‘If yer make one sound … If yer make one move,’ Raymond hissed into Rosie’s ear.
His left hand was over her mouth.
Suffocating her.
His right hand gripped her neck.
‘If yer try ’n get away, or shout fer help – ’
Rosie could feel the full weight of his body pressing down on her. He wasn’t big, but he was strong.
‘ – I swear t’God, I’ll get straight off yer ’n go ’n do what I’m about to do to you to that little sister of yers next door.’
Raymond saw the fear in Rosie’s eyes and his excitement increased.
‘And dinnit think you’ll be able to stop me, ’cos …’ he breathed heavily and deliberately into her ear ‘ … I’ll punch yer so hard in the head, you’ll be out fer the count fer as long as it takes me to have my fill with young Charlotte there.’ He cocked his head towards the wall.
Rosie could feel his growing fervour and gagged involuntarily.
‘Understand?’
She inhaled his rancid breath laced with whisky.
‘Understand?’ His grip around her neck tightened.
Rosie nodded.
For the next twenty minutes Rosie lay there, eyes fixed on the ceiling of her bedroom, not daring to move. Hardly daring to breathe.
The only way to keep the screams at bay and the bile from rising up was to cut off her mind from what was happening to her body.
To make herself numb.
Totally numb.
When Raymond had finally satisfied his perversions, he lifted himself off Rosie.
A single bead of sweat dropped from his forehead onto Rosie’s face and she flinched, instinctively trying to shake it off but failing. Instead, it merged with the tears that were rolling silently down her cheeks.
Rosie watched, her body trembling though still immobile, as her uncle pulled up his trousers and fastened his belt.
She took short, shallow breaths, her eyes following him as he turned to leave.
He reached the bedroom door, then turned his head sharply. His dark eyes fixed on her as he slowly raised his hand to the corner of his mouth and pulled an imaginary zip across his thin, dry lips.
And then he was gone.
Rosie sat up, her senses on high alert, straining to hear the sound of his footsteps going down the stairs – and not to her sister’s room.
Clambering out of bed, she grabbed a jagged piece of rock she’d found on the beach and had kept because she liked the way the crystals embedded in it glinted in the sunlight. Every sinew of her body wanted to run after him and smash him on the back of the head – pummel him to death.
But she dare not take the risk. If she didn’t succeed, she knew he would kill her.
But worse still, she knew he would carry out his threat and do to Charlotte what he had just done to her.
And that was something Rosie was never going to let happen.
Ever.