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Her shrug said it all. Her voice sounded blubbery through her thick lip.
“Scottie is Scottie. He gets like this sometimes. It’s just how he is.”
The man upstairs raised his eyebrows, and his shocked expression confirmed my suspicions. He really didn’t belong here in this block, in this place, in this crappy life.
“That’s absurd,” he told her. “That vile piece of shit needs arresting and charging. I’m going to get the police over here. I’m sorry, but he needs to be held accountable.”
Mum grabbed his wrist as he made to dial in the number again.
“Please don’t do that.”
I wasn’t sure whether to shout or cry at her, so I did neither. I looked over at him instead.
“She won’t listen. She never does.” My voice burst into stupid racking sobs. “She never listens to me.”
It must have been like witnessing a car crash. The poor guy should have been watching Mastermind upstairs, or reading a classic highbrow novel, enjoying a quiet Thursday evening, but here he was, crouched in our shitty living room next to a smashed-up coffee table and two fucked up women.
“I still think I should call them,” he said, but I shook my head again.
“It won’t make any difference. She’ll just lie to them and tell them she fell.”
Mum found her fake brave face and gave him a smile.
“I’ll be ok now, thanks. It’s over. Me and Scottie are over. I won’t be going back to him in a million years. No chance. We’re done.”
She always fucking said that.
He looked almost as unconvinced as I was, but he got to his feet. What else could he do?
“Thanks,” Mum said to him. “For helping me. Scott’s a jackass.”
“He’s more than a jackass,” the man upstairs said. “He’s a violent, abusive, cunt.”
My breath hitched at the sound of the C word spoken in such a posh tone. I was staring as he put his phone back in his pocket, his eyes still angry.
“Do you need the hospital?” he asked Mum. “It’s Beverly, yes?”
She nodded, giving him a lip-swollen grin. “Bev, yes. And no, thanks. I’ll be alright. It’s only a couple of bruises. No big deal.”
I despised the way she always made it sound so normal.
His green eyes burned into mine.
“And you’re Rosie?”
I wondered how he knew my name, since nobody ever spoke to him.
I straightened my glasses back up, took a breath.
“Yeah, I’m Rosie.”
“Julian,” he said.
Julian.
I got up from the sofa, so grateful for his help that I wrapped my arms around his waist to give him a hug. “Thank you so much for helping us.”
He stiffened up at that, uncomfortable, giving my shoulder a token pat as I squeezed him tight. He backed away as soon as he could do, straightening his tie. His emotions retreated, eyes turning duller as the adrenaline in the room came back to earth.
