downstairs there are more policemen than you would find in a raid on a strip club and by the time they leave, the front garden is churned up worse than Mrs Wilson’s lawn—rotten old bag! Apparently some of the neighbours reported a man trying to crawl through the toilet window while the rest of the calls were just about the noise. Anyway, six police cars turn up which is considered a local record. They are very unhappy about Jim Whats-his-name? in the toilet because they think he has been trying to flush acid round the bend. When they break the door down they discover otherwise. Very unpleasant it is too. The bloke who got jammed in the window is not very happy either because somebody pulled his trousers down and put boot polish all over his bottom. Some people do have a funny sense of humour, don’t they?
By the time the last police dog has finished savaging the front room cushions and Natalie and I are left alone it is three o’clock in the morning and the house looks as if it has been used to store hurricanes.
“Well, I hope you’re satisfied,” I say. “That was a nice party, wasn’t it? The house wrecked and the neighbours already forming a queue to complain to Mum and Dad. Have you seen Mrs Wilson’s lawn? It looks as if it’s been used for a ploughing match.”
“Just our luck that it had to rain,” sighs Natalie.
“Our luck?” I laugh hollowly. “I must have been round the bend to let you throw this party. Where do you meet some of the people you invited? That Ted creature, for instance. He attacked me, you know.”
“Why? Wouldn’t you let him out?”
“I’m serious, Natalie. I was subjected to a physical assault by all three of them.”
“If you mean raped, why don’t you say so?”
“It’s not a word I like to use out loud.” She is very free with her language is Natalie. I can feel myself blushing.
“Why didn’t you tell the police?”
“How could I? You know the scandal would break Mum’s heart. I couldn’t do that to her.”
“Not. But you could snitch my boyfriend.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Natalie.” It is amazing how people can react against you when you’ve tried to do your best, isn’t it?”
“I’m not being ridiculous. You’re just a lousy hypocrite. You fancied him yourself.”
For a moment I am speechless. How could she imagine me falling for that gib, hairy, muscley, over-developed sex maniac? The whole idea is too ridiculous for words.
“If you must know, I did it—I mean, I submitted in order to protect you,” I say.
At these words the ungrateful little baggage has the cheek to laugh in my face. It is almost too much. There was me, bending over backwards to spare her the crude physical indignities that were inflicted on my body and she has the impertinence to suggest that I was doing it for my own gratification. At that moment only the forbearance gained by watching the Dr Eradlik programme prevents me from saying something I might one day regret.
“Balls!” Junior Foul Mouth loses no time in continuing her unjustified attack. “You don’t fool me! You pretend to be all goody-goody, but underneath you’re sex-mad. Well, big sister, I have news for you. While you were stealing my boy friends I was moving in on yours.”
“What are you talking about?” I say—having a nasty idea that I know very well what she is talking about.
“Geoffrey made passionate love to me in Dad’s shed,” she says, slowly removing a cobweb from her jumper as if to prove it.
“Don’t be ridiculous. He was terribly upset when he heard what had happened to me.”
“He wasn’t worrying when he was with me. He’s very sexy when he gets his blazer off, isn’t he?”
“He actually made love to you?” I ask. I mean, I just can’t believe it. Not Geoffrey.
“And how. Dad’s vice fell off the work bench.”
More destruction! It really is too bad. And, even more difficult to bear, is the physical betrayal involved. My own sister and the boy whose net I have adjusted at the Eastwood Tennis Club. If blood is thicker than water in our family then no wonder Mum’s porridge tastes like consommé. I know that men are hypocrites but how could he have made so much fuss about my sacrifice after misbehaving with Miss Rentapussy? Even Doctor Eradlik does not have to contend with this kind of treachery in his unflagging fight to make Mount Vista Hospital a better place to die in.
“I can’t bring myself to use words low enough to describe your behaviour,” I say with dignity.
“Hoity-toity,” sneers Natalie.
“In order to avoid more bloodshed I think it would be a good idea if we started cleaning opposite ends of the house,” I say with commendable self control. “May I suggest that you tackle the so appropriately named tool shed—if it is still standing?”
Mum and Dad are due back on the Sunday afternoon and Natalie and I hardly exchange more than a few words up to that time. However, I do see Mrs Wilson. I am standing in one of the dustbins trying to force the rubbish down and make room for some more bottles. She takes one look at me, over the fence, shrugs, and says “That’s the best place for both of you.”
