Strange Sally Diamond(28)

I went to the pile of clothes that Dad had laid out on the single chair beside my bed and found my pyjamas.

‘Do you need any help getting undressed?’ she asked.

I ignored her and took off my clothes. I looked at my watch. The small hand was between seven and eight. I was late for bed.

‘Oh, you have a watch! What time is it?’

‘Bedtime.’ It was twenty-five past seven. I had just learned to tell the time and I wanted to show off, but there was no point in showing off to somebody as stupid as her. Dad was a bit fed up of me showing off. He said I didn’t have to tell him the time every five minutes.

‘Okay.’

‘I need to brush my teeth.’ I passed her to get to the toilet and, this time, I closed the door.

I did another wee and brushed my teeth. There was no mirror here and one thin towel. When I opened the door, she was kneeling in front of it. She had her arms stretched out wide. I tried to jump past her, but she quickly wrapped her arms around me, pushing her face down on to my head and kissing it. I struggled violently.

‘Let me go, let go of me!’

‘I love you so much, I can’t help it. I thought I heard you through the door sometimes, but he’s put up all this insulation on the walls and I didn’t know if it was my imagination. He never told me anything about you. He said if I tried to talk to you through the wall, he would punish you. I’m so glad you’re here.’ Her arms tightened and I screamed into her armpit.

She released me then and I ran to my corner.

‘I’m sorry, Peter, I’m so sorry. I just wanted to hold you for a moment.’

‘I’m telling Dad. He’s going to punish you so badly.’

‘I need –’

‘I don’t care. Shut up. Don’t say anything else. You’re bad and you’re mean.’

I got into the camp bed and turned the lamp off.

I was afraid to go to sleep, but I must have been tired, because I woke to see faint shafts of light coming through the boarded windows. I didn’t know where I was for a moment, but then the horror of it all came back to me. I switched on the bedside lamp and saw that she was as close to me as she could get, staring at me again.

‘Peter? I’m sorry. Can we please start again? I’m so sorry.’

‘I’m hungry.’

‘Let me get you some cornflakes?’

I looked to the shelf above the fridge. The chocolate was gone. I was saving it for that evening, as Dad had instructed. The loaf of bread was half eaten too. The banana was missing. And there was only half a carrot left.

‘You ate my food! You ate my chocolate.’

‘I did. I had to. Can’t you see? He starves me here. There’s still enough for your dinner.’

I said nothing, but I put on my clothes quickly and tied my shoelaces, before I went over and kicked her as hard as I could with my leather shoes, repeatedly, in the face, in the head, in her fat belly. She rolled herself into a ball, whimpering and crying. Dad was right. She knew I was in charge now. She didn’t try to talk to me again for ages. She got under her blanket and sobbed there, and every so often she would cry out in pain.

I shouted at her to shut up.

I got my own cornflakes and sat on my camp bed. I tried not to cry. I wanted my dad. I hated the ghost. I rattled at the door and looked at where the window had been. There was no glass in it. Just planks of wood. I could see chinks of light coming through but could not see the garden. I read my book and played with my matchbox cars and tried to forget where I was. I missed television. I wondered if Dad had sent me here as punishment. But what had I done to deserve it?





21


Sally


On Christmas Day, I got up early and lit the fire in the sitting room. Our Christmas Days after Mum died were usually the same: a turkey lunch, mostly prepared by me. I would drink a glass or three of red wine, which made me feel warm and giddy and then sleepy. We ate in front of the television because there was so much to watch. We both liked Raiders of the Lost Ark and that was on most years on some channel. Indiana Jones was handsome and when I thought hard about him, I felt a tingle in my knickers. I asked Dad what that meant, and he said it meant that I was heterosexual, theoretically.

On this first Christmas morning without Dad, an old Abbott and Costello film was on TV. I had my tea and toast in front of the television. Dad used to laugh out loud at these films and I would join in laughing even though I found the antics of the two men stupid, but Dad liked it when I laughed. Sometimes I laughed spontaneously. There used to be a show called You’ve Been Framed and it was full of short videos of people falling over in stupid ways and hurting themselves. That was funny.

But I realized nothing was funny when you watched it on your own.

At 11 a.m., the phone rang. It was Nadine. ‘You were invited for Christmas lunch and the invitation still stands, but if you ever hurt Angela again, I’ll hit you so hard that you won’t know what day it is.’

‘I think that’s fair,’ I said.

‘And another thing,’ she said. ‘That stupid teddy bear is not to be mentioned in this house.’

‘Okay.’

‘Can you be here in half an hour?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

When Nadine answered the door, I put my hand out to shake hers, and she took it and I shook very firmly to show I meant I was very sorry indeed.