Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Rosie

I’ll come down.

Those were the three words I sent before I got dressed and prepared myself. I didn’t know how it would go, or how tempers might escalate, or how the hell she’d react to me, but despite my stomach churning and nerves making my hands shake, I knew that I had to be truthful. On every level.

Julian was at my side as I brushed my hair in the mirror. “Are you absolutely certain you don’t want me to come with you? You only have to say the word.”

That sentiment meant so much, but I shook my head with a smile, turning into his arms for a hug.

“Thank you, but I’ll do this alone. I’ll be back up when I’m done, don’t worry.”

His eyes were so beautiful, so loving. “I hope that’s a pinky promise.”

“It’s more than a pinky promise, I promise,” I said.

And then I braced myself. Time to do it.

“Call me if you need me,” Julian said then dropped a kiss on my forehead.

“I will.”

And then he let me go.

My heart was racing and my hands were trembling as I descended the stairs.

I opened our front door and stepped inside without the pretence of a bag full of things. I wasn’t going to be pretending I was leaving Jenny and returning home.

Mum was waiting for me, sitting on the sofa without her phone in her hands for once. I could see she’d been crying. A lot. Her eyes were puffy and red, and I got a stab of guilt in the heart. I’d seen Mum struggling with her emotions to breaking point plenty of times before, but it wasn’t usually down to me. I was always the one trying to help her, not hurt her.

Her attention was all on me as I dropped myself down in the armchair.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Mum said. “Jenny is the man upstairs? Julian?”

I wasn’t going to deny it, despite the pain in her eyes.

“Yeah, Jenny is Julian. She’s been Julian from the start.”

“I can’t believe this,” she said, and the tears started up again.

I had the urge to say I was sorry, but I wasn’t sorry. Julian was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I didn’t rush over to help her through her tears.

I kept quiet as she tried to calm her breaths. I waited until she was ready to speak again.

“You’ve been fucking Julian? For weeks?” she said, more tears threatening. “And you didn’t even think of telling me? Why the hell not? Why would you do this? Why would you be with him?! It’s fucking sick, Rosie. SICK!”

I clasped my hands together, stayed steady.

“I didn’t want to tell anyone about any of it. It’s between me and him, not the whole of Worcester. I’m sure it’s been shouted from the rooftops by now, though. Thanks to Trisha.”

“Trisha cares!” Mum shouted. “She cares about you! That’s why she’s so bothered! That’s the fucking reason she went to the Brewery Tavern and asked the questions about him in the first place! Because she fucking CARES!”

Shit. That made things more complicated. I knew Julian had confessed a load of trash in there when he was wasted and alone. I should have known Trisha would head down there and milk it dry.

“TRISHA CARES!” Mum yelled again. “That’s why they told her! They told her everything. EVERYTHING!”

I could imagine her there, bitching at the bar, digging for yet more gossip and ammo. I hated the thought of her smug face. I couldn’t help but sneer.

“Yeah, sure Trisha gives a shit. Right. Yeah, whatever.”

“SHE DOES!”

I took a deep breath and shook my head. This time I was going to hold my ground.

“If Trisha really cared and had been there for me, US, when we needed her, I wouldn’t have knocked on Julian’s door in the first place.”

Mum looked like she’d been slapped. Like I’d insulted her, not her best friend.

“Oh right, so this is Trisha’s fault now, is it? It’s Trisha’s fault you opened your legs for a pervert, despite my fucking warnings. That makes you as sick as him!”

I managed to laugh at that. “Julian isn’t sick, or a pervert. The people in the pub can say what they like, and Trisha can twist it all she wants, but he isn’t a sicko, Mum. It’s just stupid.”

I shrugged at just how dumb this saga was turning out, because it was stupid. It was like being in a playground.

“You think this is funny, do you?” Mum said. “You’re telling me, that you, my fucking daughter, is fucking a dirty old pervert, and you think it’s fucking funny? Do I look like I’m finding it funny? Don’t be a stupid cow, Rosie. Don’t fucking laugh at me.”

