Sixty Seconds (5 page)

He
picked up the plate and threw it at the wall, barely missing her
head. Tiny broken chips flew at her, sticking in her hair. She held
up her head and watched him pass, annoyed rather than scared now.
That was a brand new plate.

“
Where were you until three in the morning, Shane?”

He
ignored her, not wanting to listen to her nagging if he told her
he’d been with some young one for the last few hours. Not that the
girl would want the word spread around either. The teasing bitch
had said no at the last minute but he couldn’t stop. Not when his
business was falling apart – debt up to his eyeballs now. All of
his assets were about to be liquidated just to pay some of the
creditors. Everything he worked for was turning to piss before his
eyes.

The idea
filled him with an impotent rage that boiled up and spewed over,
giving him heartburn. He turned back and punched Mags in the face.
Enough to hurt her, but not enough to send her to hospital. She
didn’t cry out, mores the pity, that always gave him a good excuse
to hit twice.

He
mumbled something under his breath and thought about the girl’s
cries of protest. He pictured her in Mags place, tried to get
himself going, but nothing happened. He roared, an incoherent roar,
and raised his fists in the air, looking all the world like an
ape.

Mags
stared at him, her chin trembling. Years and years of this shit, it
had gotten old a long time ago. The only thing keeping her around
was money and he hadn’t given her any of that in months, the greedy
bastard.

He
punched the wall and howled with pain when the resounding crack of
his knuckles reverberated throughout his body.

“
Fucking hell.” Tears burned his eyes. Fucking business. All
those years of hard work for nothing. He couldn’t even get a decent
dinner from the bitch.

“
You better not wake the kids with your noise.”

That
nagging woman again.

“
The kids, the kids! Always the fucking kids. They’re
not
my
fucking
kids! I don’t give two fucks if they wake up!”

He
pointed his finger right in her face. Her eyes crossed and she
batted his hand away. He pushed her to the floor and stalked away,
kicking the pregnant cat in the stomach. The cat yowled and fled
out an open window, leaving a few drops of blood in her
wake.

“
Leave my cat alone!”

Mags gasped in horror at her daughter’s scream.
No, baby, not now. Not when he’s in the height of
it.

Shane
was already leering in the girl’s direction. Thirteen years old.
Not his child. Fuck, why did she ever move in with such a monster.
Mags saw his fist curl and ran back into the kitchen, picking up a
knife, anything to threaten him with.

She got to him just as he lifted his arm to hit her precious
daughter.
Darling, darling, darling, so
sorry, so sorry, so sorry
. The knife slid
into his back – easier than she had expected. He gave a little
grunt and turned around slowly, so very slowly.

Ignoring
the wide eyes of her daughter, Mags sank the knife deep into
Shane’s chest – every punch, every kick, every bad word giving her
the strength. She had already been sick of him, he had to go and
push her too far. Well, fuck him. He should never have raised his
hand to her child. Not ever.

Shane’s
mouth widened into an O shape as he sank to the ground and gazed up
at her for a few seconds, unable to move.

“
That’ll teach you, you bastard.
I
win.
Me
.”

Blood
flowed, soaking her slippers ruby red. His last gasp was noisy, it
almost made her laugh. Almost.

She sat
down on the floor, edging away from the pool of blood, and looked
up at her daughter.

The girl
kicked Shane, hatred seeping from her pores, and nodded at her
mother. “Thanks, Ma.”

Janice
Malone unknotted her school tie and took a deep breath before she
turned over the pregnancy tests. All three of them. Just in
case.

Blue
cross. Smiley face. Double lines. Positive. All positive. No
mistake.

She
knocked them to the ground in her urgency to throw up in the
toilet. Nothing came up except a dry retching sound but it felt
like her insides had spewed out of her mouth.

Tears
came. Self pity. How unfair was it all? Raped by a scumbag. Ditched
by her best friend. And pregnant. Selina Davis was shagging a
different fella every weekend but Janice – the one everyone called
a frigid because she wouldn’t sleep around – was pregnant because
some old, fat bloke raped her.

Janice
imagined his evil DNA growing inside her, a black, cancerous toxin
spreading through her bloodstream, choking her organs, seeping from
her skin, infecting her baby. His baby.

Oh,
Jesus.

She dug her palms into her eye sockets and saw colours, pretty
ones, but not enough to distract her from her life ending. It was
all over. School, college, any hope of a job and getting out of the
shithole she lived in. And her ma. Janice’s stomach turned. Her ma
would kill her. Kick her out, probably. The one thing, the one
thing she’d
always
said – don’t come home with a baby.

But it
wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t, not really. She still had the faintest
shadow of a bruise from where he’d held her down. The bruises
lasted longer than she expected and the consequences would last
longest of all. How could she have a baby? His baby, worst of all.
An ugly, horrible man who plied her with drink and has until she
wasn’t capable of stringing a coherent sentence together. She said
no, though. Of everything, she remembered that. Who would believe
her though?

The
shame of it. The absolute horror. She hadn’t had a good night’s
sleep in the three months since it happened. She felt like she
never would. What was the point in living? Everything had gone to
hell. Solemn now, Janice made a decision and hurried around,
looking for pills and alcohol. Quickly, before her mother came home
from work.

She laid
out the pills on the floor of the bathroom. Who cared about germs?
She took a sip of vodka and shuddered as it burned her throat. It
brought back memories of the funeral, of the first time she’d drank
vodka straight, of the night Graeme Moore had forced himself on her
while she screamed in pain. The memory forced her to throw up, for
real this time. That was no good. The pills wouldn’t have an effect
if she puked them back up.

