Living With Evil (16 page)

When he reached out to grab me, I had to bite my own hand to stifle my sobs. I didn’t want to wake the little ones, and I was scared what Mammy might do if I made a row. The pain felt worse than ever, though I didn’t know how that was possible. This time it felt like it went on and on, for an hour or more. I thought I would die of exhaustion and agony, and I cried with relief when, at last, Daddy pushed me away from him like a soiled rag.

Uncle Frank came round the next day. When I saw his fat face appear round the living-room door, my heart sank like a stone. Mammy had invited him round while Daddy was out, and I was terrified of what would happen if he found out.

‘Go and sit on Uncle Frank’s lap!’ Mammy ordered me. I looked at him and winced. He was a baker, and had made me a cake for my birthday once, the only birthday cake I’d ever had. I didn’t want to be rude, so I sat on his lap.

I noticed dribble running down his chin, and it reminded me of how Daddy’s ‘friend’ had licked his lips when I sang ‘Scarlet Ribbons’. Something bad was going to happen. I just knew it. ‘Give your Uncle Frank a kiss,’ Mammy shouted across at me. ‘No,’ I said, shaking my head, feeling shy and awkward. I hated being on his flabby lap. It made me feel sick. ‘I’ll give you ten shillings!’ Uncle Frank grinned.

‘Go on, Cynthia!’ Mammy urged. ‘Ten whole shillings! What’s the matter with you? Give your Uncle Frank a nice big kiss now.’ I wanted to get off his lap, so I went to give him a quick peck, but Uncle Frank’s face suddenly seemed to close in.

His sweaty cheeks rubbed against mine, the saliva on his chin was rubbing on my chin, and his wet lips were pushing on to my mouth. I squirmed and tried to gasp for breath, but as I opened my lips Uncle Frank put his tongue inside my mouth. I was shocked by how big and fat and slimy it felt. It was disgusting, and I ran away as soon as his grip on me softened.

I complained to Mammy bitterly afterwards. ‘Shut up complainin’, Cynthia,’ she said. ‘You’re such an ungrateful bitch. Just do it without moaning next time, and take his money.’

Around this time, I was getting into pop music. My older sisters liked it too, so I didn’t have much choice but to listen to what they played. I loved dancing to jive and anything by the Beatles or the Rolling Stones. Sometimes, when Mammy had had plenty to drink, I was allowed to put on records late at night and sing and dance around the room.

On the odd occasion she was in a good enough mood, Mammy sat in her rocking chair by the coal fire watching me, and one night she suggested that I strip off my jumper to cool down, because the fire was blazing and I was rosy-cheeked.

The music was blaring, Mammy was drinking and I was dancing wildly. It was great not to think about anything but the beat of the music for a change. Mammy was laughing, and even clapping in time now and again. The atmosphere was good and I was really enjoying myself for once.

My woollen jumper was cast aside, but I was still burning hot. The fire was roaring fiercely. I hadn’t seen that much coal on it since Christmas.

‘Take off another layer!’ Mammy said, over and over again, until in the end I was dancing in my thin vest.

Then she got up, drew the curtains wide and threw open the window. I hadn’t seen her let in any fresh air and light like that for years, and I watched her curiously, feeling a little wary.

Suddenly, I let out a shriek. There was a shadowy face at the window!

‘Mammy! There’s somebody out there!’ I screamed.

She made a huge drama out of going out to investigate, and when she didn’t come back for ages, something made me follow her. It wasn’t like Mammy to dart about, and she hardly ever went outside. I knew she was up to something.

As I tiptoed out through the back door, I spotted her talking furtively to my Uncle Frank behind the coal shed. She had a bottle of sherry in her hand, and he had a wide smile on his slimy lips.

Had he been outside the whole time I was prancing around in my vest? Was that why Mammy had encouraged me to have fun, dancing around? Was that why she had put so much coal on the fire, so I would be so hot I would have to strip off?

I was seething, and decided I would be brave and tell Daddy when I got the chance. I knew he had banned Uncle Frank from the house. I was going to tell him he had been prowling round in the garden. If Mammy beat me, I would just accept it. It would be a small price to pay to get rid of Uncle Frank once and for all.

