Born to Trouble (7 page)

Pearl put down her knife and fork; she suddenly had no appetite for the remainder of the food on her plate. Her mother always referred to her regulars by the first letter of their surnames – Mr T, Mr W, Mr A – but of the several or so men who called at the house on certain nights, it was only this one individual, Mr F, she was frightened of. If any of the others caught sight of her, they would often smile and say hello, and even toss her a coin or two and tell her to buy some sweets, but Mr F wasn’t like that. She shivered deep inside. He just stared at her with that funny look on his face, his eyes going all over her and making her feel she had to wash wherever they’d touched, as though they’d left a trail of slime like the slugs did.

‘I don’t like him,’ she said flatly.

‘Don’t start that again. You don’t know when you’re well off, that’s your trouble, madam.’ Kitty glared at her daughter, taking in the sunflushed cheeks and luminous eyes with their thick lashes. It seemed as though with every month that passed, Pearl got lovelier, and the dislike she had always felt for this flesh of her flesh verged on something stronger these days. ‘Get your backside off that chair,’ she went on, ‘an’ earn your keep – an’ you can change the sheets on the bed while you’re about it. Mr F likes clean sheets.’

As Pearl looked at Kitty, there came to her a strange thought. Her mother would have done what she did in the front room sooner but for marrying at sixteen, and she would have been happier. It was only her father, and then Seth, who had prevented her from going down this road years ago. There had been talk in the wash-house among their neighbours for months now – she’d heard them whispering when they thought she wasn’t listening or didn’t understand. But her understanding had been broadened considerably since Seth had gone. The neighbours thought her mother was a trollop, and Mrs Cook next door had said she’d got more time for the dockside dollies because at least they had the decency to keep their bairns out of it.

Slowly Pearl turned and went into the front room. The old three-quarter size iron bed the lodgers had used stood against one wall, the covers in a heap, and the horsehair sofa took up most of the remaining space. The floor was littered with empty gin and beer bottles and cigarette stubs, and it was stifling, the stale smell which was a composite of many things making her swallow hard. She hated this room.

She stripped the worn sheets from the bed, wrinkling her nose in distaste as her hand brushed against one of the patches of dried matter staining the bottom sheet in several places, and then gathered up the bottles and other large items of debris. That done, and the soiled sheets in soak, she began to clear the cigarette stubs and other bits and pieces with a dustpan and brush.

Quite when she became aware that she wasn’t alone she didn’t know, but a sixth sense had her flesh creeping even before she turned and saw the fat, greasy-looking figure of Mr F standing in the doorway. Quickly she straightened, her voice a stammer as she said, ‘I – I’m clear – clearing up.’

He nodded, his small dark eyes never leaving her face, and then for the first time in the twelve months or so since he had been visiting the house, Pearl heard him speak. ‘There’s a good little lassie,’ he said softly.

Pearl glanced at the unmade bed. The clean sheets she had fetched from the cupboard in her mother’s room were neatly folded on top of the mattress. Her mother would expect her to see to it before she left, but the thought of making the bed while this man watched her was mortifying. ‘I – I’ll see to the rest of it in – in a minute.’

He nodded again but continued to stand in the doorway. Pearl wondered where her mother was and why she hadn’t come to join him. Every sense in her body heightened and her face scarlet, she put the dustpan and brush to one side and approached the bed. This man was Kitty’s best payer, her mother had told her so before when she’d voiced her unease about him, clipping her across the ear for good measure. She had to be polite to him. Clearing her throat, she said, ‘My mother’s in the kitchen.’

‘I’m aware of that.’

Not knowing what to do, Pearl unfolded the bottom sheet. It had been dried outdoors and for a moment the elusive scent of fresh air reached her nostrils.

‘Let me help you with that.’ He shut the door as he spoke.

‘No, no – it’s all right.’ Panic uppermost, Pearl wondered if her mother knew he was here. Should she call her, or would she get into trouble? He was so near now she could smell the acrid odour of his sweat, but she didn’t dare look at him. Her hands trembling, she shook the sheet over the bed.

‘You’re a bonny little lassie but then you know that, don’t you?’ His voice had changed. It had become thick, excited. ‘Oh aye, you know it all right.’

