The Girl From Number 22 (36 page)

When she heard the key in the door, Jenny ground her teeth together. The dishes were washed and put away, and she’d shaken the tablecloth in the yard. All she had to do now was see to herself, and she’d hoped to do that before her father came home.

Tom Phillips stood in the kitchen doorway, his usual scowl on his face. ‘Where the hell’s yer mother? She should be here, waiting to put me dinner down in front of me.’

‘Me mam’s gone out, and yer dinner is in the oven. Surely ye’re capable of lifting a plate out of the oven?’

‘That’s yer bleeding mother’s job, not mine. What does she think I pay her for?’ His lip curled as he growled, ‘You get me dinner out, I’ve been bleeding working all day. Wait till yer ma gets in, it’s a hiding she’s asking for.’ He swayed into the living room and fell back into the fireside chair. ‘Where the hell’s she gone, anyway?’

Jenny’s mind was ticking over. She felt like telling him to get off his backside and see to his own dinner. Anyone would think he was the only one working all day. But her common sense told her that to cross him would be asking for trouble. Best to give him his dinner, and while he was eating she could get herself ready to go out. It would be less trouble all round to do it that
way. So, using a tea towel to shield her hands against the heat, she opened the oven and carefully removed the plate that was covering the dinner so it wouldn’t dry up.

‘Here’s yer dinner.’ The plate was put down in front of Tom Phillips, and the look he gave his daughter showed he was in a raging temper and ready to flare. ‘I asked yer a question, yer stupid mare. Where’s yer mother gone?’

‘How do I know? I’m not me mother’s keeper, she doesn’t have to tell me where she’s going. Or you, for that matter. Anyway, there’s yer dinner, so stop yer moaning. I’m going to get washed. I’m going out, too.’ With that she turned on her heel and walked back to the kitchen. A quick wash, clean her teeth, change her dress, apply a little lipstick and comb her hair. Ten minutes at the most, then she’d be on her way. Thank goodness. She didn’t fancy spending any time with a man who had no control over his violent temper.

Tom Phillips pushed himself out of the fireside chair and reached for the table to support him and hold him steady while he pulled out a dining chair and sat down. He stared at the plate of sausage and mash in front of him, and snorted. He wasn’t really hungry, for he’d stopped at a pub on the way home for a few pints. But it wasn’t hunger that was fuelling his temper, it was the fact his bitch of a wife had the nerve to be out when he got in from work. Adding to that, was her absence from his bed for the last two nights. He didn’t love his wife, but in his mind she was there to gratify his lust whenever he felt the urge. It was her duty to see he was satisfied in that quarter. That was what she’d promised to do when they got married, wasn’t it? In his fuddled mind, he was telling himself she’d stood in front of the priest and made these promises, so she should be made to keep them. And,
by God, when she got in, he’d make sure she did her duty by him. She’d get a good hiding first, to remind her who was boss, then it would be back to the way things used to be, where he told her what he wanted her to do to please him, and she would oblige. He knew she did it out of fear, not a wish to please him, but it was seeing the fear in her eyes that thrilled him and heightened his desire. And the fact that she was frightened didn’t worry him. He didn’t care what she thought or felt. All he could think of now was that she would be back in his bed tonight or he’d beat the living daylights out of her.

Tom pushed the plate away in disgust. It wasn’t the food he objected to, it was the absence of a wife who should be there to do his bidding. Then his lip curled in a smile that was more of a grimace. His wife wasn’t there, but her daughter was.

In the kitchen, Jenny had swilled her face and reached for the towel she’d placed within easy reach on the draining board. She was holding it to her face, and didn’t see the figure standing in the doorway, saliva running from the side of his mouth as he eyed her young figure with desire stirring in his loins. The first she knew was a hand on the back of her neck, and her head being pushed down into the sink. She could sense her father’s heavy breathing on her neck, and the foul smell of beer. Her heartbeat began to race, but it was all happening so fast she couldn’t think clearly. Instinct made her push back, to try to move his body away from hers. But his full weight was leaning on her, and she couldn’t budge him. And the pressure on her head was such that she had visions of him breaking her neck. Then a cry left her lips as she felt a hand on her leg. ‘Leave me alone,’ she snapped, ‘and take yer dirty hand off me.’