Here it was again. Mum making this about her, and her pain, and her disappointment, and how shit she felt inside. Normally it would be fine. She has a shitty past, and shitty people around her, and is always hurting, and I would always, ALWAYS try to help her. But not tonight. Not in this. I wasn’t going to back down.

“Actually, I do think it’s funny,” I told her. “It’s so stupid it is funny. You don’t know him. I’ve found out he’s the opposite of a sicko, thanks. He’s not a dirty old pervert, and I know it, first hand.”

She didn’t give my words even the slightest bit of respect.

“You think you know it all, as fucking usual. And that’s because you’re just a fucking kid and don’t know any better. He’s taking advantage of you! He’s been grooming you to be a little plaything, and you’re not the first. He’s been doing it to LOADS of girls! LOADS! That’s why he came here in the first fucking place! He’s on the run. A dirty fucking criminal.”

I had to pull a face. “A criminal? On the run from who?”

“The police!”

I had to shake my head again at the fucking stupidity.

“You think Julian is on the run from the police? Seriously? Are you for real?”

Jesus, the people at the pub really were gossiping. Every time stuff got whispered ear to ear by drunk, stupid mouths the claims got more ridiculous.

Mum was looking at me like I was a total fucking idiot.

“You’re a kid! You’re just too young to see! I should call the police myself to get him arrested. I might, you know. I might!”

That was too much for me. I was just a kid now, was I? Shame I wasn’t just a kid when I should have been one. I wasn’t just a kid when it was me picking up the pieces of drama, hurt, betrayal and unpaid bills. And she wanted to call the police now? Really? Due to rumours about a guy she didn’t even know rather than the guy who actually beat the shit out of people? Who beat the shit out of her?

“It’s YOU who’s talking shit now!” I said, as my hurt flamed up into rage. “Maybe you should be the one to grow the fuck up around here! Have you ever thought about that?!”

She opened her mouth like I was a criminal myself.

“Sorry, what?! What did you just say to me?”

She knew exactly what I’d just said to her. I found the strength to meet her eyes.

“I’m not a kid, Mum. Don’t pretend I am. I know who I am, and I know what I’m doing, and if you want to accept it and listen to me for once and not fucking Trisha then that’s great. I’ll love it, but if you don’t, then you don’t. Your choice.”

Her eyes were still so hurt.

“My choice about what? You’re going to choose a sicko criminal over me, are you?!”

That was it. The red hot poker in the wound. I got up from my seat, my own tears springing up as my finger jabbed in her direction.

“POT FUCKING KETTLE! You’ve been choosing a sicko criminal over me for YEARS! You’ve been choosing sicko criminals over me since I really was a little kid!”

It was too much. The hurt overflowed. I didn’t want to be there.

I walked away, storming over to my bedroom, and I pulled out the big old suitcase from under my bed, tossing my stuff in there, on a fucking mission.

Mum appeared in the doorway with wide eyes.

“Where are you going?”

“Where do you think?”

“You’re going up there? To him?”

“YES! To Julian. Think he’s a sicko all you like, I don’t care. It’s not as if you ever care what I think in return.”

“You’re being crazy! Stop it. You’re out of your fucking head.”

“No, I’m not.” I sounded so resolute because I was. I was still throwing things in my case, even a stash of shitty costume jewellery from my bedside drawer. “I’m probably in my head for the first time in my life.”

“No. You’re not! Listen to me! I’m your mum!”

Damnit. I didn’t want any more arguing. I didn’t want to have to bluster out explanations, or bullshit excuses that didn’t need to be made. It wouldn’t make any difference. We were done here. The only regret I had was that I wished it had been me who’d broken the news before Trisha started spouting shit, but that was Trisha all over. One look at Mum’s face as she stood in my doorway put that thought to bed, though. She wouldn’t listen to me in a million years. She’d probably call Trisha up the second I was out of there, and they could bitch together over a bottle of wine while Mum cried. Me and Julian could both be the bad guys to their self-righteousness.

