Chapter 30

Alan found a message from his mentor on his desk, urging him to get his thesis finished. Hard though he worked, his mind kept returning to the meeting with Claire. He stopped in mid-afternoon and set off to meet Kirsty, still worrying. He remembered the pain in her eyes and sighed. It was going to be an ordeal.

Kirsty opened her door, wearing jeans and a jumper with her hair tied back, smiling a welcome as she put her coat on, grinning at his obvious nervousness.

“She’s not a dragon you know, she won’t eat you!” He gave her a weak smile as she shut the door.

She showed him around the neighbourhood. They climbed a long gentle hill past rows of bungalows, a shopping centre and a small park with a pond where they watched the ducks for a while. At the top of the hill they stood holding each other, admiring the panoramic view of the Tay estuary and the fife coast. They were almost back at the house, discussing how to break the news to Claire, when Alan noticed two youths glowering at him. When he looked at them they glanced away.

“Who are they?” he asked.

Kirsty gave him a sidelong look. “That’s just Kevin and one of his cronies. I was friendly with him at school and went to a couple of school dances with him, so he thinks he owns me. He called earlier.” She smiled reassuringly. “I told him that I didn’t want to see him again.” He saw her glance at him out of the corners of her eyes as they walked, as if she sensed the questions he wanted to ask. He saw her smile to herself. Back at the house, they sat down apprehensively to wait for Claire.

Claire approached the house, glad to get away from work on time for a change. She felt better than she had for days. “Maybe I’m getting over Alan,” she muttered.

She thought about Kirsty. For the last week she’d been behaving a bit strangely, suddenly bursting out singing and giving secretive smiles, then growing pensive as if she wanted to confide something. Maybe she’d found a boyfriend? Perhaps Kevin who lived two doors away. She smiled and opened the door and went in.

She stopped frozen on the spot as she glimpsed Kirsty and Alan in each other’s arms. They sprang apart, looking at her in dismay. She went from disbelief to blind fury and strode up to him.

“You! You bastard,” she spat out. “So this is the reason why you dumped me?” She slapped him hard on the face. “You bloody pervert, she’s just a child.”

“We haven’t …” she heard him begin but interrupted him with another hard slap.

With Kirsty crying her name in the background, she heard him shout, “I love her!” Even further enraged, she slapped him again and again. He stood defenceless, not even trying to avoid the blows.

Kirsty got hold of her arm crying. “Claire, Please!” But she shook her off and tried to claw his face with her nails, but he grabbed her wrists and kept her away, turning sideways to avoid her knees and kicks.

She felt herself pushed to the settee and held. She struggled, swearing at him. She saw Kirsty trembling, her face white, giving little inarticulate cries. She put her hands to the side of her head and start screaming. Alan released her and rushed to Kirsty to put his arms around her, pulling her head to his chest and stroking her hair. Claire took the opportunity to grab the poker from the fireplace.

As she brought it down she screamed. “Get your filthy hands away from her you pervert.” But warned by Kirsty’s wide-eyed scream, he turned just in time and the poker just scraped the side of his head and hit his shoulder.

She saw his grimace of pain and felt a flare of triumph. She raised the poker for another blow, but he grabbed her wrist. She cursed and wriggled it free but was stunned by a sudden hard slap to her face. She staggered and dropped the poker. She recovered to see Kirsty, her eyes wide with shock, slapping Alan on the back. She summoned the energy to screech.

“Get out! Get out! You, sick pervert.”

Alan looked at them both, Kirsty still shaking with her eyes wide and unseeing, and Claire, her white face contorted with fury. He felt sick.

He appealed. “Kirsty?” But she looked at him wide eyed and with horror on her face.

He turned to Claire, but she snarled. “Get out! You’ve done enough you bastard.”

He backed out, he didn’t know what else to do. Bonny who’d retreated beneath the sideboard, spat at him as he passed. Kirsty seemed to come to her senses and started to follow him, but Claire got in front of her and pushed her violently back, screaming.

“Get to your room, you filthy slut.” He started to go back but Kirsty turned and ran to her room sobbing and Claire turned back to him.

