In one fluid movement, she threw the pink daisy-print duvet off her head and sat upright. Her hair was sticking out in all directions, and her once fresh cherry blossom-coloured cheeks were now a wishy-washy grey colour and covered in a layer of grease.
Rebecca tried to stroke her daughter’s arm but was instantly shrugged off.
‘Sweetheart, I know what you’ve been through is so difficult, but you need to eat and . . . ’ she sniffed the air, ‘take a shower. Come on. Please get out of this bed. You will feel so much better.’
Like a deranged young woman, with brown rings under her eyes and the intense hate casting doom, Brooke spat at her mother, ‘Don’t you ever tell me that I will feel better. You have no idea what I’ve been through. And don’t you dare try to tell me it will be okay, because, Mother, it won’t. Now, leave me alone!’
Rebecca backed away. Of course, she didn’t know how her daughter felt, or what on earth was going through her mind. She felt her tears well up and her heart was heavy. ‘I know, darling, I know, but I am just trying to help. I will leave you alone then.’
Brooke heard the door close, and she pulled the duvet back over her head. Her mother and father were the last people she wanted to console her now. They’d never shown any real interest in her or her sisters. She and her siblings were more like a by-product or an accessory. Talking to her mother was like conversing with her former headmistress – cold, stiff, and stilted.
She didn’t care if she needed a bath, and she certainly didn’t need to fill herself with food – that would only result in vomiting it back up. The windows had to be kept locked, no matter how hot it was, and her door closed. The light was permanently on and a kitchen knife lay under her pillow. She trusted no one and probably never would, ever again. She hated herself and the world around her. Things would never be the same, ever. The vision of those wide-eyed men clawing at her like they were devouring a hog roast would be with her for the rest of her life. She couldn’t cry anymore; the tears had dried up, and now she was angry, but also terrified. Her dreams were gone, and she felt her life was over.
Rebecca crept down the stairs, her eyes filling up once more, recalling the moment the police had brought Brooke home. It wasn’t so much the ripped clothes and exposed breast covered by a police blanket, or even the claw marks down her face: it was the dead look in her once bright, shiny eyes that would forever haunt her. Her daughter hadn’t stood a chance. The little bookworm, with her oversized glasses perched on her button nose and her sweetness as she gracefully wandered about, almost on tiptoes, seemed to be a distant memory. A well-liked, clear-headed teenager, who had so many dreams for the future. She worked hard at uni and still ensured she had time to have fun with her friends.
As Rebecca entered the kitchen, she found Kendall, her daughter from her previous marriage, perched on a stool devouring Nutella on toast. Dressed in black leggings and a T-shirt with a derogatory logo on the front, Kendall ignored her mother and swayed to the music streaming through her Beats by Dre headphones.
‘Kendall, do you think you could try to get Brooke at least to eat something? I am so worried about her. The poor little thing, she won’t listen to me . . . ’
Rebecca watched as her daughter continued to stuff her face and sway her head. Suddenly, Rebecca slammed her hands down on the table, which made Kendall jump.
‘Take those headphones off!’
Slowly, Kendall did as she was told, but with a sneering, disapproving look. ‘What now, Mother?’
‘I said, would you talk to Brooke? She won’t come out of her room, and I am so worried. She won’t eat, she is so . . . Look, please try to talk to her. Would you?’
‘For fuck’s sake, she’s your kid, it’s your job. Anyway, I think she needs professional help, or she will carry on like this and just end up milking it.’
No sooner were those words out of her mouth than Rebecca snatched her daughter’s arm and pulled her awkwardly to face her. ‘How dare you say such a cruel thing! That poor girl was raped by three lads! Jesus. And you have the audacity to say she will milk it? You, Kendall Mullins, should be totally ashamed of yourself.’
Kendall shrugged her mother off. Her younger sister was no concern of hers. ‘Well, for your information, Mother, I am not ashamed of myself. And all the bloody time you and Alastair fuss over her, but deny her proper help as well, she’s never going to get her fucking shit together, is she?’
Rebecca looked at her daughter long and hard and shook her head. Her once charming child was now a rebellious twenty-year-old with a lousy attitude. ‘Your language, Kendall, is absolutely disgusting and it’s hurtful to hear, I have to say. And calling your father Alastair is so disrespectful, and after all he has done for you . . . ’
Instantly, Kendall hopped down from the kitchen stool, and squarely stood in her mother’s face, in defiance. ‘What he’s done for me? Hello! He’s a creep! I never asked to be taken away from my father and dumped into your so-called happy family, did I? I was fine where I was. Just because you felt guilty about leaving me behind and—’
Bam. Rebecca slapped Kendall’s face, and then she immediately regretted it. ‘I am sorry. Look, I didn’t mean . . . ’
Kendall didn’t even hold her cheek, although it bloody well stung; instead, she glared back with a glacial expression. If looks could kill . . . ‘Fuck off, Mother. You’re so pathetic, weak, and fucking stupid. Seriously, take a look at yourself. On the surface, the perfect wife and mother. Then strip back the facade.’
Rebecca wanted nothing more than to shut Kendall up, but she’d already gone too far with the slap.
‘Running around like everything is wonderful, when, really, you know fuck all about what your husband is up to. Then there’s Brooke going out of her mind, and Poppy . . . well, do you even know anything about the jumped-up secret squirrel? The truth be told, Mother, I am probably the most normal person in this shambles of a family. And just a warning: don’t you ever hit me again, or, next time, I’ll forget you’re my mother.’
Pushing past her mother, she reached the door and looked back. ‘Oh, and by the way, I am going to be moving in with my father next week. I am twenty, and I’m sick of you telling me I can’t go anywhere until I pay you back the university fees. I don’t want to be a lawyer, I just want to be a hairdresser. I’m done with you telling me I owe you. You’ll get all the money back from my tips.’
Rebecca gasped. ‘What? No, you mustn’t. I mean, look, please, Kendall, don’t do that, you will—’
‘Ruin my future and blot your social standing? Yes, I know, Mother, and does this fucking face look like it’s bothered? No! Fuck you and fuck your career as well. That’s all you care about. God forbid, I should be a hairdresser! Well, I’m not going into law, and I don’t give a shit about your precious career either.’
Standing in shock, Rebecca jolted as the front door slammed shut. Kendall was right, though. No matter how much she pretended that her eldest daughter was a rebellious, spiteful young woman, she also knew that every word coming out of the girl’s mouth was the sodding truth. Pushing Kendall into a professional career in law – demanding she take a post in chambers – had obviously run its course, and there was no way she could stop her leaving now. The family was falling apart, and, even worse, she was powerless to stop it.
***
Willie