I zipped my case up, full. The rest of my stuff would have to wait for another day. I lugged the bulky suitcase from the bed with my teeth gritted, barging right past her on the way to the front door. But no. Not yet. I had something to give her first.

I grabbed my keys from my pocket and threw them over to land at her feet. I wouldn’t be needing them anymore.

Mum knew that I was serious then. I had more strength than I’d ever had in my life. She picked up the keys and stared at them in her hand, horrified.

“You do know he’s taking advantage of you, right?” She tried again. “It’s so obvious. He’s an asshole! A sick asshole! I’m trying to protect you! I’m trying!”

Yeah. As if.

Maybe in her deluded version of the world and what was going down here, she was trying, but in mine she was talking shit. I couldn’t take it anymore.

The front door was open. The case was in my hand, and I was almost out of there. Almost. The tears were springing, and my heart was pumping, and the rage was swirling, and I wanted to be upstairs with Julian. I wanted to be out of that place. But I waited, just a moment. I shot Mum one more glance with tears in my eyes. Time for the final pieces of truth now.

“Julian wasn’t an asshole when he pulled Scottie off you to save your life. And he wasn’t an asshole when he saved me from the piece of shit, too.” My eyes must have been so cold. “Enjoy your time with Trisha. I’ll be upstairs with the man who saved me from the true sicko around here. I hope Scottie burns in hell.”

I stepped forward. I was ready.

“Wait, what?” she asked. “What’s this got to do with Scottie?”

The case was in my hand. My feet were ready, but they wouldn’t move.

“Scottie would have pulled himself together,” she said, “We argue. Just like any other couple. It’s me as well as him. Yeah, Julian helped me, which was nice, but Scottie was trying to do better, and he would have done. He’s doing great since he’s been in Scotland. He means well. There are two sides to every story, Rosie.”

It was too much. I couldn’t hold back any longer.

“BULLSHIT!” I yelled. “That’s absolute BULLSHIT, Mum! Scottie is a piece of shit who should have fucked off long ago! He’d still be here causing shit and fucking you over if it wasn’t for Julian. And he’d be fucking ME over, too! He’d be fucking ME over, just like you, if it wasn’t for Julian saving me!”

The memory hit me hard again. The memory of him pinning me to the bed and threatening me in the dark, and it was horrible. Vile. Disgusting. Like he was. Scottie was disgusting. He was a cunt, as Julian rightly said.

My eyes met Mum’s and she saw my pain.

“It’s not just you Scottie was a cunt to, Mum! Not at the end!”

“Scottie fucking you over? What do you mean?” she asked. “Scottie and I had our arguments, sure, but he wouldn’t fuck you over, Rosie. It’s about me and him, not you. He loves you!”

My own tears came then, along with hysterical laughter. I should have walked. I wanted to. But my feet still wouldn’t move. I was frozen to the spot. It was me covering my face with my hands this time. Broken.

“Scottie doesn’t love anyone,” I sobbed. “I knocked on Julian’s door more than once, you know, and that was for a reason. It was for a REASON!”

“What?” She paused, keys still in her hand. “I don’t get it. What reason?”

I tipped my head back, wishing the tears would go away.

“Talk to me,” Mum said. “Rosie, seriously. You’d better start talking to me. What is this about Scottie? What did he do?”

I could have collapsed on the floor in front of her, hating how my feelings ran wild inside me, twisting and stabbing. I managed to spit my words out, barely audible through the tears.

“Scottie threatened me. Your boyfriend came into my bedroom and pinned me down while you were waiting for him in the room next door. He told me he’d fuck me up as well as you if I even dared to stand up to him. He said we’d both pay the price, me AND you! He meant it, Mum! He was going to hurt both of us! He’s the sicko. Not Julian. Scottie is the fucking sicko.”

Her mind was struggling to keep up with me. Her eyes wide.

