Sunday 21st March 2010
Mam was fuming when we got back from church today cos there was a big rip in my tights and apparently the whole congregation was staring at me. I don’t know why she even cares. We’re only going so they’ll tell the welfare people we’ve been. It’s not like God gives a toss about my laddered tights. He’s got bigger things to worry about, surely. She’s making me go every Sunday now – acting all holier than thou as if she’s not down the Swan with Big Tony twenty minutes after we’ve left. He’s such a weasel. (Big Tony, not God). Best to cover my back just in case he really is all-seeing (God, not Big Tony).
The only reason I even agreed to go to Church with Mam was cos Mrs. Stewart from down the road was giving out tea and biscuits at the end. She used to bring them into school on Fridays. She went mental at me and Martha once cos we hid all her packets of bourbons behind the ABC board. Silly cow. When we got home Mam gave me a right smacking for talking back to Big Tony. I didn’t even really do anything wrong but apparently, it’s not proper to tell someone they’re mucky in church. He had crumbs all over his beard though, he looked a right scrub. I think if you can’t eat a custard cream without the crumbs being round your mouth for a week afterwards then you shouldn’t be allowed a custard cream at all.
Anyway, I pretty much shut straight up after that. She whacked me so hard my arse was stinging when I sat down in the bath after tea. I got a bit of payback though cos Big Tony had a right mardy face on him the whole way back. He went straight to bed when we got back. Result. That did mean it was just me and a steaming Mam sitting watching reruns of The Chase in silence all night though. Not my biggest win ever.
Monday 22nd March 2010
Sat on a bit of chewing gum on the bus this morning so I spent tutor time scrounging through lost property for a new skirt. The only one left was really manky and too tight so I was cracking about school all day looking a right scruff. James Monroe told me as much in maths third period. Doesn’t help that my blazer is already two sizes too small so I’m sat in every class looking like a bodybuilder on steroids. Anyway, he kept chucking biros at the back of my head calling me a povvo and filthy laughing with all his rancid mates. I’m surprised he’s got any biros left the amount of time he spends throwing them around classrooms. Normally I don’t talk about Martha in school but I knew he’d shit himself if I mentioned her. I was right cos when I turned round in my seat and whispered that my sister was gonna bash his head in, his face went grey. Didn’t completely work though cos it made him upgrade to pelting rubbers and heavier ammo. He’s bitter cos she wouldn’t shag him in year eight. I remember her coming home from school in floods of tears telling me that he’d got her round the back of the bike sheds. Apparently, he spent the whole of morning break telling her how fit she was and how much he wanted to kiss her and when she pushed him off her he wouldn’t stop so she slapped him round his smarmy face. He spent weeks telling everyone she was a frigid virgin until she snogged his brother. That shut him up.
Nothing else really happened rest of today. Lunch was minging as per. The usual meat and mash combo, but at least it’s a variation from the constant beans and soup slop that Mam’s been palming off as tea recently.
I got a right lecture from Big Tony when I got home because apparently I’m “disrespectful of my mother” and I “don’t look after the things she works hard to pay for.” Tell me something I don’t know, Tony. Don’t know where he gets off telling me what to do either as if he’s not freeloading off Mam the whole time. Maybe he’s practicing for tomorrow when the welfare come round and he has to stop drinking for an hour and act like he’s not just shagging Mam for the free flat.
I’m worried Mam’s back on the powders cos she didn’t even seem to care about my skirt when she got back from work. She pushed straight past me when Tony told her I’d got it mucky and went straight to Martha’s room. When I peeked round the door she was just sat on Martha’s bed with this blank, dead stare. Was a bit unnerving actually cos she didn’t even notice the door creak when I accidentally pushed it too far open. She sat there for like twenty minutes until Tony came up and brought her a whiskey. Creepy. She’d better get her act together before tomorrow cos there’s no way I’m going back to Mrs. Carr’s shitty bungalow.