Her terror increasing, Pearl mumbled, ‘My mam – she – she wants me to get the room sorted.’

‘Your mam wants you to please me. That’s what your mam wants.’

She opened her mouth to scream but his hand came hard over her lips. He was a big man, in stature as well as girth, and Pearl was slender for her years, her child’s body as yet showing no signs of puberty. When his free hand came out and grabbed her dress, heaving her onto the bed, she fell into the middle of it like a rag doll, her limbs sprawling. She tried to roll away but he slapped her so hard across the side of her head she saw stars, and then he was on top of her, tearing at her clothes as he stripped her, one hand again over her mouth.

She fought him but her wild flailing had no effect as he crouched on top of her, muttering obscenities. When he released the hand over her mouth in order to unbutton his trousers she wriggled backwards, falling off the bed and hitting the floor. The pain that shot from her coccyx was so acute she passed out for a few moments, regaining consciousness to find she was again on the bed and his full weight was on top of her. Then her body was rent in two, pain that was all-consuming causing her to scream and choke as she struggled to escape the thing ripping her apart. His hand came across her nose as well as her mouth, cutting off her air supply, and as she tried to bite at it he slapped her again.

She knew she was dying. The pain was so terrible she couldn’t bear it. And then he began groaning and shuddering, and the mad pounding lessened as he became still before rolling off her. She lay limp and helpless, the agony between her legs and in her belly causing her to shake uncontrollably.

‘You shouldn’t have fought me.’ The soft thick voice came to her but she didn’t open her eyes or speak, wanting only for him to be gone. ‘You made me hurt you by fighting me.’

When she felt the touch of his fingers on her inner thigh she jerked, her eyes opening involuntarily. He raised his hand to his mouth, sucking his fingers which were covered in red.

‘We’ll have some good times, you and me, and I can be generous, you’ll see.’ He stood up, buttoning his trousers before extracting some notes from his pocket which he threw on the bed beside her. ‘You wouldn’t get many who’d pay as much as that for a breaking-in – you ask your mam.’

Curling herself into a little ball and with the tears raining down her face, Pearl didn’t answer, terrified he would come at her again. It was only when he had left the room that she found the strength to pull the sheet round her, cocoon-fashion, the red stain between her legs vivid on the bleached linen.

Kitty raised her head as the kitchen door opened. She had been dozing in the armchair, the gin bottle at her elbow. ‘Well?’

Leonard Fallow looked at the woman he had forced himself to service for the last year, ever since he had caught sight of the daughter on his first visit to the house. He had been drunk that night or he would never have come back with Kitty in the first place. He liked them young, very young and fresh. All the things Kitty wasn’t. But his body had needed release and when he was in his cups, anything would do. And there had been the child. Like a rose on a dung heap. And he had known he had to have her.

But this old biddy had made him pay, and not just in the amount she had demanded for the breaking-in. She was wily enough to know that once he’d had the daughter, her own usefulness was over, and so she had made the most of delaying that time, using one excuse after another.

Straightening his jacket, he said, ‘It’s done.’

‘Put up much resistance, did she?’

‘A little.’ He didn’t intend to discuss the details and his tone reflected this.

‘Where’s me money?’

His voice cool, he said, ‘I left it with her.’

‘With
her
? You give it to me, all right? I take it you do want to come again?’

He let a small silence grow before he said, ‘Possibly,’ whilst knowing as well as she did that he’d be back within days.

‘Then in the future you give it to me.’

He nodded. He didn’t want to get on the wrong side of the mother, not now. He had one or two friends who would be very grateful for an introduction to the child, but he had intended to have his way with her first. It was better than any drug or drink, being the first.

‘You want to stay for a while?’ Kitty stood up, swaying slightly, as she gave him what she thought was a beguiling smile. ‘You can have it for free after what you’ve stumped up the night for the lass.’

Leonard looked at her lank hair, the creases in her neck lined with dirt and her pendulous breasts. Only the thought of having the child had enabled him to achieve the act in the past, and once or twice it had been beyond him. Using this, he said, ‘You know me, Kitty. Once is all I can manage, and sometimes not that.’

