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So would I get pregnant if I kissed a man? And would I be raped, as all men were rapists? However, Kevin and Mark holding me down, pulling down my knickers and looking at my bare body marked the beginning of a new, dreadful phase in my life. Kevin would touch me now whenever he could. He kept looking at my chest or touching my bottom. I was left very confused about everything to do with men and sex.
Although Kevin had his horrible friend Mark to the house when he wanted to, I wasn’t allowed to have anyone round. I didn’t really have friends at school, as I was usually picked on by Spencer and his gang, or by the nasty big girls. But one day I was invited to a girl’s house after school, and for the first time I went.
Maisie was very sweet and also liked doing art. She had a lovely house with a warm friendly mummy who set a table with cakes, milk and biscuits. I thought this was wonderful. Barbara had drilled me in what I had to say: I had to be polite, and not behave like the little bitch I was. After tea, Maisie and I went up to her bedroom. It was a treasure trove – beautiful, all pink and white, with flowery wallpaper. She had a jewellery box, which was white with flowers and leaves painted on the outside. When Maisie lifted the lid, a little ballet dancer in blue silk slowly twirled around to a twinkling tune. I had never seen anything like it in my life – it was wonderful. I played with it over and over, mesmerised, opening and closing the lid, to Maisie’s amusement. We tried on all her rings and necklaces and danced around her room. She had loads of scarves, hair clips, pretty dresses, socks and shoes. Maisie was happy for me to try things on, and we both play-acted all sorts of things. It was the happiest afternoon of my life.
All too soon Barbara arrived at the front door and Maisie’s mum called up the stairs for me to go. I rushed down, afraid they would all see how strange she was. And indeed, there she was in her plain grey anorak, with her tight, wavy grey hair and pointy angry face, yanking the dog into a sitting position beside her. Seeing Maisie’s mum – who was as pretty as a picture in a long blue dress, with earrings and a necklace and lovely curly dark hair – I realised how old-fashioned and funny Barbara looked.
We marched home in silence and, when
we got back, I suddenly realised I still had one of Maisie’s rings on my finger. It was a thin silver band with a pretend green jewel on it.
‘You’re a thief!’ screamed Barbara. ‘You’re a naughty, wicked girl – go up to your room this instant.’
She pushed me in the house and up the stairs. I was crying. I hadn’t meant to take the ring. It was an accident. When Barbara had arrived, I’d rushed to get everything off (I’d had a ring on every finger), and must have missed the one on my little finger. Barbara pushed me into my room so hard I fell on the floor.
‘You are a wicked thief,’ she repeated, ‘and I’m going to call the police. You need teaching a bloody lesson.’
‘Noooooo!’ I screamed. ‘Please don’t call the police.’ But Barbara was already marching down the stairs and into the hall where the telephone table and Trimphone stood. I could hear her voice booming from the hall: ‘Hello, police? I want to report a thief. Her name is Louise Taylor. She is my adopted daughter and she is a nasty, spiteful, ungrateful, horrid little girl who lies and steals from people.’
I sobbed and sobbed as I heard this, and pulled the offending ring off my finger and put it on my bedside cabinet. It was like an unexploded bomb. I hated it.
‘She’s been to a little girl’s house to play and she deliberately stole her ring. She is wicked.’
I was listening and crying, biting my lip and pulling my hair. I would go to prison. I would never see Sean again.
‘Yes,’ I heard Barbara continue. ‘Yes, I will certainly punish her. Ten hard slaps at the top of her legs and ten hard slaps on her bottom. Thank you so much – you’re right: she’s no longer to go to other people’s houses as she steals and she’s not to be trusted.’
I was now so scared I was frozen to the spot, as I heard Barbara put the phone down and start stomping upstairs. I wanted to wee. Barbara roared in like thunder.
‘Stand up,’ she snapped, giving me a beady stare. ‘Pull down your knickers.’
I stood up on wobbly legs; I had no choice. Barbara bent sideways and took off her Clarks K-shoe, lifted my skirt and whacked me with it across the top of my thigh. The flat leather sole smacked really hard across my skin, stinging as she bashed me as hard as she could. Her lips were thin, her eyes narrowed, as she whacked hard.
She then bent me over the bed, putting my head on it, as I faced the window. This time I had ten hard thwacks with the stinging leather sole of her shoe. When the punishment was over she said, ‘You’ll get no tea tonight. You will go to Maisie’s house tomorrow and apologise for being a nasty little thief.’
That night I was utterly miserable. I had bruises on my thighs and my bottom really hurt. I hadn’t meant to take the ring; it was a real mistake. I was so worried about being late for Barbara and being punished that I’d rushed down the stairs at Maisie’s. But I’d got punished anyway. Now I was going to lose my one and only school friend. I would never be able to go to tea again. I lay in a pool of absolute misery all night.
Next day Barbara met me from school and marched me to Maisie’s house. When we got there, Barbara stood at the end of the path with the dog, looking very grim. Then I was pushed up the path and told to ring the doorbell. When the door opened, there was Maisie’s nice mummy, who said, sounding surprised, ‘Oh, hello, Louise.’
Then she noticed Barbara who had hung back at the end of the path, looking like a grim, grey statue.
‘Oh, hello, Barbara. Would you like to come in?’
Barbara sounded very stern and huffy. ‘No, thank you – she has something to say,’ she said, meaning me. I stood blinking on the doorstep, looking up at Maisie’s mum’s kind, warm face, with her pink lipstick and sparkly eyes. I held out the ring between my thumb and index finger.
‘I’m very sorry,’ I said in a small voice (I actually wanted to cry, but was trying not to), ‘I’ve done something very bad and naughty. I stole this ring because I’m a very bad girl.’
Maisie’s mum looked very confused for a moment. She picked up the ring and looked at it. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘this is just a toy from a comic. It’s okay – we didn’t even notice it was missing.’
I could feel my cheeks were now burning. I could also feel Barbara’s hawk-like eyes boring into my back.
‘It’s not a problem. I bet you just forgot you were wearing it,’ she continued sweetly. I looked up at her warm face and still wanted to sob.
‘Come here,’ snapped Barbara. I duly turned and walked back to Barbara, who grabbed the top of my arm and dug her talons in. Without a word to Maisie’s mum, she tugged me down the street. I lifted my free hand to attempt a feeble wave.
‘Stupid bloody woman,’ Barbara was hissing under her breath. ‘Bloody hippy.’
When I got home I was sent straight to my room without tea. When Ian arrived over an hour later, I heard Barbara telling him loudly in the hall that I was a ‘thief and a liar and I was going to prison’. I lay on the bed watching the evening light fade, feeling lonelier than lonely. Suddenly the door flung open and Kevin’s head popped round it.