I don’t know what happened between Mammy and Daddy after I muttered to him nervously one night about Uncle Frank in the garden, but Mammy thumped me on the ear very hard one day without warning.

‘Nosy little bitch!’ she called me. Every time the pain rang in my ear, which it did for several days, I told myself it was worth it if Uncle Frank was banished from our house for good and I never had to kiss him ever again.

The following Sunday, while Daddy slept in, Mammy came downstairs and announced that Uncle Frank and Aunt Mag had invited me for Sunday dinner at their home.

‘Get yourself ready, Cynthia. They’ll be here to collect you soon,’ Mammy said coldly. ‘Be a good girl and do as Uncle Frank asks you, d’you hear?’

My heart sank and my stomach started to knot with nerves.

Mammy rarely let me inside anyone’s house apart from Granny’s. What was going on?

I didn’t like Aunt Mag much. She was a frosty-faced woman who always appeared to be looking down her nose at me. But at least I wouldn’t be alone with Uncle Frank, and she wouldn’t make me kiss her husband, would she?

The short journey to their house was a blur. All I could think of was what excuse I would give if Uncle Frank asked me to sit on his knee. Perhaps I could say I felt sick or had a headache, or that I had a nasty sore throat or an ulcer on my tongue?

‘Come in, Cynthia!’ Aunt Mag sang as we got to the front door. ‘We’ve got mutton stew for dinner!’

It smelled foul, but I gave a polite smile. She hadn’t drained the fat off the top, and the greasy meat made me want to gag as it slid down my throat.

‘Eat up every mouthful, Cynthia,’ Aunt Mag warned me sternly.

While I sat there forcing each forkful down my throat, Aunt Mag suddenly vanished from the table. My tummy lurched with fear. I was alone with Uncle Frank, and he had greasy dribble on his chin.

The mutton started to churn in my belly. I realized I really was going to be sick, and I asked if I could go to the toilet, where I immediately vomited up the contents of my stomach.

I hoped now I had finished the dinner I would be able to go home. But where was Aunt Mag?

‘Come into the bedroom, you two,’ her shrill voice rang out. ‘I’m waiting!’

My senses flicked to red alert in an instant. She sounded weird. Why would we go into their bedroom? Frank was ushering me through the bedroom door now, and as I focused on the scene in front of me the blood drained from my face.

Aunt Mag was in the bed. My head swam. The grease on my throat felt like thick slime that was choking me. Then Uncle Frank was in the bed too. They had no clothes on. I could see white flesh. There was naked, flabby skin everywhere. They pulled me into the bed, both laughing.

I saw Uncle Frank’s big slimy tongue again. I felt their skin touch my skin, and I saw Aunt Mag touch Uncle Frank, her hands moving quickly over his body.

I cried and retched while they cackled and sniggered. They didn’t seem to see my tears at all. They carried on and on until they both seemed to be deliriously happy.

I was crying and trembling when Uncle Frank took me home. Daddy had gone out, so I didn’t need to explain where I’d been.

‘I hope you behaved yourself,’ was all Mammy said as I fell in the door. My eyes were dead. I couldn’t speak. ‘Thanks for the sherry, Frank!’ Mammy called out. ‘Same time next week?’

The slam of the door made my head bang and sharpened my numbed senses a little. Surely I wouldn’t have to go again?

I sat on the cold lino of the kitchen floor in silence for hours, feeling stunned and sickened. At last I summoned up the energy and courage to speak. There was no way I could face that ordeal again. I had to say something.

‘Mammy, I beg you,’ I sobbed. ‘Please don’t make me go back next week. I didn’t like it at all! Please don’t, Mammy.’

I got no response other than, ‘Didn’t I tell you to shut up complainin’? Why are you always so awkward?’

I was so afraid I even begged Daddy later, not knowing what sort of trouble that might cause. But to my dismay he didn’t seem bothered one bit. ‘As long as he doesn’t come in this house, I’m not interested!’ he bellowed.

