Born Evil (7 page)

Billy knew that what she was saying was true. Unable to take his gaze off the little bundle in her arms, he walked towards her. ‘Can I hold him for a minute, Debs, so I can have a proper look at him?’

‘No, you can’t,’ she said, clinging on to her son for dear life. ‘I’ve just asked you a question, Billy. Don’t change the bloody subject! Why did you beat me up? What is it that triggers you off? Is there something in your past that you haven’t told me about?’

Her words and questions struck a nerve. Billy flopped down into his chair, held his head in his hands and began to sob. ‘Yes,’ he managed to mutter. ‘Something really bad happened to me … but I’ve never told anyone, Debs, only my brother. It’s so bad, I cannae tell yer.’

Debbie looked deep into his eyes and could see nothing but fear there.

‘Move your chair nearer,’ she urged him. Then, squeezing his hand comfortingly, she spoke kindly to him. ‘You have to tell me, Billy. Whatever it is, I need to know. If you don’t, I can’t help you.’

Billy held his hands over his face and kept them there. He was too embarrassed to look at her. Feeling thoroughly ashamed, he told her all the horrors of his childhood. As he finished spilling his guts, Debbie was stunned. She’d guessed he had some secret in his past, but never this. Poor Billy. Her heart went out to him.

‘Look at me, Billy, please,’ she said gently.

Getting up off the chair, he ignored her and walked over to the window. He couldn’t look at her in case he saw a look of disgust in her eyes. He was used to seeing it in his own. He saw it every day of every week, and every week of every year, whenever he glanced in the mirror. Opening the dirty window, he gulped in the fresh air. Unlike him, it felt clean and unspoiled.

As Debbie lay there in her hospital bed she felt completely lost for words. She knew from the past odd comment he’d muttered about his mother, that he’d had a shit childhood. But never in a million years would she have thought him the victim of sexual abuse. The signs just hadn’t been there.

Desperate to comfort him but not knowing what to say, she was almost relieved when the baby started to cry.

‘Come on, Bill, don’t stand over there. What happened to you wasn’t your fault. I’ll help you get through this, I promise. Now come over here. Our son’s crying and he needs his daddy.’

Shoulders slumped, Billy walked towards her, managed a half-smile and took his baby in his arms for the very first time. As he rocked him to and fro, he studied the baby intently and was pleased to see that he had the same colour hair and sharp features as himself. Smiling for the first time in days, he looked at Debs.

‘He’s a bonny lad, eh? Looks just like his daddy.’

Glad to see his mood had lifted, Debbie smiled back. ‘He’s your double, Billy, he’s a ringer for you. Now we must decide on a name. Do you still want to call him Charlie, after your brother?’

‘Can we?’ he asked, surprised. After what had happened, he hadn’t expected any choice in the matter. ‘Can he still have my surname?’

‘Of course he can.’

After kissing his son gently on the forehead, Billy handed him back to her.

‘Can I stay a bit longer, Debs, or would you rather I go now and pop back tomorrow?’

She took a deep breath. ‘I’m a bit tired now, Bill. I could do with some sleep. Why don’t you come back then, eh?’

‘Okay.’ He stood up. ‘Are we still an item, Debs, me and you?’

A nurse entering the room then saved Debbie from replying to his question when she didn’t know the answer. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow, Bill,’ she said softly as she took her medication.

As she watched the nurse put the giant teddy bear on the chair and take the flowers away, Debbie lay deep in thought. She knew in her heart that she still loved Billy, but she was worried about putting her and her son’s safety at risk. She knew Billy needed her and that she couldn’t walk away from that. How could she leave him after what he’d told her earlier? She might be stubborn and hard on the outside, but underneath her tough exterior she was kind and gentle and would do her utmost to help him.

Debbie gently guided the bottle into Charlie’s mouth. As she watched him feed, she knew she couldn’t deny him the chance of having his father around. Boys needed a daddy, and she was damned if she was going to let her son miss out, for the sake of her pride.

Perhaps now that Billy had told her everything, his evil temper would cease to be a problem. He had someone to talk to now, to discuss his problems with. Maybe that would calm him down, stop him losing his rag. Hoping against hope that she was making the right decision, Debbie smiled at her little bundle of joy.

‘I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, Charlie, but I think me and you should give Daddy one more chance. If he messes up, son, then it’s just me and you against the whole wide world. What do you think, eh, boy?’