“What? Before he went to Scotland? But things were good then. He couldn’t… he wouldn’t…”

My voice choked as I spoke.

“He’s not in Scotland,” I told her. “He ran away, finally kicked in the ass by someone who had the power to stop him! And thank fuck for that! Julian’s not on the run, Mum. Scottie is!”

“But of course he’s in Scotland… with his job…” she began, but then she stopped. Her expression changed as she looked at me. My stare was steady, my truth holding firm.

“He was going to hurt me,” I said again, more quietly this time. “I swear to you, Mum, he was going to hurt me. I ran to Julian because I had nowhere else to go. He saved you twice and saved me, too. You just didn’t know it. I didn’t tell you.”

She was shaking her head in shock.

“No… it can’t be… no way. Just no way.”

My eyes must have been so honest. I hated myself as I saw how hurt she was.

“It’s true,” I told her. “Scottie threatened me. It was Julian who saved me, and Julian who chased him away.”

The keys fell to the floor as she took her hair in her hands.

“Why?! Why the fuck wouldn’t you have told me that?! That’s crazy! Fucking crazy!”

I kept as calm as I could, letting my words sink in.

“It’s crazy, but it’s true. I’m not lying and you know it. I know you know it. You know him.”

“This is crazy insane,” Mum said. “If that’s true–”

“It is true,” I said. “Scottie was going to hurt me. And you.”

I watched her eyes register my words, and yeah, she did know it. It was sinking in.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have protected you myself! My God, Rosie, if he’d have hurt you, I’d have killed him. I’d have torn him to pieces! I’d have stabbed him, right in the fucking throat!”

I closed my eyes, struggling.

“Yeah, really? You think so?” I couldn’t hold back my hurt. “You know what he told me when he pinned me down? He said you’d have believed him and not me. He said he knew what your choice would be. And I knew it, too. That’s why I had to go to the man upstairs.”

“That’s BULLSHIT!”

“IS IT?” I met her stare again.

She looked so shocked.

“YES! If I’d have thought for ONE SECOND he was going to hurt you, I’d have killed him. I swear to fucking God!”

“You mean that? For real?”

She nodded, frantic. Eyes still wide.

“Yes! OF COURSE I MEAN THAT! YOU’RE MY FUCKING DAUGHTER!”

I had to wipe my tears away with my cuff.

“You should be thanking Julian then, not hating him, because he’s the one who would have killed Scottie. He threatened him in the hall downstairs, and told him if he didn’t fuck off, he’d put a knife in his ribs. THAT’S the man you think is taking advantage of me. The one who cares about me enough to risk putting himself in jail for the rest of his life, just to keep me safe! People can whisper all they want about him, about his past and his sicko ways, but they are all full of utter crap. They don’t know him!”

Mum was silent, so I carried on. I let it flow. I let my heart run free.

“Julian treats me like I’m worth something. He treats me like I light up his world. He treats me like I AM his world. And I’ve never seen that before. I’ve never seen it in this shithole of an estate, and I’ve never seen it in one single shit relationship in this apartment. I’ve seen people who claimed they loved you, but have they fuck. And Scottie was the worst of all!” I had to take a breath. “So don’t you dare criticise Julian! DON’T YOU DARE!”

The passion in my words seemed to stun her. She stared at me, mute.

“I’m in love with him,” I told her. “I don’t care what anyone thinks or says about it. I’m in love with him, and I want to be with him. That’s not going to change. Trisha, or Martha, or Bertie, or anyone in this block, or anyone on this fucking estate, or in the Brewery Tavern can say what they like, I don’t care. Nothing is going to change!”

She slumped against the wall at that, her fire burnt out.

“My God,” she said. “You should have told me. About everything.”

I knew then that she believed me about Scottie. I knew she believed me. She closed her eyes and I waited, letting her brain catch up with the outburst.

“And Julian loves you back, does he?” she said. “That’s what he claims, is it? That he loves you?”

“He doesn’t claim he loves me. He does love me.”