Thursday 25th March 2010
Non-uniform day for Children in Need today. Had to nick a pound from Big Tony’s manky spare jeans that are somehow always hanging next to the washer. They’re so ugly there’s not much point even washing them anymore I think. He really should just burn them instead. Anyway, I spent like twenty minutes trying to do my eyeliner with Mam’s broken pencil and ended up with bloodshot eyes cos I’d rubbed it off so many times. Ended up looking even shitter than when I started but by then I was late so I had to shift my arse or I’d miss the bus. Martha used to smudge her eyes out with this brush that she found in the bathroom cupboard. I’ve no idea where it went but I feel like if I had that I’d be able to do it just like her.
Manky Lewis sat next to me on the bus so I was huffing up his onion breath all the way to school this morning. Who eats onions at seven in the morning? We’re not in France or wherever the hell they eat that shite for breakfast. I got to school with my eyes watering from a combo of Mam’s out-of-date eyeliner and Manky Lewis’ rancid breath. Not my best look.
Forgot my English homework first period so I got a bollocking for that as well. That was on me though cos I forgot about it completely when the welfare people came round. It’s cos I was so stressed about hiding Big Tony’s empties. He made me go all the way down the Swan to dump his Jack Daniels bottles in their outside bin. Which obviously took forever and I was shitting myself to be back before six in case they came early. He’s such an idiot honestly. But I didn’t want another smacking so I hauled my arse to the Swan and back three times. Martha would never take that kind of cheek from Big Tony. Welfare would know all about the filthy stuff he gets up to if she was here. Wish I had her backbone, even if it does get her in trouble.
Anyway.
Mental Morrison put me in an isolation for my homework cos it’s the third one I’ve missed in a row. He’s such a prick. Like, yeah I might have forgot a few homework assignments but at least I don’t reek of desperation. Martha told me that he once got caught fiddling down his pants in the sports cupboard outside their P.E. class. Apparently, when Jenna James caught him she told on him to Mrs. Stevens but she never believed her. Filthy pervert. (Mr. Morrison, not Mrs. Stevens).
Had to sit in the isolation office all day. They wouldn’t even let me leave for lunch, just brought the mash and meat straight to me. It was so boring but at least it meant I’d caught up on my homework by the end of period five. No more Morrison bollockings for me this week.
When I got home Big Tony was at the Swan (surprise surprise) and Mam was conked out on the good sofa so I went upstairs and sat on Martha’s bed. Felt so weird just going in. Martha never used to let anyone in without knocking. It’s so creepy in there cos no one ever moves anything. Even Big Tony never touches her stuff. When I was sat on her bed I remembered that she keeps all her baby stuff under there in that big plastic crate that she found near the offy. I got Mr. Pink out and took him back to my room. He smells like Martha. Think it’s cos he’s been shut up in that plastic box so long. Fair’s fair on the robbing front though. She nicked him off me first when I was four.
Friday 26th March 2010
When I went downstairs this morning Mam had a face like a smacked arse. She was fuming cos apparently Ellen from next door has been knocking on all morning pestering her cos I’ve been ‘nicking strawberries from her front garden.’ It’s her own fault for growing strawberries in the center of Bootle. She seems to think she’s in bloody Pride and Prejudice or some bollocks the way she cracks about. ‘Course, I swore down I never touched her flamin’ strawberries. Think I took it too far though cos I swore on Martha’s life which sent Mam right into the red. If we’re being honest, Martha’s nicked way worse than strawberries, so I really don’t think she’d care about being swore on.
I got on the bus pretty quick after that whole debacle and left Mam to deal with Ellen. I’m probably gonna have to write an apology letter or some shite now. And it will be a letter as well, not an email, Ellen’s bloody ancient.
When I got to tutor James Monroe came and sat right behind me and started chucking stuff at my head again. He’s absolutely got it in for me recently for some reason. I’d look terrible bald the amount of bruises that are probably on my head. He took it too far today cos he wrote me a note that made me so fuming I wanted to turn round and smack him in his ugly face. I’ve glued it in here.
“Only reason your sister run away was to git away from youre clapped face.”
