Unworthy

UNWORTHY

BY

Elaine May

DEDICATION

Ben, I love you now and forever thank you for always being there for me and being

My greatest support and friend.

To my girls, Mummy loves you both so much, you’ve made my life complete.

To my little family, thank-you for letting me do this and giving me your patience and love

I couldn’t have started this journey without you.

PROLOGUE

GRACE 

     The man and lady of the house my Mummy works in, are screaming at each other and it’s really scary. I can’t remember their names, I’m sure it starts with a big H, but normally they are really nice to me and Mummy, but today is different and I don’t know why.

Mummy and I are downstairs and we can hear every word that is being said between the two of them.

I look over at Mummy and her cold blue eyes that once told me she loved me, now tell me something completely different. They tell me everything she won’t say to me, even though I don’t want it to be true.

     “This is all your fault.” I jump at the scary sound above me that sounds like something special is breaking.

     “You can tell your British slut to get out of my house.”

     “She has nowhere else to go, darling.”

     “Don’t you dare darling me, you bastard.” I can hear something else break above and the man says a naughty word. I look over at Mummy and attempt to move towards her for a cuddle, but she walks away from me just as I hear the lady continue shouting.

     “You know what? I don’t care about the business over here. You can tell Edward we are moving back to America. I don’t care about that slut and her little bastard.”

     All of a sudden the picture changes before me and my adult self is flying through the town I grew up in and I can see my whole childhood before me. All the nasty words my mother or stepfather ever said to me. The slaps to the face my mother loved to give me when she felt I’d done something wrong.

     “This is all your fault.”

     “You worthless piece of shit.”

     “I hate you, we hate you. Even your father couldn’t stand to be near you.”

     “He left us, because of you.”

     “We live like this, because of you. YOU, GRACE.”

     “You won’t amount to anything, you’re useless.”

     “I wish I never had you, I hate you and you’re worthless.”

I can feel all the hatred centered in on that little girl and I can feel all the tears she doesn’t show as she grows into the teenager who hates and loathes herself so much. I can see my teenage self standing by the edge of  the River Tone just before its cold waters engulf me, drowning me and pulling me down to its depths with my own self-hatred  and sorrow. I try to reach the water’s surface, but the cold water is keeping me down, engulfing me with the old memories that still haunt me.

     “You’re worthless.”

     “You won’t amount to anything.”

CHAPTER ONE

GRACE

I wake to the sound of my mobile telling me it’s the start of another day.

Another day, another pound in the bank.

Different day, same shit though.

That’s my life in a nutshell, the story of my little life, but I am trying to change it. I will change it. I had the same dream again.

I have no idea why I have the same dream every night, but every night it’s the same and every morning it awakens all the fears I have tried so hard to forget. All the hatred and self-loathing that are always there, haunting and consuming me, engulfing me within my own darkness. Without even realizing I’m doing it, I reach for the elastic band around my right wrist and begin my ritual of pulling and releasing it against my skin. The pain as the band smacks at my skin helps to lessen the self-hatred, and knowing I have it there helps me get through the days.

     I have no idea why the same dream happens every night, I don’t even know if half of it is true, all I know is that the feelings I remember are still very much real and it’s a battle every day to control them, but over the last few years I have become quite good at hiding behind the act I allow myself to show the world. Ever since I can remember I have always wanted to better my life, prove my mother wrong, that all she has ever said to me were untruths,  that I can amount to something even though in my mother’s own words I am worthless and come from nothing. That’s why I live the life I do now, the thought of becoming more than my mother ever thought I could has overridden the never-ending thoughts of ending it all.

     With a sigh I get my big butt out of bed and have a stretch while I look around my small home. I can’t really call it a home considering its just one large room with a side kitchen and a bed in the middle. There is a bathroom to the side and a small walk-in wardrobe, but that’s it. I have managed to make it as homely as possible, but it still feels like a room. The walls have old wallpaper which has been painted beige, but after the years looks more like an old rusty color. In the corner you can see where the paper is coming away from the wall. I have bleached the kitchen area and bathroom till my hands ache, but I can’t get rid of the dirt that is stuck to the units and the black rims around the plugholes. I hate it here, but it’s better than I’m used to. This is all I can afford, and to be honest I have never really felt like I have had a home so it really doesn’t matter. That is why I work so hard and I must be the only human alive who willingly goes into work on a Saturday. The other alternative is too hard on my already-sensitive emotions.

