The following day was Sunday and, as Adele had anticipated, her father interrogated Peter as soon as he was out of bed.
‘What time did you get in last night?’
Peter shrugged his shoulders, ‘Dunno, late.’
‘I know it was late; I asked you what bleedin’ time it was!’
‘Not sure, about eleven, I think.’
Tommy took a swipe at Peter, knocking his head sideways. ‘Oh no it fuckin’ wasn’t, you lying little get!’ he said. ‘I was awake at twelve and you weren’t in then.’
On feeling his father’s heavy hand, Peter jumped back and stood glaring at him but he didn’t dare hit him back. ‘About twelve then. I dunno!’ he said. ‘I didn’t check the clock.’
‘Well it’s about bleedin’ time you did! You know you’re supposed to be in by eleven; you’re only fuckin’ sixteen,’ he said, landing another blow to the side of Peter’s head.
‘Ouch,’ yelled Peter. ‘That hurt!’
‘It was supposed to fuckin’ hurt! I want you home by eleven in future or you’ll get more than that. And you can stay in for the rest of today… What the fuck were you up to anyway?’
‘Nowt. Just hangin’ around with my mates.’
‘I don’t fuckin’ believe you! Anyway, you can stay in tonight so I know where you are.’ Tommy then looked at Peter suspiciously before walking away.
Adele was glad when it was over; at least her father hadn’t found out the real time that Peter arrived home. She noticed that while her dad had been challenging Peter, she had been subconsciously holding her breath, hoping that Peter wouldn’t try to retaliate. She tried to relax, allowing her tense muscles to ease.
Later that morning Adele chose a moment when her father wasn’t around to ask Peter what time he had got in. He confirmed that it was sometime after two o’clock.
‘Jesus, Peter! You’re pushing your luck, aren’t you? I won’t ask what you were up to; I’d rather not know. But if he finds out, you’ll be for it,’ she said.
‘He won’t find out though, will he? Not unless somebody tells him,’ he said, scornfully.
Adele was a bit put out that he should think she’d tell on him. ‘You know I wouldn’t do that, Peter,’ she replied. ‘Just be careful, that’s all.’
It was sometime soon afterwards when the police arrived at the house. The family were all still at home.
‘Does Peter Robinson live here?’ asked the officer when Shirley answered the door.
‘Yes, why? What’s he done?’
‘I think it would be best if we came inside to explain,’ said the officer.
Shirley led them into the living room; two PCs, both male and aged somewhere in their thirties. Adele could see by the expression on her mother’s face that she was about to go into panic mode. Her father, on the other hand, had adopted a stern expression as he surveyed the officers’ arrival.
‘Perhaps you’d like to switch off the TV while we discuss matters,’ suggested the first officer.
Tommy stormed over to the TV screen, pressed the button forcefully and slammed back down into his chair.
‘Is Peter here?’ asked the officer.
‘Go and get him, Adele!’ her father ordered.
Adele shouted up the stairs. Her heart was beating fitfully and there was a heavy sensation in the pit of her stomach. When Peter appeared at the top of the stairs, she gestured for him to come down. Before Peter could enter the living room she whispered into his ear to forewarn him about the police presence but he didn’t seem too fazed.
The atmosphere inside the room was solemn and the formal scene looked out of place in Adele’s home. She noticed that her mother was in tears already and was clutching a stained and soggy cotton handkerchief.
Peter sat down on the sofa. By this time he appeared contrite.
Before Adele could join him, her father said, ‘There’s no place for you here, Adele. Go up to your room till the police have gone!’
Adele did as she was told but she was annoyed. Why was her father taking his anger out on her? She realised that it was his way of maintaining a level of control and displaying his authority to the police officers.
While Adele was upstairs, she tried to listen to what was happening but it was no use, so she crept downstairs, hoping her father wouldn’t hear her as she put her ear to the living room door and listened to what was being said.
‘It’s been confirmed that you were on the factory roof with Alan Palmer and David Scott when David fell through the skylight,’ said one of the officers.
‘I wasn’t,’ said Peter.
‘We’ve had it confirmed by David Palmer who is currently in hospital suffering from injuries following his fall.’
Adele inhaled sharply. So that’s what Peter had been up to last night! No wonder he had been looking so shifty.
‘Don’t tell bleedin’ lies!’ shouted her father. She assumed his comments were directed at Peter.
The officer chipped in. ‘Peter Robinson, I’m afraid we’ll have to take you to the station for further questioning.’
Then Adele heard movement and her heartbeat quickened. She dashed away from the door and up the stairs as quietly as she could. She was almost at the top when she heard someone opening the living room door. After a few seconds of steadying her breathing she turned and made her way back downstairs as though she had been in her room all along.
Peter was already in the hallway with the two policemen, and her parents were discussing who should accompany him to the police station.
‘I’m not bleedin’ going!’ her father hissed, out of earshot of the officers. ‘You brought him up so now you can go and fuckin’ sort things out.’
