Our Vinnie (18 page)

Chapter 14

The record, it turned out, was unbroken. Josie had told Caz all about it and how she knew she’d never see it again, but when she walked round to meet her down behind the youthy on the Saturday, it was to see her friend brandishing something in the air; something that resolved itself into something recognisably slim and square, Caz’s expression confirming it was what she hoped it was.

‘I don’t believe it!’ Josie exclaimed, as Caz passed the record to her.

‘It’s not broke or owt, either,’ she confirmed.

‘But how d’you –’

‘I walked that way and saw it,’ Caz said as they headed round the front to see who was hanging out. ‘After you’d gone, Black Bobby and my mam started up all over again, so I decided I’d get out of there and take Blue out for a walk.’

Josie pulled the record out of the sleeve. Caz was right. It didn’t look like it had come to any harm. It felt like a miracle. ‘Where was it?’

‘Just on the pavement, down from yours – it was just lying there. No sign of Melvin. His lights were all off. And
he
obviously hadn’t seen it. Well, no one must have, must they? I thought about dropping it round then but I didn’t like to come and knock. Not with Blue with me and with your mam and dad maybe home from the Bull. I didn’t play it,’ she added. ‘Promise.’

‘Oh, Caz, you should’ve!’

Carol shook her head. ‘No I shouldn’t. Not before you. But you could come round to mine and play it now, if you want to. And Titch,’ she said looking at Josie hard. ‘have you told your Lyndsey yet?’

Josie looked at the record. She was glad she had it back, but she suddenly wasn’t sure she
did
want to play it now. It felt tainted; like she’d never be able to look at it without remembering. And that made her angry. Angry with that bastard Melvin. But most of all with herself. No, this time she
was
telling. For definite.

‘No,’ she said. ‘But I’m going to. Swear on my life, Caz. That sicko’s not going to get away with it a second time.’

Josie spent the rest of the day brooding on it. On the one hand, she desperately wanted to tell someone who might be able to do something; on the other, the same feelings of fear and shame kept ambushing her as last time. She hated trouble and knew that this had trouble written all over it.

She needed to wait though. To time things so she’d get her sister on her own, because the one thing she didn’t want was for that idiot Robbo to start poking his nose in. He was an idiot druggy and you never knew what he might do if he found out. Most of all though, he had a big mouth and the one thing she felt sure of was that if he knew, the whole estate would too.

So she’d wait. She’d wait till she knew he wasn’t going to be in, or come barging in on them and start asking questions. And though she’d been up twice – once to get little Robbie down to see his nan, and once to take him back again – it wasn’t till the following Monday evening that the opportunity to get Lyndsey on her own finally presented itself.

It was tea-time and she was sitting in the lounge watching
Crossroads
, when she heard her mum call out something from the kitchen.

‘Did you want me, Mam?’ she called, and, when June didn’t answer, she got off the sofa and went in to see.

June was at the sink, with her back to her, scrubbing away at the collar on Jock’s one good white shirt. ‘Did you call me, Mam?’ Josie asked again.

June turned around, bar of Palmolive soap in hand, clearly surprised to see her standing there. ‘What? Oh – oh, no, love. I was just shouting at that gormless pillock out there.’ She nodded her head in the direction of the back yard.

‘What gormless pillock?’ Josie asked, joining her at the window and peering out. There was nothing and no one out there as far as she could see.

‘The gormless pillock who lives with your stupid sister,’ June told her. ‘He’s gone now. I just clocked him scampering over the backs like a bleeding ten-year-old. Pound to a penny he’ll be on the trot for some drugs or that bloody wacky baccy.
Idiot
…’

She turned back to the sink.

‘What d’you want him for?’ Josie asked, realising she might have found her moment.

‘Want him for? Nothing! Just wanted to let him know I’d seen him. He’s good for nothing, that one, and shifty with it.’ She turned around again. ‘Anyway, why’d
you
want to know?’

‘Oh, nothing. I just thought I’d pop up to our Lyndsey’s and see the kids while he’s out, that’s all.’

Her mother lifted her carefully painted brows and observed her. ‘What,
now
, you mean? In the middle of your precious
Crossroads
?’

Josie felt a guilty blush start. She didn’t miss a thing, her mam, that was for sure. ‘Yes,’ she said, trying to think on her feet. ‘I promised Robbie yesterday. He’s been doing me a painting and I told him I’d go round and pick it up. You know, and have a play, and that.’