She changed her approach. “He’s got to be at least thirty years older than you.”

I sighed. “So? Who cares?”

“He must care. He should do.”

“He did care, before he listened to me and believed I was aware of my own mind, and my own thoughts, and was able to make my own decisions on what the hell I wanted.” I dared to push it. “I’m asking you to do the same, Mum. Listen to me. Thirty years or not. I don’t care.”

“People say he’s filthy, a pervert… they say he cheated on his wife, and fucked loads of young girls, and did disgusting things to them.”

“There are a few tiny bits of truth in a whole load of lies. People can say what they like. I love being with him.”

“People say he fucked his family over and left them behind! That’s not ok!”

“People don’t know him. Maybe you should get to know him yourself before you judge. You can ask him the questions yourself, rather than listening to bullshit.”

“I can’t believe this…” she said, shaking her head. “I just can’t believe it.”

“You’d better start believing it, Mum, because I’m not leaving him. I don’t want to be without him, not for anything. I mean it. I’m going upstairs. Choose to listen, or don’t, but I’ll be going back up there tonight.”

I was a different Rosie than the innocent, scared little girl she’d always known. The contrast in my own strength was enough to make my heart soar, despite the pain, and it was Julian who’d enabled that in me. I could have thanked him for all time, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“You’ve been staying with him? Upstairs? This whole time?” she asked, and I nodded.

“Yeah. Constantly.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t know. It was so fucking obvious.”

I opted for more honesty. “You’ve been so busy dreaming up plans with Scottie that you didn’t give a shit where I was. If you had, maybe you’d have figured it out.”

“Stop it!” she said, but she didn’t deny it. She cursed to herself.

“Tell me it’s not true,” I pushed. “Go on. Tell me you’ve been thinking about me, really keen to know who Jenny is. I haven’t seen it. You haven’t even called.”

“I didn’t suspect a thing!”

My tears sprang up again, even through my strength.

“Scottie’s had you on puppet strings, just like usual. He’s been dangling you, lost to everything in the world but how fucking great he is.”

I saw the rage on her face at that.

“Scottie is a cunt. He’s dead to me now.”

I blew out a breath, not knowing whether to believe her or not.

“He is,” she went on. “He’s a cunt who should be strung up for what he did to you.”

“He’s a cunt who should be strung up even more for what he did to YOU.”

She didn’t shrug it off with a just a temper or arguments comeback. She nodded. She agreed with me. For once in my life, she actually agreed with me.

We stood in silence. I still had the door open, paused to leave. But I didn’t. I didn’t move my feet.

“Julian would have really killed him? He meant it?” Mum asked, finally, and there was just the faintest hint of approval in her eyes.

“Yeah, he would have. I’d bet my life on it.”

She was still leaning against the wall, and the silence between us was deafening, but it wasn’t horrible anymore. There was a sad closeness in it. And I dared to hope. I dared.

I risked it. I asked her.

“Will you get to know him? Can you accept me being in love with him?”

She was crying again. I saw her battle, and I got it. From the outside it would look horrendous, with all the gossip and bitching about him, and me being a young girl on the arm of someone three decades older than me, but I prayed she would try. I prayed she would at least give it a chance.

But she couldn’t. She took a breath before she answered me. My heart fell through the floor as I saw the hurt in her eyes.

“I can’t. I don’t want to speak to him, and I don’t want to see you with him, and nothing is ever going to change that. Not ever. He’s not your boyfriend, Rosie. He’s a guy who likes to play dirty games with vulnerable girls like you.” Her tears fell, but her jaw tightened. “Don’t go up there. Stay here with me. We’ll work things out, no Scottie, you don’t need the dirty prick upstairs.”

My jaw tightened too.

“I don’t need him, I want him because I love him. And if you can’t accept that…”

“I won’t accept that.”

My heart was swimming in the depths but I took hold of my suitcase again and my feet finally moved for me.

“You know where to find me if you change your mind,” I said and closed the door behind me.