He backed towards the door then jumped back as Claire slammed the door in his face. He stood facing the door not knowing what to do. He waited a while, listening for any cries for help. He felt blood trickling down his neck and probed with his fingers and found a cut. He cleaned himself up as much as he could with his handkerchief.

Claire stood dazed then reaction set in and she began to shake, then she was sobbing, breathing in great rasping gasps. She tottered to the settee and flopped down. After a while her breathing and heartbeat slowed. Her hand was smarting from slapping Alan and she stared at it as if it belonged to someone else. She remembered the pain as she’d slapped him. She would have liked to slap and slap and slap until her fury had dissipated. No! She would have liked something to hit him with, she wanted to see his broken body lying at her feet. The vision nauseated her, and she rushed to the bathroom, but the sensation passed.

She came back to sit on the settee feeling calmer. She recalled when Alan had come to the house to collect her and as if in a flashback Kirsty’s flaming cheeks and the way they’d looked at each other. A feeling of outrage rekindled her anger. She stalked to Kirsty’s bedroom and tried the door, but it was locked. She rattled the door knob but got no response. Her rage erupted again, and she banged on the door and shouted.

“Get out here you little cow.” There was still no response.

She banged and kicked the door, shrieking at the top of her voice. “Get out here right now or I’ll break down this door and pull you out by your bloody hair.”

She heard movement inside and the key turning in the lock. Kirsty came out hesitantly, her eyes wide with fear, tear streaks lacquering her flushed cheeks.

Claire looked her up and down. “Well?” Kirsty stood twisting her fingers, staring at her feet. “I gave up my chance of happiness to look after you, I’ve sacrificed myself for you, protected you and this is how you repay me?” Her voice rose to a shout. “I ought to slap you black and blue you, selfish little bitch!” She raised her hand.

Kirsty flinched, looked up into her eyes and sobbed. “I’m sorry Claire.” Kirsty’s wide-eyed expression reminded her of her mother, her young sister was so like her.

She looked at Kirsty through the filter of her memory, as a baby, as a toddler, and as a young girl. She calmed down. She lowered her hand and asked, her voice now quiet. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since the first time we saw each other,” Kirsty whispered.

Claire sneered. “Aw! Love at first sight, was it?” She gave Kirsty a withering look.

“I love him.” Kirsty burst out. “You shouldn’t have done that to him, you were just friends, we’ve done nothing wrong.”

Furious again, Claire shouted making Kirsty flinch once more. “Love him, LOVE him? What do you know about love you’re just a child?”

She saw Kirsty quail but assert bravely. “I’m seventeen.”

Claire’s anger collapsed. Reaching out to Kirsty, she put an arm around her, pulled her to her chest, and stroked her hair.

“I blame him, I should have known. He was looking down his nose at me all the time. I should have warned you about men like him, leading me on, then messing about with my little sister. I’ll get him for this, I should have killed him.” She gave Kirsty a shake. “We need a good stiff drink.”

She led the way to the kitchen, poured them both a vodka, and tried to turn Kirsty against Alan, refilling her glass several times.

“He’s too old for you,” she advised as she ostentatiously started to bind her wrist with a bandage, pretending to grimace with pain.

“Can I help?” Kirsty asked her, looking concerned.

Claire smiled to herself. “Yes, both my wrists are sore, but I think there might be something broken in this one. I’ll get it X-rayed tomorrow.”

“Oh! Claire I’m sorry,” Kirsty sobbed as she gently stroked the bandage around Claire’s wrist.

“Don’t worry, I’m tough.” She saw the tears running down her sister’s cheeks. “But what kind of man would punch a woman in the face?” She rubbed her cheek with her free hand. She saw Kirsty open her mouth, hesitate, then close it. “What about university? I’ve made sacrifices, I even gave up the man I loved to look after you. You’ll be starting university soon. Are you going to throw away a career for an infatuation that won’t last long? I don’t want you to see him again, I want you to promise.” Kirsty shook her head. Claire continued. “How many times do I have to get beaten up protecting you, maybe next time he’ll kill me. Will you still see him then?”

“But I love him Claire,” Kirsty wailed.

Claire knew better than to belittle Alan. She tried another tack and turned on the tears.