She stared at him. He didn’t fool her. She’d seen the way he looked at Pearl – fair licked his lips, he did. For a moment resentment burned, deep and bitter, and then she told herself it didn’t matter. Mr F had paid a small fortune for the lass tonight, and although she might not get that much again, her being broken in now, there would still be men who liked them young who would pay plenty.

‘I’ll be off then.’ Leonard picked up his hat and gloves from where he had left them on a kitchen chair on entering the house earlier. Even on the hottest day he wore gloves as his position in life demanded.

Kitty had sat down again, reaching for the gin bottle. ‘Aye, so long.’

Leonard had been gone some time before Kitty rose, draining the glass and smacking her lips. She hadn’t known how long Leonard would expect to stay and so she hadn’t arranged to meet Cissy or see another customer. Her thoughts on the money Leonard had left with Pearl, she opened the door to the front room. Her daughter was curled in the middle of the bed with the sheet round her, and in spite of the humid night Pearl was shivering convulsively.

Kitty looked at her with dispassionate eyes. ‘Get off there, you’ll stain the mattress,’ was all she said.

Pearl opened her eyes. ‘I hurt.’

‘Aye, we all hurt the first time, but you’ll live.’ She came closer to the bed and it was then she registered the amount of blood Pearl had lost. Damn that Leonard, she thought irritably. He’d clearly been brutal. She’d been hoping Pearl would be able to accommodate another punter she’d got in mind for her tomorrow, but if she was too badly torn he’d have to wait for a few more days. ‘Where’s my money?’ she said testily, before catching sight of a number of notes scattered on the floor where they had fluttered when Pearl had pulled the sheet round her.

She went down on her hands and knees and retrieved the notes, stuffing them in the pocket of her serge skirt as she stood up. ‘Did you hear me?’ she said to the small mound on the bed. ‘I said get up.’

Pearl sat up, blinking through swollen eyelids. ‘Did you know?’

‘Know?’

‘What he was going to do to me?’

Kitty put her hands on her hips. ‘’Course I knew. It had to happen some time or other, didn’t it? And far better we got a good price for it than you giving it away to some lad or other who took your eye in a few years. There’s some men who like bairns, that’s just the way of it, and once you’ve turned fifteen or sixteen they’ll lose interest.’ She turned away ‘There’s some warm water in the kettle. Clean yourself up and get to bed, and we’ll see if you’re fit to look after another gentleman I know tomorrow.’

Pearl was all eyes as she stared at her mother, her hair a cloud about her white face. The shock and anguish Kitty’s words had caused overrode everything, even the pain between her legs. ‘I – I can’t, Mam. I can’t. Please . . .’

Kitty turned at the door. ‘You can and you will, girl. Make no mistake about that.’

‘Please, Mam—’

Kitty inclined her head impatiently. ‘And none of your dramatics, they won’t wash with me.’ So saying, she opened the door and Pearl heard her footsteps going upstairs, and then the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing.

How long she sat there before she could find the strength to move Pearl didn’t know, but when she hitched herself off the bed still wrapped in the sheet and saw the red stain on the flock mattress, she gave a little whimper of distress. Her mam would go mad if she came down and saw that.

Stumbling about the room, she picked up her scattered clothes. She had to sit down for a while before she could dress herself; when the faintness receded she pulled her cotton dress over her head only to find every button had been ripped off the bodice. Her shift was torn beyond repair, as were her drawers.

Once in the kitchen, she filled a bowl with water and found the soap, returning to the front room and scrubbing at the mattress until the blood had dulled to a faint pink colour. The smell was in her nostrils but the odour of Mr F was worse, clinging to her so that every movement she made brought him wafting closer.

By the time she had emptied the bowl and filled it afresh with water to wash in, twilight had fallen. Taking off her dress, she stood in the shadowed kitchen and washed herself all over, scrubbing at her skin until it was red and sore. She could hardly bear to touch between her legs; when she dabbed at the area, her flesh stung so badly it brought tears streaming from her eyes and made her shake again. Tipping away the soapy water, she filled the bowl again and then sat down in it, hoping to ease the soreness.