Shirley stared back at him, aghast, and Adele noticed the tramlines running down her face, which were evidence of her earlier tears. Adele knew her mother wouldn’t dare go against Tommy’s decision.
Shirley wavered momentarily near the living room door before turning back and grabbing her bottle of pills. She then pushed them inside her handbag, put on her shoes and coat, and went to join her son who was now inside the police car.
As the car sped up the street, Adele could feel her heart thudding inside her chest in anticipation of her father’s reaction. She stood in the hallway, waiting.
After a few moments he announced, ‘I’m going for a fuckin’ pint!’ and pushed past Adele as he stomped out of the house.
It was a nervous time for Adele as she waited for her family to return home. She switched on the old black and white TV. The screen flickered, so she picked up the indoor aerial and moved it around the room until the picture steadied. Then she watched a film; a musical that didn’t require much concentration and would help to take her mind off things.
Her father was the first to return. He was early; lunchtime opening hadn’t quite finished. She guessed that his early return was either due to lack of money or because he wanted to be there when Peter got home. She hoped it wasn’t the latter and a feeling of dread clutched her insides.
Unfortunately, he was in no better mood than when he had left. ‘What’s this load of shite you’re watching?’ he demanded.
It was obvious what the programme was so Adele ignored his remark. Instead she stood up. ‘It’s OK. I wasn’t really watching it,’ she said. ‘You can switch it over if you like. I need to do some studying.’
As she walked out of the room, he muttered to himself, ‘Dead right, I can fuckin’ switch it over.’ Then his voice rose as he shouted, ‘I paid for the fuckin’ thing! Course I can watch it.’
Adele hurried up the stairs, desperate to escape his anger. It was a while later when her mother and brother arrived home. Adele braced herself as she awaited her father’s reaction.
‘Here’s the little bastard!’ she heard him shout. This was followed by the sound of her mother screaming. Then her father continued to rant while Peter howled as though in pain.
Adele shot down the stairs and raced into the living room. The sight that met her was worse than anything she had ever witnessed. Her father was pummelling Peter with his fists while hurling insults and abuse at him. Meanwhile, her mother was crying and pleading with Tommy to ease up on Peter.
It was obvious to Adele that her mother’s pleas were having no effect whatsoever. Momentarily stunned, Adele stared at the distressing scene with her mouth agape as blood pumped from Peter’s nose. Then she came to her senses, taking a brave stance, in contrast with how she was feeling inside.
‘Dad, stop it. For God’s sake! You’ll kill him,’ she cried, noticing how bloody Peter’s face was becoming.
Peter had raised his hands in a vain attempt to protect himself but the might of his father’s fists broke through them.
‘Come on, Mam! We’ve got to stop him,’ she shouted.
Adele then ran towards her father, grabbing her mother and forcing her to join her. Between them they tried to shield Peter from him. But nothing could stop Tommy. His anger had become too intense. He took a swipe at Shirley, knocking her out of the way. Then he continued to throw punches. Most of them landed on Adele while her mother seemed to be avoiding them.
‘Run, Peter, run!’ Adele shouted.
Fortunately Peter took note of her words and escaped from the house just as a particularly vicious punch landed on the bridge of Adele’s nose. The pain shot through her, sending her dizzy. She tumbled to the ground, unable to get up for a few seconds. Through bleary eyes she watched her father stagger out of the room in pursuit of Peter. She prayed he didn’t catch him.
Several seconds later, Tommy was back. ‘Little bastard’s gone,’ he said. ‘Just wait till I get my fuckin’ hands on him!’
Adele’s heart was racing. As her father stepped towards her and her mother, she trembled with fear.
‘Shouldn’t have fuckin’ stopped me,’ he mumbled before sitting down and ordering Shirley to make him a cup of tea.
Shirley went willingly, leaving Adele alone with her father. Adele’s face was sore. She could feel the bruises starting to form and her left eyelid was closing with the swelling. Tommy looked at her and for a brief time she thought she detected the faintest sign of remorse on his face.
‘You shouldn’t have got in the way,’ he murmured before switching his focus to the television.
Adele got up slowly and went into the kitchen. The aftershock of her father’s brutal attack took a hold of her and she broke down in tears, sobbing convulsively until her whole body was shaking.
‘Oh, Adele love,’ her mother said, putting her arm around her and shedding her own tears. ‘You shouldn’t get in his way when he’s like that. Look at the state of your face.’
Shirley’s words sickened Adele. Why hadn’t she done something instead of standing by while her husband gave her son a savage beating? And why was she so accepting of his actions? It was wrong. What he did was wrong! And there was no way her mother should have condoned that kind of behaviour. What kind of mother was she? But Adele was too traumatised and angry to discuss things with her even though she was anxious to find out what had happened at the police station.
When Shirley left her alone while she went to take Tommy his cup of tea, Adele took several moments to compose herself before tending to her injuries. Then she slipped out of the back door in search of Peter. She needed to make sure he was OK, and she’d make sure she found out from him everything that had happened.