“I loved him too,” she sobbed. “We got on so well until you stole him from me.” Tears rolled down her cheeks surprising Claire herself.

She felt Kirsty wrap her arms around her and press her cheek to her face. “I’m sorry Claire,” she sobbed. “I didn’t know.”

Claire smiled to herself. They staggered off to bed after Kirsty had eventually promised her not to see Alan again. She slept in Claire’s arms the way she used to when she was little, or upset, and as she stroked Kirsty’s hair, Claire vowed she would make Alan suffer a lot more if he came back.

Alan wondered what was going on inside the house. He heard shouting and lifted his hand to ring the bell then stopped. He couldn’t decide what to do. He wandered up and down the road, worrying and occasionally listening at the door. Early in the morning the lights went out in the house and he crept round the back to Kirsty’s window, but the room was in darkness. He tapped softly at the window, but there was no response. He made up his mind to leave and to see Kirsty the next day, to find out what had happened. With his thoughts in turmoil he started the long walk back to the city centre. Back in his room he washed the cut and inspecting it with the aid of two mirrors, he decided it wouldn’t need any more attention. He eventually fell asleep, his thoughts still churning away inside his head.

Claire woke to the persistent ringing of her alarm clock. She reached drowsily to switch it off. Her stomach was rumbling reminding her that she had had no dinner the previous evening. She recalled the events of the evening with a sense of unreality. She glanced at Kirsty’s white face, thought how young she looked and felt a twinge of remorse. She pushed it to the back of her mind as she remembered Kirsty in Alan’s embrace. “How dare he,” she seethed. Kirsty was just a child, he was a grown man. “No! She wasn’t sorry. What she’d done was for Kirsty’s own good.” Some thought struggled to surface in her consciousness, but afraid of what it might be, she pushed it away. She rose and dressed.

After breakfast, just before she left, she brought Kirsty a mug of coffee, but Kirsty groaned and pulled the duvet over her head.

She yanked it back. “Have a drink of coffee, it will make you feel better. I’ve taken the battery out of the doorbell. If that swine calls, don’t answer the door, remember your promise.” Kirsty groaned again, and Claire saw her pull the duvet back over her head as she left.

Alan staggered out of bed groaning. He felt his head, it was throbbing, but the cut seemed to be healing. He shaved, had a shower, soaked the bloodstained handkerchief and pillowcase in the sink, then sat with a mug of sweet coffee, going over and over in his mind the events of the previous night. He hoped desperately that Kirsty was alright, but surely, Claire even in a rage wouldn’t harm her sister? He tried to make sense of what had happened. Claire had called him a pervert but all he’d done was kiss Kirsty, but even if he’d gone further it certainly wasn’t unnatural. He was a little older than her but less than five years, and in the relationships, he knew of, this was the norm rather than the exception. Kirsty was old enough to get married!

Desperate to find out what had happened, he decided to go to Kirsty’s house. Claire would be at work. so, it should be safe enough. Worry gnawed at his stomach on the bus. He jumped off and hurried to her house. He pressed the doorbell twice. He knocked and waited in vain. The curtains were still drawn in the lounge, so he couldn’t see in. He walked round to the back of the house and peered in Kirsty’s bedroom window. Her bed was made up and nothing was out of place. She didn’t have an exam, so she wouldn’t be at school. It occurred to him that she might have gone to the university in search of him. He decided to go back to his room and return to Kirsty’s house later.

Kirsty hid under the duvet, feeling thoroughly miserable, because of the previous day’s events and the after effects of the alcohol, but most of all at the realisation she must never see Alan again. She heard the knocking at the door, guessed it was Alan, but she felt too ill and hopeless to get out of bed.

“I trusted you Alan,” she sobbed. “Why did you hurt Claire?”

She knew that it wasn’t his fault, but he’d still hurt her sister. Her thoughts went around in circles. She loved Alan, but she loved Claire too and Claire had done so much for her. It would be disloyal, No! It would be a second betrayal, if she continued to see him. So, she told herself between sobs, yet her heart was telling her something different. But her head won the battle. She shut her feelings away and refused to let them influence her.