in Bowness and live and work up there – for Christ’s sake, she can’t even keep her bedroom tidy.’
‘It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard, Lisa. At least she’s looking for a job.’
‘Are you having a laugh, Ben. She said if the hotel won’t let her live in then she’ll go and stop with your Annie. Which is never a good idea. I love your sister to bits but she has more nutters and serial killers chasing her than the bloody detectives on the television. No, it’s not a good idea at all – and you should go upstairs and tell her that.’
‘Yes, you’re right about Annie but she’s pregnant now and that man who was stalking her is dead. For all we know it’s not as if Tilly will even get the job; the least you can do is let her go there and have an interview. It will be good experience for her and if she does get it then we’ll discuss what’s going to happen then. How does that sound?’
‘Fucking ridiculous, Ben. The day you actually stand by me and my opinions I’ll probably drop dead with shock. Do what you want, but I’m not being a part of it. You can tell her and if anything bad happens then on your head be it.’
She rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. Ben walked across and kissed his wife’s forehead, then he sighed. All he seemed to do lately was try to keep the peace between them but it was getting more difficult each day. Then he went upstairs to talk to his daughter, who had music blasting from her room so loud the floor was vibrating underneath his feet. No doubt it had been to drown out the noise of him and Lisa arguing. Tilly hated it when they argued, which seemed to be an awful lot lately. What she didn’t realise was that she was the cause of most of the arguments. He’d never imagined teenage girls could be such hard work.
He knocked on her door and waited for her to open it. She did and he followed her inside and sat on the end of her bed.
‘God, she told you to say no, didn’t she?’
Ben nodded. ‘Tilly I can understand where your mum is coming from. She’s only worried about you.’
‘No, she isn’t. She doesn’t want me to have a life – she wants me to be stuck in this crap town for ever and pregnant before I’m twenty-one. For God’s sake it’s only an interview, I probably won’t even get the job.’
‘When is it?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘How are you going to get there? Me and your mum are both at work, you know that.’
‘I’m not an idiot, Dad. I can get the bus or a train – and besides, Gemma is coming with me and her mum who isn’t a total psycho might be taking us yet.’
Ben started to laugh. ‘All right, you can go, but if you get stranded make sure you phone one of us, okay.’
‘Thank you, Dad, I promise I will. You do both realise I’m almost eighteen, don’t you?’
‘Yes, but you have to realise that whether you’re eighteen or fifty-eight you’re still our little girl and we’ll always worry about you.’
She rolled her eyes and lifted two fingers to her head, pretending to shoot herself.
‘Very funny. Now make sure you look smart and don’t be cheeky when they ask you straightforward questions. Look them in the eye and do your best to answer them.’
‘Argh, Dad, get out. Now you’re just being insulting.’
He stood up and grinned.
‘Just checking. Oh, and I wouldn’t mention that you’re allergic to the hoover or washing machine either.’
He walked out and as she shut the door behind him, she felt her stomach churn. She didn’t care about lying to her mum but she hated lying to her dad. But hopefully he’d never find out. She only had to meet the photographer, have her photoshoot and then come home again. Tilly had found his details through Facebook. Some of her friends had liked his page so she’d clicked on it and had been impressed with some of the photographs. There were lots of prom photographs and a few before and after makeovers; one of the women had looked like an old dog before so he must be good to have taken the after photo where she looked quite nice. There was a voucher on there for a free photoshoot, no obligation to buy the photos if you didn’t like them. He sounded perfect and he didn’t look like some sort of major pervert. He wasn’t based in Barrow, he was in Hawkshead – which was a bit far away and trickier to get to – but she could do it. There was a bus route and if she got stuck she could go and see Annie for a lift home. She would tell them she didn’t like the manager at the hotel and didn’t want to work there anyway, so that would put an end to this argument. Then hopefully she would be able to send off her portfolio to the modelling agencies in Manchester and London. Her mum would have a complete shit fit when she found out that she wanted to move away to a city, but she wouldn’t be able to stop her once she was eighteen. She would be able to do whatever she wanted and get out of this dead-end town. The last three years she had done nothing but dream about becoming a model and living a far more glamorous life than the one she did now. If she didn’t try she’d never know, and would spend the rest of her life regretting it.
Joanne Tyson opened her eyes and wondered why she was lying on a damp, hard, concrete floor. For a moment she didn’t have a clue as she blinked and her vision semi-cleared, then she remembered exactly where she was. One eye was swollen shut and she opened her good eye; he had gone, she couldn’t hear him stomping around. Which was good. She tried to sit up but felt queasy and lightheaded; he’d managed to really do some damage this time. Joanne wondered what it was she’d said to make him fly off the handle; she thought back but couldn’t think of anything that had warranted him giving her a black eye and knocking her unconscious. He was getting much worse – for a while everything had seemed okay and he seemed to have forgotten about using her as a punching bag, but lately… She shuddered. Well, lately it was getting more painful to be around him. The floor was freezing and she remembered where she was – she had come into the garage to ask him if he wanted some dinner, and he’d flipped. Now here she was. She heard his heavy footsteps as he came back through the door and walked towards her. She sat up, tucking her knees under her chin and wrapping her arms around them. She felt the air cool as his dark shadow loomed over her and she flinched once more; he bent down and stroked her head.
‘I’m so sorry, Jo, I didn’t mean it. You caught me off guard – you know I don’t like you coming in here when I’m working. It puts me off my stride; if you put me off I lose my momentum, then I can’t get it back – and the bills won’t pay themselves, will they?’
She whispered, ‘I’m sorry, I forgot. I just wanted to see you. I get so bored on my own all day.’
He reached down and stroked her hair like she was some kind of pet dog. ‘I’m nearly done for now. How about you go and clean yourself up and I’ll come inside, make us both a sandwich?’
He reached down, putting his hands under her arms, then pulled her to her feet. He brushed her down and she had to stop herself from flinching at his touch. Keeping her one good eye on the ground, she didn’t look across at the bank of steel fridges that were now lined against the back wall. She remembered now that she had stared at them when she’d come in and that had been why he’d hit her. She’d never seen them before and wondered why he wanted those monstrosities, which looked like something out of a television morgue. He must have seen the shock on her face and that