‘What about your tea?’ June wanted to know. ‘I’m dishing up soon as I’ve done this. I thought taties, mince and cabbage was your favourite?’

‘It is, Mam,’ Josie said, once again feeling guilty, ‘but I won’t be long. Just leave mine in the oven, it’ll stay warm enough for me.’

‘Well, okay,’ said June. ‘But me and your dad are off up to the Bull for a couple as soon as he’s out of the bath and we’ve eaten, so we won’t be in when you get back. Don’t forget your tea, mind, or you’ll be getting it dished up tomorrow, okay?’

Josie grabbed her jacket from the back of the couch and slung it over her shoulder. ‘I won’t, Mam!’ she promised as she slammed the front door.

Josie ran the length of the few houses with her eyes fixed ahead of her, the horrible memories she’d worked so hard to bury over the years now fresh and sharp and ugly in her head. Bastard.
Bastard
. He was
not
going to get away with it again.

She went in via the front door to find her sister in the living room, sitting on the couch smoking, as per usual. She had
Crossroads
on too, though Josie could see she wasn’t really watching it. Just staring in the general direction of the telly. What was she thinking? What the fuck did drugs do to the contents of a person’s head?

The girls were on the floor playing with an old catalogue and some pencils. But there was no sign of her nephew.

‘Hi Lynds,’ she said. ‘Where’s Robbie?’

‘Auntie Titch!’ the girls cried, pleased as usual to have someone round who might actually play with them. ‘Auntie Titch!’

Her sister looked up at her. And she didn’t look
that
stoned, thank goodness. Just tired. Which perhaps anyone would be with three nippers running around.

‘Off round at some kid’s from school,’ Lyndsey said, then looked at Josie more carefully. ‘You alright, mate?’ she asked. ‘You look like shit.’

‘Oh, Lynds,’ she said, glancing at her nieces, who were now headed towards her, arms outstretched. ‘I’ve got something I have to tell you. Something bad.’

‘Bad? In what way bad?’ Lyndsey asked, as Josie dropped down to give the girls a cuddle. ‘Upstairs, you two,’ she told them. ‘Go and play in your bedroom. Your Auntie Titch and I have things we’ve got to talk about. Go on – scoot.’

She scooped a couple of magazines onto the floor to clear a space, than patted the space next to her on the sofa she’d created. Josie duly sat down.

‘It’s Mucky Melvin,’ she began.

‘That old fucker?’ Lyndsey said mildly. ‘What about him?’

Josie swallowed. Where did she start? But almost as soon as she opened her mouth to answer, she found she didn’t need to think – it was as if her brain had long ago written the script, ready for the telling. She told Lyndsey everything, even though she hadn’t meant to. She was only going to tell about him grabbing her the previous Friday; about him pulling her into the alley, about losing the record, about telling Caz and what she’d said about Lyndsey being the one who’d know what to do. But once she started, it was as if she had no control over her own mouth. It seemed to come out like a torrent, with a mind of its own, and before she knew it she was telling Lyndsey how he’d lured her into his house with the promise of a ciggie, how he’d made her go upstairs to give him them and have a fag and then overpowered her, how he’d ripped down her pants and how he’d forced himself inside her – and all the while Lyndsey, probably a bit stoned because she generally was, sat and listened, her eyes widening to saucers as she drew on a tiny roll-up.

‘The filthy old cunt!’ she said finally, batting smoke from in front of her. At least it wasn’t that horrible sweet wacky baccy smoke, Josie thought. And at least she didn’t seem
that
stoned. Not yet. Her hands were shaking again, she realised, and she balled them into little fists. Would they shake every time she thought about it, always?

‘So you’re saying he
raped
you?’ Lyndsey went on. ‘That
fucking
pervert! You really mean that? That he stuck his fucking prick in you three
years
back?’

Josie nodded miserably. ‘It was just after our Vinnie left. Right after.’

Jesus!’ said Lyndsey. ‘That makes you – what – 11? God, that’s disgusting that is.
Jesus
! No, no – it’s more ’n that, actually. It’s
child
abuse, Titch. That’s what that is. That’s
molesting
you!
Jesus
!’ she said again, stabbing the end of the fag into the overflowing glass ashtray on the sofa arm. ‘Why the fuck did you never tell anyone about this?’