She took
deep breaths, steadied herself, forced the memories out of her
brain. She picked up a pill, swallowed, washed it down with vodka –
more of a pleasant heat this time. Janice looked at herself in the
mirror and liked how mournful her eyes looked, how grownup she
seemed holding the vodka. Black eyeliner streaked her cheeks and
she watched herself with a grim smile as she picked up more pills
to swallow.

She
played her favourite songs as loud as she could, and popped more
pills, half enjoying the drama, never really considering what it
meant to die. She only wanted to end the pain she was in. She only
wanted to end the trouble she was in.

Wendy
came home early and took the scene in. A split second to understand
– the pregnancy tests, the alcohol, the pills, her daughter’s
face.

Disappointed. That’s how her mother looked. A lump formed in
Janice’s throat and she couldn’t swallow any more, she choked on
vodka and sobbed. Vomited when Wendy reacted by sticking her
fingers down Janice’s throat and holding her over the
toilet.

Afterwards, when they had both cried and Janice’s stomach was
empty of tablets, she sucked her thumb while Wendy held her,
gathered her in her arms and let motherly love rush over
her.

“
I’m sorry, Ma. It wasn’t my fault, I swear. I said no,” Janice
whispered to her mother who held her tight.

“
I believe you, love. I believe you.”

For some
reason, that made Janice cry all the more. Her mother let her,
hoping all of her sorrow would release itself and fly
away.

“
Who was it?” she asked when Janice’s sobs quietened. “We’ll go
to the police, get him charged.”

“
We can’t. He’s a scumbag, Ma. He’ll kill us first, he promised
me that.”

“
Nobody’s above the law.” Wendy’s statement was firm but Janice
rolled her eyes.

“
It was Graeme Moore. You know about it, even the police are
scared of him.”

Wendy
let out a hiss. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll fix this. One way or
another.”

Janice
swallowed down her shame. “I thought you were going to kill
me.”

“
So you decided to save me the job? Don’t ever try anything
like that again, Janice. I mean it. Nothing’s worth
that.”

“
I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do. My life’s over.” Fresh
tears rolled down Janice’s cheeks.

“
It’s not over. It’s a baby, not a disease. There are lots of
women who would love to take that baby for you.”

Janice
thought of handing over a baby. “What kind of person gives away
their baby?”

Wendy
made Janice look her in the eye. “Listen to me. Smart people want
to give a child the best start. Sometimes that means sacrifice. You
could give someone the best gift ever, Janice. Imagine it that
way.”

“
What if it’s evil? It’s his. He was evil. What if it grows up
just like him?” Janice bit her lips, wanting it out of her before
it corrupted her.

“
It’s not evil. No baby is. Do you want to . . . get rid of
it?”

Janice
imagined his baby growing inside her. Imagined if nature was
stronger than nurture. “I don’t want it inside me,” she whispered.
“I can’t sleep knowing it’s in there. I can’t do it.”

Wendy
nodded, her mouth a tight, grim line. “We’ll go to England. Get it
sorted.”

“
Can we afford it?”

“
Of course, don’t you worry about that. I’ll take care of you.
Promise.” Wendy tried to sound cheerful but she hadn’t a clue how
she was going to come up with the money. She was barely making
enough to support them, never mind taking trips to England for an
abortion that wasn’t legal in Ireland.

She
kissed Janice’s cheek. “We’ll keep it a secret. Just you and me.
We’ll get through this. Then we’ll move. I swear to you, we’ll get
out of here. I’ll give you a future, even if it kills
me.”

Janice
relaxed against her mother and felt all of her worries float away
as her mother took control of the situation. They hadn’t been as
close in years. Graeme Moore thought he’d won but really, he’d
given her a gift – she had her mother back.

For the
first time in her life, Mary Thornton allowed her children to open
their presents before Christmas morning. If the experts were right,
and she suspected they were, the world wouldn’t make it that far.
Why waste the carefully wrapped presents?

For so
many years, she – and many others – had scoffed the rumours. There
was no denying it now. Earthquakes, tornadoes, freak landslides -
these were just some of the natural disasters happening on a daily
basis across the world. Major ones, ones that devastated millions
of people at a time. When Mary felt the ground tremble beneath her
all afternoon, she knew. It was almost time.

She
gathered her family around her. All teenagers now, but still, the
same care went into their gifts. They all embraced each other,
exchanged presents, even laughed and joked together. Nothing could
cut through the tension and nervousness when glasses of wine fell
over as the tremors increased in strength.

At three
in the afternoon, the world turned dark and the television stations
cut out. Mary’s youngest daughter had cried in her arms. Now they
waited. A lull in the air, except for the howls of neighbouring
dogs. The mournfulness of their cries scared Mary more than
anything else. At least she was with her family – better to die
with those you love than to die alone.

“
How do you think it’ll happen?” Her son’s voice cut through
the silence. Mary gasped at the question.

“
What kind of thing is that to say?” she said.

“
It’s gonna happen whether we talk about it or not, Ma. Might
as well chat while we’re waiting.”

The rest
of the family began to giggle, nerves making the situation
hysterical. Mary joined in and laughed until she cried, wiping the
tears away with shaky hands.

“
I think it’ll be soon,” her eldest daughter whispered,
grabbing her mother’s hand.

Mary
blessed herself, even though she hadn’t believed in God in a very
long time. “At least we’re together,” she said out loud, although
she wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince.

Her
husband gripped her shoulder and began to speak but a huge crack in
the floor silenced them all. The world seemed to break in half and
Mary felt her family drift away from her as she floated in the air.
Gravity reset itself and slammed Mary against the wall.