By the time I have opened my mouth she has gone inside her house and slammed the back door. There is obviously little point in expecting any sympathy there.
“Do you think we ought to go to the station?” I ask Natalie.
“And get a train out of the country?”
“No, stupid. Meet Mum and Dad.”
“You can never be certain what train they’ll catch. We don’t want to miss them and find them having a long chat with Mrs W. when we get back.”
“True. We’d better stay here, then. Do you think the place looks all right?”
“It’s difficult to say. I know where all the stains and scuff marks are, so I notice them more easily than the average person might.”
“I hope you’re right. The trouble is that Mum isn’t the average person. After six days away she and Dad are going to come through that door like they’ve got to find six deliberate mistakes in sixty seconds.”
For once Natalie and I share a common emotion. It is expressed in a shiver of terror.
It is half past four when Mum and Dad pause at the gate and look at the garden as if they can’t believe their eyes. I remember the time because a film called A Farewell To Arms had just ended and I am still brushing away the tears. It is about this nurse who falls in love with a soldier at the front. You know—where the fighting is. They make love in his hospital bed and she gets pregnant and dies in childbirth just as they are going to cross over into Switzerland and safety. It is so sad that I cried buckets. The bloke was Rock Hudson and it really made me feel what a wonderful job nurses do.
While I am trying to compose myself, Natalie rushes to the front door and throws it open. “Hello, Mumsie!” she cries. “Did you have a lovely time?”
“Quite nice, thank you, dear,” says Mum.
Dad is still gazing thunderstruck at the garden. “Where are all the flowers?” he says.
“The milkman’s horse got up on the pavement, Dad.”
“He got it out of retirement, did he? He’s had a van for five years.”
“Vandals,” I say. “There’s been an awful lot of trouble while you’ve been away. Look what they did to Mrs Wilson’s lawn.”
“Blimey. I thought it was an open cast coal mine. You told the police, have you?”
“They know all about it,” says Natalie truthfully. “What was the weather like, Dad?”
Dad carries the suitcases into the house. “Diabolical. The worst we’ve ever had there—the worst we will ever have there. I’m not going back. Holiday? It was more like six days in a prisoner of war camp.”
“Where’s my coat?” says Mum, looking at the hallstand.
I am just thinking that it must have been nicked and wondering what to say when the telephone rings. I know instinctively who it must be, but before I can move Dad picks up the receiver.
“Hello? Oh, hello Mrs Wilson.” He puts his hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s Mrs Wilson. Stupid old bag. What on earth can she want?”
“I’m going upstairs,” says Mum.
Ten minutes later Natalie and I are in the front room with Dad who now knows what Mrs Wilson wanted. He has turned a strange blue colour and his hands are shaking. “Now listen, you two,” he says. “I’m going to—”
At that moment Mum comes in. She, too, is looking strained and holding something in her hand. “I was doing the unpacking and I noticed these stuffed down the end of our bed,” she says. “Whose are they?”
She is dangling a pair of bright yellow men’s underpants which, with a shiver of distaste, I remember covering Flash’s vulgarly large private parts. Natalie bursts into tears.
“Were people using our bedroom?” snarls Dad.
“Oh Rosie, why did I ever listen to you?” sobs my deceitful little sister.
“Right. You go outside with your mother. I want to speak to Rosie.” They are hardly out of the room before Dad lets fly. “What you’ve done is a bloody disgrace! You’ve disobeyed your mother and you’ve blackened our name amongst the neighbours—I understand you’ve even had the police round here. The house is like a pigsty and I shudder to think what went on.”
“Dad—”
“Shut up! When I want your interruptions I’ll ask for them.
“What I am most disturbed about is the effect your behaviour is having on your sister. She is at a very formative age and the kind of carryings on you go in for could be a blooming disaster as far as her moral standards are concerned.”
“Dad—!”
“Shut up!!! You must realise that, being older than her, you have to set some kind of example. Supposing she starts imitating your behaviour?”
“It’s not fair, Dad. I always get the blame for everything. Just because she’s younger than I am you seem to think that butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Well, I’ve got news for you—”
“And I’ve got news for you, my girl. I want you out of this house just as soon as you can find a job to support you. I think you’re a bad influence on your sister and it’s much better if the two of you are kept apart.”