‘Because I
couldn’t
,’ Josie said plaintively. ‘Mam would’ve killed me!’

‘She fucking
would
, Titch – what were you thinking even going
in
there? How many times have you been told? Were you
mad
?’

‘Exactly! I just … I just …’

Just
what
? She wasn’t even sure she knew. She could hardly articulate it, even though the memory was still pin-sharp in her head. Would that it wasn’t, but it would always be. She was beginning to understand that. How she’d stomped off, feeling angry, feeling like everything was about Vinnie, feeling, somehow, like ‘sod it’, like she’d do what she liked. Was there even a part of her that wanted something bad to happen to her? Just so her mam would notice she was
there
?

Well she’d certainly got her wish. No doubt about it.

‘I know,’ she said now. ‘I know that
now
, Lynds.’

‘And now he’s back for seconds, is he? God, just you wait till I tell Robbo. He’ll kill the old fucking tramp.’

‘No!’ Josie cried out, ‘
No
, Lynds!’ Then, remembering the girls upstairs, she lowered her voice again. ‘No, Lynds,
no
. What’d you have to tell
him
for? I didn’t tell you because I wanted Robbo to know. That’s the
last
thing I want! I’m only telling you because you’re my sister, and I thought you might know what to do!’

Lyndsey shook her head and, in a rare gesture of physical warmth, grabbed one of Josie’s hands between her own. ‘Titch,’ she said, ‘that’s just it. I
do
know what to do. Have Rob go round there with me and help me punch his fucking lights out!’

‘No!’ Josie said again. ‘You mustn’t tell him, Lynds. You mustn’t! If you do that, then it’ll be all round the estate and I can’t bear that. And s’pose our Vinnie gets to hear of it once he’s home? He’d go apeshit! No, Lynds, you mustn’t tell Robbo!’

Lyndsey let Josie’s hand go and reached for her baccy tin. ‘Okay, okay!’ she said. ‘But what
do
you want to do then?’

Which was the problem. Had
always
been the problem, right from the first time. What
did
she want to happen now? She didn’t even know. She hadn’t thought past the business of unburdening herself – of just telling. Of not having to carry it all around any more.

‘I just thought – oh, I don’t know, Lynds – couldn’t you speak to the police or something? Have them go round there? You know – warn him off and that? Threaten him?’

Lyndsey snorted disgustedly. ‘The fucking bizzies? That’s the
last
thing we’d do, divvy! No, mate – trust me, if anyone’s going to threaten him it’s going to be me and Robbo.’

‘But I don’t want you to tell Robbo. You promised you wouldn’t tell Robbo!’

‘Titch, you’re not being sensible. Don’t you see, I’ve
got
to tell Robbo. Yeah, I could warn him off, but Robbo can
properly
warn him off, can’t he? No, that’s the way. We’ll put the frighteners on. We’ll sort everything out for you.’

‘But you won’t tell mam and dad?’

‘No, I won’t, Titch.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘No, let me think this through for a bit … No,’ she said at last. ‘No, you’re right. No point in telling them, is there?’

‘Promise?’

Lyndsey reached out and patted Josie’s forearm with her cold fingers. ‘I promise. Don’t you worry, kid, leave it with us. We’ll sort the bastard out for you. And don’t
you
be telling anyone else either, alright? You got that?’

Josie nodded. As if
she
was going to tell anyone anything about it! Why would her sister even
think
that?

‘I won’t,’ she said. ‘Not anyone. Only Caz knows, that’s all. And she’ll never, ever tell because we’re blood sisters.’

‘Good,’ Lyndsey said comfortingly, patting her for a second time. ‘Just forget about it now, okay? Don’t you worry. Mucky Melvin won’t be touching
you
again.’

‘But what are you gonna do?’ Josie wanted to know, still fearful about involving Robbo. He was so off his fucking head most of the time he might do anything.

‘We’re gonna make that bastard wish he’d never been born, mate,’ Lyndsey told her. ‘
I’m
going to make him wish that
so
much. It’ll be my pleasure. So don’t you worry about it. And if he ever tries to touch you – or even
speak
to you again – you just tell him to fuck off and that you’ll be speaking to
me
, okay?’