A Family’s Heartbreak. Kitty Neale

who was sixteen, had been huddled on the bed that she shared with thirteen-year-old Pamela. She hated top-and-tailing with her sister as Pamela would often wet the bed, especially after their dad had one of his rages. Gloria rolled her eyes, knowing she would wake up later tonight in the warmth of Pamela’s urine.

      Peter had thrown himself at Pamela when he’d come running upstairs, while Timmy, at nine the older of the two boys, ran to Gloria. When the front door slammed she peeled Timmy from her and put a finger to her lips to shush them. Then they all tiptoed to the top of the stairs.

      Gloria whispered to the others to stay where they were as she began to creep downstairs. If he was still in the house, the last thing she wanted was to attract her father’s attention, and she stepped over the fourth stair down, knowing it creaked. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder to see her brothers and sister waiting nervously at the top for her to give them the all-clear.

      Almost halfway down, Gloria could see over the banisters and into the open living room door. She gasped, though she wasn’t shocked to see Jenny looking dazed and picking herself up from the floor. Once again, her sister had taken a hiding from their dad. Thankfully, there was no sign of him now and though Gloria detested seeing her sister being hurt, she was relieved it wasn’t her.

      ‘He’s gone,’ Gloria called back to her siblings as she ran down the rest of the stairs and into the lounge. ‘Oh, Jenny, are you OK?’ she asked, concerned, as she scanned her sister for cuts and bruises.

      ‘Yes, I think so,’ Jenny answered, though she appeared wobbly on her feet.

      ‘I hate him!’ Gloria spat as she helped Jenny towards the sofa. Then she noticed the small slivers of broken glass and instead led her sister to the table and four chairs in the bay window. ‘It ain’t fair that he always takes it out on us.’

      ‘I know, love, but try and be a little charitable. He’s doing his best,’ Jenny said and winced as she rubbed the side of her head.

      ‘Charitable! He’s just knocked you about again and you’re suggesting I should be charitable! You’re too blinkin’ nice, you are. Ain’t you angry about it?’ Gloria asked, shocked at Jenny’s response. She’d never understand her elder sister. Jenny was so quiet, and whenever she did say anything, it was never horrid. In fact, she couldn’t remember a time when Jenny had lost her rag, or even raised her voice.

      ‘Yes, Gloria, of course I’m angry, but I’ve got to control it. If I don’t I’ll be as bad as him. Where’s Timmy and Peter? Are you all right, boys?’

      Timmy spoke first. He was a confident lad, the joker of the family, and though it was probably a brave front, he never seemed to be too badly affected by his father’s violent outbursts, except at night when the bad dreams would come. ‘Yeah, I’m all right, Sis. Did our dad whack you again?’

      Gloria answered for Jenny. ‘Yes, he did, the ’orrible so and so. Pam, go and make Jenny a cup of tea. You two, your sister needs a bit of peace and quiet so get back up to your room, there’s good boys.’

      ‘Come on, Peter, I’ve got a new spider and I’ve made him a house. I’ll show you,’ Timmy said, before running from the room with his younger brother closely following.

      Gloria pulled out a chair from the teak table and sat opposite Jenny. ‘I think we should have a word with Mum, you know, tell her not to keep coming round here like she does. If she wants to see us, we can go to her.’

      Jenny drew in a long breath before she spoke. ‘The trouble is, you know what Mum’s like. If you tell her not to do something, she’ll be all the more determined to do it. And as for us going to see her, it’s a nice idea, Gloria, but she’s always on the move. I don’t know where she is from one month to the next, or what sort of bloke she might be living with.’

      ‘Well, the next time she shows her face, I’m going to say something to her. It ain’t right that one of us, mainly you, gets it in the neck every flippin’ time she comes around. I dread it. Don’t get me wrong, she’s our mum and I love her, but I’d rather not see her again than go through this each time.’

      Pamela came into the room carrying a tray of tea. Both sisters looked at her as the china cups rattled in the saucers. Though she’d tried to hide it, they could see she’d been crying again.

      ‘Don’t upset yourself,’ Jenny said softly, ‘Mum ain’t likely to show her face again for a few weeks and Dad will have calmed down by the time he gets home.’

      ‘More like had a bloody skinful,’ Gloria said as she shook her head.

      Pamela placed the tray on the table and jumped when she heard a car door slam. ‘I’ll get the broom,’ she said quietly, looking at the glass covering the sofa.

      Gloria watched her sister scuttle off. Pamela was so thin and lived on her jangled nerves. Maybe she should be nicer to her and stop having a go about her bedwetting. It might make a difference, she thought. When Pamela returned, Gloria said, ‘I was just saying to Jenny that it would be better if Mum didn’t come here to see us.’

      Pamela nodded, but didn’t seem to be really listening. She was peering out of the window, obviously looking for their father, and by the way she was poised Gloria thought she was ready to sprint back upstairs if she saw him.

      Gloria turned to Jenny. ‘Do you know where Mum is now?’

      ‘No, but she’s not with what’s-his-face. I heard Dad say that he’d dropped her like a ton of bricks. I’ll pop in to see Gran later, see if she knows anything.’

      Gloria tutted. ‘Knowing Mum, she’s probably got some other bloke on the go and is shacking up with him.’

      Jenny’s lips tightened, but she didn’t answer. Gloria knew her sister didn’t like it when she was derogatory about their mother, but for once she didn’t chastise her.

      ‘Can I come to see Gran with you?’ Pamela asked Jenny in an unsteady voice.

      ‘Yes, all right, love,’ Jenny told her.

      Gloria was barely listening as her thoughts turned to her dad. She wished him dead and imagined sticking the bread knife in his chest whilst he slept. He’d turned Pamela into a bag of nerves, Peter was always crying, Timmy had nightmares and Jenny was covered in bruises. She couldn’t blame her mother for their father’s vehement mood swings. He’d always been like it for as far back as she could remember, only it was her mum that used to get slapped about, not them. Maybe if he’d been a better husband, she wouldn’t have walked out on them. Gloria wished she could do the same, just walk away and leave the bloody lot of them to it.

       Chapter 2

      Lizzie Lombard strode purposefully down Boundaries Road, thankful to put some distance between her and the three-bedroomed council house Henry lived in. It was her house too, her children lived there, and as far as she was concerned Henry had no bloody right to throw her out of it. But she was no match for his ferocious temper and knew that when Henry was in one of ‘those moods’, it was best to stay out of his way.

      A car honked its horn as it passed her, which instantly put a smile back on Lizzie’s face. She enjoyed the attention she commanded from men, and though she’d recently celebrated her forty-second birthday, she prided herself on her looks. She wasn’t one of those old fuddy-duddy middle-aged women who dressed identically to their mothers. She liked the latest fashions and thought the new hemline, an inch above the knee, showed her shapely legs at their best. She’d heard women call her mutton dressed as lamb, but she put it down to their jealousy.

      As she headed towards Balham High Road, her wavy blonde hair bounced up and down in time with her confident stride and sashaying slender hips. Earlier that morning, she’d put some lemon juice in her hair, and now, as the April sun shone on it, she hoped it would soon be a shade lighter. Roy liked her hair. He had complimented her on it many times. He said it was the blondest he’d ever seen