     I have my lukewarm shower and dress into my dark trousers with a pale shirt. If I go for pale it seems that my fuller breasts go a little more unnoticed, rather than if I wore something bright. I tie my shoulder-length, mousey brown hair up into a ponytail and add a touch of mascara along with some tinted lip balm to my lips. I don’t bother with anything else; I’d rather not stand out. Hide in the shadows, that’s what I like to do and I do a rather good job of it if my list of friends is anything to go by - none. I have no friends, but in a way that’s how I prefer it. Hence the reason why I am going into work on a Saturday, when other women my age are probably out shopping, spending money on things they can’t afford. I would love to be more like them, but they have not had the same upbringing as me and in reality this is all I know how to be. I had too much attention thrown my way at home as a child so when I was at school it was easier to just be invisible, that way I didn’t get any attention. I could just get into my school work and hopefully work out a way to better my life. I have managed to do it and I’m proud of myself. I still have a long way to go, but I am getting there.

     So that’s why on this cold morning, I am walking through the busy streets of London to my job at Harding Inc. I don’t know why, but that name has always meant something, as has the world of business. That name pops up in my dreams, but to be honest I think it’s just that I work for the biggest company in the world that bears that name. After I had finished school I managed to enroll in the local college and do a business-related course, but if I’d wanted to go any further I would have had to go to University and that is something I could not afford. I looked into other options and that was when I found out about the internship program at Harding Inc., London. Long story short, I applied and got the position and moved from my family town in Somerset to the big city of London.

      I round the corner just past Parliament and I see the grand building of Harding Inc. The structure of the building is amazing, and the inside is even better. Steel and glass cover the outside and inside everything is very posh. I have a meager position which happens to be very important, it just goes unseen. I attend meetings, write up reports, sort out files - you name it and I bet you, I do it.

     I step inside the building and the security guard gives me a nod of the head. I am in most Saturdays so this visit doesn’t seem to faze him. I swipe my security card to get the lift and it arrives with a ping. As I step inside I still find it hard to believe how grand even the elevator is. The walls are painted a light brown, but there is gold paint around the top of the wall and around the edge of the doors. The mirror on the wall opposite the doors is unforgiving as it reminds me that I still need to lose weight. I wouldn’t say I am fat, I’m only a size ten - possible twelve depending on the store - and have curves in all the right places, but I happen to be one of the largest members of female staff here or that’s what my eyes tell me every time I see a female colleague. Being this size, though, helps me to be invisible.  No-one will look at the largest girl who is working herself up and does all the crappie jobs. That is what my job involves - I just do the jobs that no-one else wants to do, but I am working myself up the ladder and learning so much. It’s a slow process, but I am only twenty-three so I have time on my side. 

     Apart from the fact I spend most Saturday mornings here getting things ready for the week ahead, the main reason I am here today is that we have a visitor arriving on Monday. The company is run by two unrelated by blood American brothers that were both adopted by the same family, each had their own family, but only one had a son. There was a big meeting Friday afternoon to say that the son is getting groomed to take over and he is spending the next two months here in London. My job is to prepare an office for him so he is out of the way.  Someone has already left a desk and chair outside the room which is to be the boss man’s office, it’s my job to get it in there and sort everything else out.

     I spend four hours getting everything ready, the office looks clean and tidy, he wanted some reports waiting for him when he arrives on Monday morning, and they are now sat there waiting for him. He has an amazing view of London from his window and his office must be the largest we have. There is a bathroom and closet as well. Why this man needs so much is beyond me, but the powers that be think this guy needs it, that’s what they have given to him and I have sorted it out. With everything done I get ready to leave for home to take a nap before I start my other job. I swipe my card again so the bosses know what I am doing and wait for the lift. It arrives and I step in, thinking about tonight and how packed it will be. At least when it’s packed I should get good tips and the time goes by quicker.

Six hours later I am behind the bar of my second job.

     It happens to be the hottest night club in the city, with female employees happy to strip for the punters.  I am not one of those girls, I like to work behind the safety of the bar, where I only have to show a little of my ample chest in the ridiculous outfit my other boss calls a uniform. It consists of a red boob-tube that literally only covers my boobs, with a red skirt that just covers over my bum. The black heels I wear kill my feet, but it must be said that they do wonderful things to my legs. I don’t generally like what I see in the mirror, but in this stupid outfit and made up to the nines even I look somewhat hot.