Charlie finished his bottle, took one look at his mother and screamed.

DEBBIE LOOKED AT
her shiny new phone and knew that the first call she had to make was the one she’d been most dreading.

She had to ring her Mickey and invite him round to see the baby. Her brother was a clever bastard, and would get suspicious if she put him off any longer. She had no excuse now anyway as the tell-tale signs of the hiding she’d endured were long gone.

It was three weeks to the day since Charlie’s birth and she’d been back at home in Barking for just under a week. Giving Billy another chance hadn’t been easy, but she’d felt it was the right thing to do. She still hadn’t totally forgiven him; that would come in time, she hoped. But since she’d been home, Billy had been a different person. He’d been extra-kind and attentive, and when he wasn’t out working, had been waiting on her, hand and foot.

Sharon and Donna had been there to offer any advice she needed about motherhood, but the pair of them refused to come into her flat any more.

‘We want nothing more to do with that no-good bastard, and neither should you,’ they’d told her in no uncertain terms. Sharon, in particular, was furious with Debbie for giving him another chance. ‘You gotta be fucking mad, Debs,’ she’d insisted. ‘A leopard don’t change its spots, mate. He’ll do it again, you mark my words.’

Debbie had shrugged her shoulders, knowing that there was every chance her friend was right. There was no way she could explain why she’d taken him back, she couldn’t betray Billy’s confidence, so she’d just kept quiet and let her best friend think she’d taken leave of her senses.

Taking a deep breath, Debbie took the bit of paper Mickey had given her out of her purse and dialled her brother’s number. He already knew that she’d given birth to Charlie because she’d called him from Sharon’s phone a few days earlier, and given him a load of cock and bull about a premature labour.

‘I reckon they got the dates wrong, Mick,’ she’d lied.

Mickey had wanted to rush straight over to meet his little nephew, but Debbie had put him off. She’d told him that she felt like shit and needed to rest up for a few days before she had any visitors. ‘As soon as I feel well enough, you can be my first visitor,’ she’d promised.

Now, as the phone was answered, Debbie did her best to sound happy and jovial. ‘I feel much more like meself now, Mick, and little Charlie can’t wait to meet his uncle. When do you wanna come round?’

‘Tomorrow lunchtime okay, sis? I’ve got little Charlie loads of presents, and I’ve got a surprise for you as well.’

‘Great,’ Debbie said unenthusiastically. ‘See you tomorrow then, Mick. Come after one.’

She replaced the receiver, put her head in her hands and cried. She really didn’t feel like playing happy families, but knew she couldn’t avoid it.

The last couple of weeks had been hard for her, bloody hard, and since she’d come out of hospital she’d had very little sleep. It wasn’t Billy, he’d been fine. It was Charlie who was causing her untold worry. The kid just didn’t stop crying, and since she’d brought him home he’d got worse and worse.

She would feed him, rock him, cuddle him, but nothing seemed to work. Now she was at the end of her tether. He’d been fully checked over at the hospital and a health visitor had popped in to see him at home, assuring her that the baby was just fine and things would become easier in time.

Debbie flopped down on the bed, feeling thoroughly exhausted. Billy had gone back to work today and she felt a failure trying at coping alone. The baby seemed to respond better to his father than to her. If Billy picked Charlie up, his tears subsided. When she tried, they worsened. The child hated her, she could sense it. Either that or she was being paranoid and imagining things. Perhaps she had that post-natal depression.

After another night with virtually no sleep, Debbie’s mood was no better the following day. Her brother was due in a few hours and she was absolutely dreading it. She still hadn’t forgiven him for the day he’d had a beer with Billy and earned her a bloody good hiding.

Debbie wasn’t in the mood to do anything, but forced herself to have a bath. The sight of herself in the cracked mirror did nothing to lighten her mood. She looked dreadful, and even though most of the baby weight had disappeared, still had rolls of fat around her middle, which looked disgusting.

She tried on her old Levi jeans, but they wouldn’t do up so she chucked on a pair of old black trackie bottoms and a baggy black T-shirt. Feeling frumpy and ugly, she applied some lipstick and eye shadow. The end result was awful. She felt even more hideous. As she was about to get changed once again, Charlie began screaming his head off. Time for his bottle. Feeling physically drained, she shuffled into the kitchen.