Tom’s coarse laugh sent a chill down her spine, and his words
filled her with terror. ‘Yer ma’s not here to give me what I want, so you can stand in for her. Now keep still, yer stupid cow, or it’ll be worse for yer.’

Jenny felt his hand moving up her leg, over the bare flesh at the top of her stocking, and into the leg of her knickers. Fear gripped her, and she had to stop herself from screaming. All she could think of was that the neighbours mustn’t know what was going on. No one must know. Then her fear turned to anger when she felt a finger moving inside her knickers. It galvanised her into action, and she began to kick backwards, using both feet. She heard her father laugh, for she was missing his legs, and the sound spurred her on. He wasn’t going to do what he liked with her, she’d kill him first. So she bent her arms, and with her elbows and feet she began digging and kicking like a mad woman. Then she heard him yelp with pain as one of her kicks caught him on the shin. He loosened his grip on her for a second as he rubbed his leg, and Jenny took advantage and pushed him away. She fled into the living room, leaving Tom Phillips hopping on one foot and swearing. He hobbled after her, but Jenny was quick, being driven by fear and loathing. She grabbed her handbag from the sideboard as she passed, and her coat from the hook by the front door. A moment later she was outside, and banging the door behind her.

Leaning back against the wall, Jenny breathed in the night air as tears ran down her cheeks. She thought of what her father had done, and could feel the bile rising to her throat. She felt dirty, and wanted to be sick. How could her father do that to her? He wasn’t a real father, he was a madman. If her mother found out what he’d done, it would kill her. She’d be so ashamed, and blame herself. But she would never find out, no one would. Not from her anyway. The hatred she felt for her father now was so
overwhelming, she never wanted to see his face ever again. He’d made her feel cheap and dirty. The very thought of him made her skin crawl. And she swore that she’d get even with him one day.

Jenny shivered as the cold penetrated her clothes. She didn’t have a scarf or gloves, there hadn’t been time to pick them up. Her only thought had been to get out of the house and away from the roving hands and the filthy mouth of the beast who was her father. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t go to the dance, not the way she felt. So once again she’d not only let her mates down, she’d have to lie to them. Make some sort of excuse. One thing was certain, they’d never ask her again. And she couldn’t stay where she was, leaning against the wall of the house. Any minute now the man who had degraded her would be coming out and strolling up to the pub as though he didn’t have a care in the world. He’d treated her like trash, belittled her and made her feel unclean, but that wouldn’t bother him. He wouldn’t even give it a second thought. And her mother had put up with him for twenty years.

In her mind’s eye, Jenny could see her mother as she was earlier. She was smiling, and you could see there was hope in her heart for a better future. But there was no bright future for any of them, not while Tom Phillips ruled the roost. The thought brought tears to Jenny’s eyes, for she loved her mother dearly. She was a wonderful mother, loving and caring. And she was a good woman, who deserved better than to spend the rest of her life with a drunken rotter.

Tears blurred Jenny’s vision, and although she heard a door bang, she didn’t know where the sound came from. But she told herself she’d have to move, or anyone passing would think she was crazy for standing out in the cold. She’d walk to the bottom
of the street and hang around until her mother came home from the pictures. Then she’d make an excuse and say she hadn’t felt like going to the dance after all.

Danny Fenwick banged the door behind him and stepped down on to the pavement. He had a smile on his face after listening to the antics of his mam and her mates. Then as he turned to walk down the street, he caught sight of Jenny leaning against the wall outside her house. As he made to cross the cobbles, she began to walk away, so he called to her. ‘Hey, Jenny, are yer running away from me? I won’t eat yer, yer know, because I’ve just had me dinner and I’m full up.’

Jenny quickened her pace. She couldn’t face anyone now, not with tears rolling down her cheeks and her whole body shaking. The only face she would welcome now was that of her mother or Ben. She could tell them she’d run out of the house because she couldn’t stand her father’s bad language. And they’d believe her because they knew what he was like. At least they thought they did. But it would never even enter their heads that he was wicked enough to molest his own daughter.

Danny caught up with her and pulled on her arm. ‘What’s the hurry, Jenny? Ye’re walking so fast anyone would think the devil was after yer.’ He was quick to note how she drew her arm back, and cringed as she moved away from him. They were nearing the end of the street now, and by the light from the gas lamp he could see her red, tear-stained face. ‘What’s the matter, Jenny? Has yer father been up to his tricks again? There must be some reason for yer walking the street in this cold weather without a scarf or gloves on.’

