raped her before and might have raped her again. Titch felt her chin begin to wobble at the thought of what might have been, and for the record she’d now lost, and the peace of mind that had been destroyed, and she fought to hold back a fresh bout of tears. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction, the bastard.
‘Hey,’ said Carol, obviously seeing her face going. ‘Count yourself lucky anyway, mate. Least you haven’t got tits to grope, like I have.’ Then she mimed it, squeezing both of hers and grinning, at which Josie, sniffing back the torrent, at least managed a wan smile.
‘I can’t tell Vinnie,’ she said. ‘For one thing mam’s still not paid the bloody phone bill, and for another thing, he’d go completely mental – completely mental – and he’d end up being banged up for another God knows how many months, just when he’s about to come home. No, Caz, I want him back and I’m not going to do anything that might make him do something that’ll stop that happening.’
Carol shrugged. ‘Fair enough. Got to tell someone though, haven’t you? Hey, there’s a thought,’ she said. ‘What about your Lyndsey? Maybe she’d know best what to do. Maybe she could send her Robbo round to put the frighteners on him even. Or maybe tell your mam for you? Something, anyway.’ She drained her pop and banged her empty glass down on the kitchen table then, startling Josie. ‘Men, eh?’ she said, rolling her eyes.
The record, it turned out, was unbroken. Josie had told Caz all about it and how she knew she’d never see it again, but when she walked round to meet her down behind the youthy on the Saturday, it was to see her friend brandishing something in the air; something that resolved itself into something recognisably slim and square, Caz’s expression confirming it was what she hoped it was.
‘I don’t believe it!’ Josie exclaimed, as Caz passed the record to her.
‘It’s not broke or owt, either,’ she confirmed.
‘But how d’you –’
‘I walked that way and saw it,’ Caz said as they headed round the front to see who was hanging out. ‘After you’d gone, Black Bobby and my mam started up all over again, so I decided I’d get out of there and take Blue out for a walk.’
Josie pulled the record out of the sleeve. Caz was right. It didn’t look like it had come to any harm. It felt like a miracle. ‘Where was it?’
‘Just on the pavement, down from yours – it was just lying there. No sign of Melvin. His lights were all off. And he obviously hadn’t seen it. Well, no one must have, must they? I thought about dropping it round then but I didn’t like to come and knock. Not with Blue with me and with your mam and dad maybe home from the Bull. I didn’t play it,’ she added. ‘Promise.’
‘Oh, Caz, you should’ve!’
Carol shook her head. ‘No I shouldn’t. Not before you. But you could come round to mine and play it now, if you want to. And Titch,’ she said looking at Josie hard. ‘have you told your Lyndsey yet?’
Josie looked at the record. She was glad she had it back, but she suddenly wasn’t sure she did want to play it now. It felt tainted; like she’d never be able to look at it without remembering. And that made her angry. Angry with that bastard Melvin. But most of all with herself. No, this time she was telling. For definite.
‘No,’ she said. ‘But I’m going to. Swear on my life, Caz. That sicko’s not going to get away with it a second time.’
Josie spent the rest of the day brooding on it. On the one hand, she desperately wanted to tell someone who might be able to do something; on the other, the same feelings of fear and shame kept ambushing her as last time. She hated trouble and knew that this had trouble written all over it.
She needed to wait though. To time things so she’d get her sister on her own, because the one thing she didn’t want was for that idiot Robbo to start poking his nose in. He was an idiot druggy and you never knew what he might do if he found out. Most of all though, he had a big mouth and the one thing she felt sure of was that if he knew, the whole estate would too.
So she’d wait. She’d wait till she knew he wasn’t going to be in, or come barging in on them and start asking questions. And though she’d been up twice – once to get little Robbie down to see his nan, and once to take him back again – it wasn’t till the following Monday evening that the opportunity to get Lyndsey on her own finally presented itself.
It was tea-time and she was sitting in the lounge watching Crossroads, when she heard her mum call out something from the kitchen.
‘Did you want me, Mam?’ she called, and, when June didn’t answer, she got off the sofa and went in to see.
June was at the sink, with her back to her, scrubbing away at the collar on Jock’s one good white shirt. ‘Did you call me, Mam?’ Josie asked again.
June turned around, bar of Palmolive soap in hand, clearly surprised to see her standing there. ‘What? Oh – oh, no, love. I was just shouting at that gormless pillock out there.’ She nodded her head in the direction of the back yard.
‘What gormless pillock?’ Josie asked, joining her at the window and peering out. There was nothing and no one out there as far as she could see.
‘The gormless pillock who lives with your stupid sister,’ June told her. ‘He’s gone now. I just clocked him scampering over the backs like a bleeding ten-year-old. Pound to a penny he’ll be on the trot for some drugs or that bloody wacky baccy. Idiot …’
She turned back to the sink.
‘What d’you want him for?’ Josie asked, realising she might have found her moment.
‘Want him for? Nothing! Just wanted to let him know I’d seen him. He’s good for nothing, that one, and shifty with it.’ She turned around again. ‘Anyway, why’d you want to know?’
‘Oh, nothing. I just thought I’d pop up to our Lyndsey’s and see the kids while he’s out, that’s all.’
Her mother lifted her carefully painted brows and observed her. ‘What, now, you mean? In the middle of your precious Crossroads?’
Josie felt a guilty blush start. She didn’t miss a thing, her mam, that was for sure. ‘Yes,’ she said, trying to think on her feet. ‘I promised Robbie yesterday. He’s been doing me a painting and I told him I’d go round and pick it up. You know, and have a play, and that.’
‘What about your tea?’ June wanted to know. ‘I’m dishing up soon as I’ve done this. I thought taties, mince and cabbage was your favourite?’
‘It is, Mam,’ Josie said, once again feeling guilty, ‘but I won’t be long. Just leave mine in the oven, it’ll stay warm enough for me.’
‘Well, okay,’ said June. ‘But me and your dad are off up to the Bull for a couple as soon as he’s out of the bath and we’ve eaten, so we won’t be in when you get back. Don’t forget your tea, mind, or you’ll be getting it dished up tomorrow, okay?’
Josie grabbed her jacket from the back of the couch and slung it over her shoulder. ‘I won’t, Mam!’ she promised as she slammed the front door.
Josie ran the length of the few houses with her eyes fixed ahead of her, the horrible memories she’d worked so hard to bury over the years now fresh and sharp and ugly in her head. Bastard. Bastard. He was not going to get away with it again.
She went in via the front door to find her sister in the living room, sitting on the couch smoking, as per usual. She had Crossroads on too, though Josie could see she wasn’t really watching it. Just staring in the general direction of the telly. What was she thinking? What the fuck did drugs do to the