Sadie. Jane Elliott
Sadie had been surprised by Miss Venables’ questions – teachers weren’t supposed to talk like that. Maybe there was something really wrong with Jamie. Maybe she should find out: even if she didn’t tell anyone, perhaps she could do something to help. And it would take her mind off other things. Looking around, she saw the little boy walking along one of the walls of the playground, his finger tracing the shape of the mortar between the bricks. He looked just the same as usual. She crossed the playground to talk to him.
‘Hi,’ she said, as she fell in beside him.
‘Leave us alone.’
Sadie blinked at him. ‘What d’you mean?’
‘Just leave us alone,’ Jamie replied. There were tears in his eyes, and to hide them he took a couple of quick steps forward. Sadie stood still, watching him go and feeling a hot creeping embarrassment rising up her neck. In her little fantasy she had thought she could make everything all right for Jamie Brown, but she couldn’t.
How could she, when she couldn’t even make things all right for herself?
Carly and Anna continued to avoid her, even after school. She wanted to make up with them, but she was embarrassed by her outburst and didn’t know how to; besides, now that she no longer had her own key, something told her that if she was late back home she’d get a grilling from Allen. The thought of seeing him was repugnant to her, but not as bad as the memory of his fury the previous night. So as soon as school finished, she walked home by herself.
It felt strange having to ring the bell, as though this was not even her home any more. In the event she had to ring it twice before Allen deigned to answer. When he did so, Sadie looked aghast at him. He was wearing no shirt, and the pungent odour of his aftershave was worse than ever. Sadie’s distaste must have been obvious from her face, because a shadow instantly fell over Allen’s expression.
‘What?’ he asked.
Sadie looked away. ‘Nothing.’ She pushed past him and ran straight upstairs to her bedroom.
Closing the door behind her, Sadie sat down on her bed and pulled a book out of her satchel. Homework for Miss Venables was to read a chapter. While Sadie would never normally have rushed to do schoolwork at home, it was a more attractive option than being downstairs with Allen, and if he came up to nag her, at least she had an excuse for staying in her room. She opened the book and started to read. For the next twenty minutes, though, she must have read the opening paragraph a hundred times, and still she had no idea what it said. Her mind was too distracted, and her ears were waiting to hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs that she knew could not be far away.
Eventually they came, followed by the predictable three knocks and the opening of the door. His shirt was still off.
‘What you doing?’ Allen managed to look almost revolted at the book in Sadie’s hands.
‘Homework,’ she replied curtly, furrowing her eyebrows and pretending to continue to read.
‘Never mind that now,’ he told her. ‘Come downstairs and talk to me. Nobody likes sulky kids.’
‘I can’t.’ Sadie tried to sound apologetic, but in fact she just sounded panicky. ‘It’s homework. I – ’
All of a sudden Allen was striding towards her. Sadie flinched as he grabbed the book from her hands and scrunched a handful of pages in his fist. ‘What’s the fucking matter with you?’ he fumed. ‘Think you’re brainier than everyone else, do you?’ He stared furiously at her before throwing the damaged book on the floor. ‘You see what you’ve made me do?’ he asked, his voice quieter now but no less dangerous. ‘You’d better stop being so fucking arrogant – otherwise I’ll tell your teachers it was you did that. Are you coming downstairs or what?’
Sadie bit her lip and nodded her head.
‘Well, go on, then,’ Allen urged. She pushed herself off the bed and then walked downstairs, never looking back but feeling him close behind her nonetheless. When she got to the kitchen, she simply stood there, not knowing what to do. Allen made his way into the sitting room, and he heard his voice drift out, calmer now: ‘Make yourself useful, then, and make us a brew.’ He switched the television on.
Sadie found herself filling the kettle full to the brim so that it would take longer to boil and she could stay out of the sitting room for a few extra precious seconds. But there was only so much time she could take making a cup of tea until she provoked his anger again, and before she knew it she was carrying a mugful into the sitting room and handing it to him.
‘Ta, Shakespeare,’ he said with a forced smile, apparently trying to be pleasant, before placing the mug on the arm of the settee. He then tapped the seat next to him. ‘Sit down next to me,’ he ordered, his eyes fixed on the television screen.
Sadie did as she was told.
They sat there in silence for a long while, Allen sipping his tea and watching the television, Sadie increasingly feeling the urge to shrink from him. But although she was repelled by the very presence of the man sitting next to her, she found that she couldn’t help looking occasionally at his bare skin. It was white and slightly podgy, with a wispy dusting of brown hair. What had caught her attention was a patch on one side of his belly that was even paler than the rest of his skin, where no hair grew. Sadie found herself wondering what it was, but pulled her eyes away when she realized Allen was watching her.
‘You looking at my scar?’ he said in a voice that was little more than a whisper.
Sadie shook her head.
‘Yes you were. I saw you. It’s all right, pet. You’re allowed to look.’
‘I wasn’t looking.’
‘I suppose you’re wondering where I got it.’
Sadie remained tight-lipped.
‘It’s a knife wound,’ Allen said. ‘I got it in Manchester. There were a couple of scallies attacking an old lady for her handbag, so I stepped in. They went for me instead. Three weeks in hospital it cost me.’ He took another slurp of his tea, and then placed the mug back down on the armrest. ‘It still hurts sometimes, but rather me than an old granny, eh?’
Suddenly Sadie felt his hand on her wrist. She tried to pull away, but he just gripped harder. ‘You’re hurting me!’ she squealed, but that only made him squeeze tighter. He pulled her arm towards him and placed her clenched fist against the scar; then he moved it up and down, forcing her to caress it against her will. The scar tissue felt smooth compared to the rest of his downy skin, but the sensation made Sadie shudder with revulsion and she continued to struggle, despite the increasing fierceness of his grip. ‘Let me go,’ she said, feeling tears starting to stream down her cheek. ‘Please let me go.’
But he didn’t let her go. Instead, he was whispering in her ear, his lips brushing against her lobes. ‘You don’t want a scar like that on your pretty little body, do you, pet?’
‘No,’ she whimpered.
‘No,’ Allen confirmed. ‘So you’d better do as you’re told. Understand?’
Blinded now by her tears, Sadie nodded. Her wrist was burning, and if she had wanted to speak, she knew the words would choke in her throat.
As quickly as he had grabbed her, he let go. ‘Go on, then,’ he spat. ‘Fuck off back to your bedroom. Go and pretend to read your book.’
Sadie fled.
For the second time in as many days, she found herself trembling in her room, her ears straining to hear the sounds Allen was making downstairs. She deduced that he had turned the television off – or muted it, as he sometimes did, leaving the picture silently playing – because she could hear him walking around. His movements seemed more chaotic than usual, as though he was stomping around angrily. Sadie tiptoed to her door, opened it a little and put her ear to the gap: she jumped as she heard the smashing of a glass and then ran back to her bed, where she automatically