He had given her an excuse, and a reason, although he would never know it. And Jenny was grateful, and quick to take
advantage. ‘I ran out of the house like this, ’cos I couldn’t listen to me dad’s moaning and complaints any longer. And his language makes me sick.’

‘Is yer mam in?’

Jenny shook her head. ‘No, me mam went to first house pictures. That’s where I’m going now, to meet her coming out. And our Ben is at his mate’s.’

Danny narrowed his eyes. The words didn’t ring true. There was far more involved than Jenny was saying, for he felt sure no amount of bad language would have her running down the street crying. It was obvious she’d been upset, for apart from the red-rimmed eyes, she was trembling like a leaf. He wasn’t going to probe, though, that would upset her more. ‘Did yer mam go to the pictures on her own, then?’

Jenny nodded. She was praying he would go away and leave her alone. He was a nice boy, but right now she was wishing him miles away. She dreaded him putting his hand on her arm again, for she didn’t want a man’s hands on her. ‘She’ll be along soon, so yer’ve no need to stay with me. I suppose ye’re off to a dance?’

‘I am, yeah! Must have me nightly dose or I won’t sleep properly. But there’s no hurry. I can walk with yer to meet yer mam, keep yer company. It won’t kill me to miss a dance. As long as it isn’t a slow foxtrot, like, ’cos that’s me favourite.’

‘Yer don’t have to miss a dance on my behalf,’ Jenny said. ‘The first house pictures will be coming out soon, so I’m going to meet me mam.’

‘Why not come to the dance with me, Jenny?’ Danny asked. For some reason he didn’t want to leave her on her own. She looked so vulnerable. ‘Then I might find out the secret of yer favourite dance. Yer wouldn’t tell me, remember?’

‘What? Go to a dance looking like this?’ Jenny opened her
arms wide and looked down at herself. ‘I’d make a holy show of yer, Danny. Yer mates would wonder where yer picked me up.’

‘I’m not a snob, Jenny. I’d never be ashamed of a friend.’

‘Well, I’d be ashamed, if you weren’t.’ Jenny was hoping he would just go away. She was still feeling sick, and her tummy felt as though it was filled with butterflies. And she felt dirty. As soon as she got home, she was going to scrub herself from top to bottom. A little voice in her head was telling her she had done nothing to be ashamed of, but that didn’t make her feel any better. And her biggest worry was that every day she would be reminded of the horror her father had put her through, for she couldn’t avoid seeing him. Unless she left home. But as soon as the thought entered her head, Jenny discarded it. She would never leave home while her mother and brother were still there.

It was the sound of a tram trundling along that brought Jenny out of her thoughts. ‘Go to the dance, Danny, or I’ll be kicking meself all night because I made yer miss it. Go on, or yer’ll miss the tram.’

‘On one condition, Jenny.’

‘What’s that?’

‘That I can call and see yer tomorrow night, so yer can tell me the truth about why ye’re walking the streets on yer own. I can’t believe it was only because of yer dad’s bad language.’

‘Danny, the tram is starting to leave, but yer could jump on if yer hurry.’

‘I can get the next one. They’re along every few minutes.’ Danny thought fleetingly of his dancing partners, Janet, Dorothy and Betsy. He didn’t go to the dance last night, and if he missed again they’d wonder what was wrong with him. ‘Yer mam might be along by then, and I’d feel better. But I’d still be curious.’

‘Curious about what?’ Jenny was getting agitated. She didn’t
want him to be with her when her mother came along. ‘I don’t know why ye’re so bothered, Danny, ’cos yer don’t even know me! Me mam has made a friend of your mam, which I’m very grateful for, but you don’t know me from Adam.’

‘No, that is correct. But I do know when a damsel is in distress. Also, we are neighbours, our parents are friends, and we are roughly in the same age group. So I would like to get to know you much more than I would like to get to know Adam.’

Upset as she was, Jenny couldn’t stop a glimmer of a smile crossing her face. It would be hard to fall out with this boy. Like his mother, he was kind and caring. And he had the deepest dimples she’d ever seen. She would like to get to know him better, but there was a big obstacle in the way. A father from hell.