So, the following Sunday, I was forced to go though the whole terrifying torture again, only it was worse this time because I knew what to expect, or at least I thought I did.

This time they played games with my mind as well as my body.

I asked for a piece of bread to help me swallow down the lumps of mutton, but Aunt Mag flew into a rage that seemed to come from nowhere. ‘You greedy cow - are you saying you’re not full?’ she yelled. Then she offered me more stew! Was I meant to refuse or accept it? I guessed I should refuse, because she wanted me to be full, but that wasn’t right either.

‘How dare you turn your nose up, you little bitch.’

After lunch, instead of taking me straight to the bedroom, they said they wanted to show me their collection of dolls. My eyes were watering just looking at them, they were so beautiful. I’d never seen so many in my life. For a few precious seconds, the fear I carried round with me most of the time subsided and I reached out my hand to pick one up.

‘Don’t you dare touch!’ Aunt Mag exclaimed.

Uncle Frank started laughing loudly now, delighting in my shocked expression. ‘Don’t even think about touching them, you little cow! Bedroom - now!’ he ordered.

I started to sob and wail uncontrollably. Through my tears, I could see pretty flowers on the wallpaper and shiny, polished furniture and mirrors lining the walls.

I wondered how anyone who had such a lovely, neat house could be so dirty and wicked. I shut my eyes so I couldn’t see their bodies and their creepy smiles, but try as I might I couldn’t shut off my other senses.

I didn’t want to hear their breathing and panting or their craven laughter. I didn’t want to feel their rough, doughy skin against mine. I didn’t want to smell Aunt Mag’s sickly-sweet perfume or Uncle Frank’s stale, sweaty armpits, and I didn’t want to taste their pungent breath in my mouth. But I didn’t have a choice. I was in bed with them again, and I was their slave.

When I got home that night I felt sick and bruised, and I moved around like a little robot, obeying Mammy’s commands and counting the minutes until I could fall asleep and shut down completely. I had hours to wait until Daddy got into bed and hurt me again, and only after that could I relax enough to fall into a fitful sleep.

The next day, after school, Mammy sent me to run up the road because Uncle Frank had something for her.

My heart was in my mouth when I saw him standing there. I had no idea what he might do to me, but to my surprise he smiled broadly and handed me a bottle of sherry and a big white tub for Mammy.

I grabbed them off him quickly, said a polite ‘Thank you, Uncle Frank,’ and ran home as fast as I could, the contents of the white tub rattling like Smarties in a tube.

I ran down the road past Granny’s front door and, to my horror, Aunt Ann was standing on the doorstep with a full mop bucket in her hand.

I was frightened of Aunt Ann. She was a spinster with a twisted face, and she always scowled at me. She shared Granny’s house and, when Granny was in, which was most of the time, she just ignored me, but if she saw me on my own she always had a go at me.

A few weeks earlier, she had thrown a bucket of dirty water over me on my way home from school for no reason at all.

If she ever walked past me in the street by chance, she called me a ‘little whore’ or a ‘little bitch’ and walloped me with her bag.

Daddy had had fights with Mammy about the way her sister treated me. I’d heard him warn Mammy to get the ‘old bitch’ to leave me alone. But Mammy always defended ‘poor Aunt Ann’ and told Daddy I had been cheeky and deserved what she gave me.

I froze when I saw the bucket, but Aunt Ann didn’t throw it. She said, ‘See you next week!’ in a threatening voice that made my spine tense. What was happening next week?

Mammy explained that Granny was going into hospital, and I was to stay with Aunt Ann to keep her company.

I didn’t know what to think. It meant I would be away from Daddy and I could go to sleep without worrying about what he might do to me in bed, and without listening to Mammy and Daddy fighting. I wouldn’t wake up itching with that rash on the back of my neck that Daddy seemed to give me. But how would Aunt Ann treat me?

I was very nervous, but I told myself it couldn’t be worse than being at home. Aunt Ann was older than Mammy. I didn’t think she could do me too much harm. I’d heard all her insults before. If I could avoid getting a soaking from her dirty mop bucket I’d be all right. I’d survive.