Debbie was just about to feed her son when the buzzer went. Unfortunately for her, Mickey had arrived half an hour early. She felt like tearing her hair out as she laid Charlie back in his cot and answered the door. As if things couldn’t get any worse, to her horror, not only was her brother standing there, but her mother was as well.

‘I told you I had a surprise for you,’ Mickey announced, not noticing her anguished expression. Laden with bags of presents for the baby, he dumped them all in the hallway and walked back towards the door. ‘I’ve gotta go down to the car, sis, to get his big present out. Have a chat with Mum for a minute, eh?’

Completely taken by surprise, Debbie went on to autopilot and offered her mother a cup of tea. Picking up screaming Charlie, she took him into the living room and thrust him towards his nan.

‘Meet your grandson, his name’s Charlie. Oh, and by the way, I must be a shit mother as he doesn’t stop fucking crying!’

Debbie stomped out into the kitchen and waited for the kettle to boil. She was gonna have her Mickey for this. Fucking cheek, bringing Mum round here without her say-so!

June Dawson sat down on the battered old sofa and tried to soothe the distressed child. As she studied him, she felt there was something unusual about him. She had expected to melt at the sight of her first born grandchild, but instead felt no maternal stirring whatsoever. Maybe it’s because its Billy’s child, she thought, noticing that the poor little mite had inherited his father’s rat-like features.

Looking around the living room, though, June understood the child’s misery. ‘Shit-hole’ did not even begin to describe this place. The furniture was threadbare, the curtains ill-fitting, and it didn’t look as if any housework had been done for weeks.

June smiled as her daughter brought in the tea. ‘He’s gorgeous, Debbie,’ she lied as she offered the child back to her. ‘So, apart from him crying, are you coping okay, love?’

Debbie took Charlie from her mother and looked defiantly into her eyes. ‘What are you really doing here, Mum? I thought you wanted nothing to do with us. Why the change of heart?’

June took a sip of her drink before answering. ‘Mickey asked me to come. I’ve been so worried about you and was desperate to make sure you were okay. You are my only daughter, Debs, and believe it or not, I love you very much.’

Debbie went straight on the defensive. ‘Don’t give me that old bollocks,’ she said, as she gently laid her son over her shoulder to rub his back. ‘I bet you love me so much, you haven’t even told Peter you’re coming to fucking see me.’

Unable to meet her daughter’s stare, June was saved from answering by Mickey returning with the most expensive buggy he’d been able to find.

‘What do you think, sis?’ he asked casually.

‘Thanks, Mick, it’s a beauty.’

He smiled. ‘Give us the little bruiser ’ere, I’m dying to meet him.’

As Mickey took Charlie into his arms he felt himself shudder. The situation reminded him of the episode of
Only Fools and Horses
when Rodney had first looked at Del boy’s kid. Difference was, the guy who played Rodney had been fucking acting! ‘He’s a belter, Debs,’ lied Mickey. Desperate to get rid of the child, he handed him over to June. ‘Go see Nana,’ he said in a silly voice.

As Debbie watched her son bond with his family, she felt her mood lighten. Both granny and uncle were obviously besotted and she was overjoyed to see it.

* * *

Billy McDaid thanked his two punters, sat back on his barstool and sipped at his pint. He had his shitty old workman’s clothes on today because he’d told Debs he had a few days’ graft on a building site. It wasn’t true, he’d just wanted to make a good impression, let her know he was trying hard to change. Selling a bit of gear was easy money for Billy and he was fucked if he was jacking it in. He needed the money now, anyway, what with three mouths to feed. What Debs didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and after a week or so he’d tell her there was no more work and he’d gone back to serving up, just to keep the wolf from the door.

Things had been going really well since she had come home from hospital and he found he was thoroughly enjoying being a father. Obviously with babies you were limited as to what you could do with them, and secretly he couldn’t wait until Charlie was that bit older. Billy was gagging to introduce his son round the local pubs, take him to football and do the whole father-and-son routine. He was over the moon that Debbie had decided to give him another chance and was determined not to fuck it up this time. Since telling her about all the shit he’d endured in his childhood, he felt as if he’d unloaded some of his problems, shared the burden. Although his past would never go away, he felt that by offloading himself to Debs he had brought them closer together. At least now she could finally understand him as a person.