I was steaming but I couldn’t say anythin’ cos I could feel my eyes stinging and there was no way I was gonna let him see me cry. The bastard. Also, I really don’t think I could of got away with blaming my tears on Manky Lewis’ breath two days in a row. James is such a stupid prick honestly. If I was gonna make a habit of writing arsey notes I’d at least learn to spell. I’m gonna show his nasty little letter to Martha when she gets back. I hope she knocks his block off this time.
The rest of school was pretty okay. James and co. aren’t in my history and science so got a bit of peace after lunch. Thank God.
Managed to get through the season finale of Big Brother uninterrupted when I got home cos Mam and Big Tony were down the Swan. I’d put all bets on they’ve been there since I left for school. There’s no way Ellen would be caught dead in there so it’s the only place they’re safe from her whining. They didn’t get back ‘till midnight and when they did Big Tony was absolutely off his face. Felt like the whole house was shaking the way he was hammering on the door. He’s so dramatic honestly. Acting like I’m going to have fell back asleep after he’s rung the house phone four thousand times on the way home checking if I’m awake to let them in. Maybe bring your keys next time mate? Prick.
Anyway, I’m going to sleep now I’m absolutely knackered.
Monday 28th March 2010
Woke up with my head banging this morning cos I barely slept. Next door were at it again all night. Bangin’ around smashing stuff ‘till two in the mornin’. All I’m sayin’ is if you’re gonna go round makin’ a racket, do it away from the shared wall. I’m scared he’s gonna put her through that wall one day the way he gets on.
Anyway, once I’d come round I went and got some paracetamol out the bathroom cupboard. Had to reach over the rancid sink to get to them which didn’t help the headache one bit. Big Tony’s managed to spread his manky hairs all over it with his beard shaver. They’ve been there all week but there’s no way I’m cleaning them up even though they make me heave. Wouldn’t catch me dead picking up after anyone.
When I went downstairs Mam was asleep on the settee in the exact same position she was in when I went to bed last night. I genuinely don’t know how she does it. She looks like she’s in a coma when she sleeps. When me and Martha were little we used to roll Mam on her side on the sofa and pretend she was the patient for our doctors game. Martha had a little plastic stethoscope and everything.
I left her sleeping so I could have my breakfast in peace.
Wasn’t too peaceful though cos when I went to put milk in my Frosties it was all rancid and lumpy. Turned my stomach so badly I ended up just sacking off breakfast altogether.
When I got to school Mental Morrison was banging on about who he wants to be in the school play. Apparently, he thinks Ellie Williams would be perfect as Juliet cos she looks the part. Yeah. I’m sure Juliet was also wearing Velcro rollers and a Juicy Couture handbag to her Nine AM English lit class. Fits the role to a T.
It’s not like anyone ever comes to watch anyway. They just always end up hauling half of year nine in to watch as an ‘audience’ cos they can’t sell enough tickets.
The rest of school was fine. James Monroe was off ill today and none of them lot dare speak to me without him there. So at least there was that.
When I got home Mam and Tony were sat watching the Chase in the front room but I could see Big Tony had the whiskey out so I just went straight to my room.
Didn’t do much the rest of the day apart from nick a few more of Ellen’s strawberries. Silly old bat.
Tuesday 29th March 2010
Woke up knackered again cos of the neighbors slammin’ about all night. Might start banging on the wall first thing in the mornin’. See how they like that.
Went downstairs in foul mood cos I forgot to go the offy for milk last night which meant no breakfast for the second day in a row.
When I got downstairs Mam was on the good sofa again. It took me a sec to realize something was off cos I couldn’t see from the bottom of the stairs. But when I went all the way into the living room I could see her properly. She was crying her eyes out and there was two whiskey bottles shoved down the back of the settee and smudges of powder on the arm of Big Tony’s chair.
I’ve not seen her cry since the day Martha ran off with her fella. I didn’t really know what to say so I just sort of patted her on the head and said that I’d make her a cuppa.
When I went into the kitchen there was a man and a woman in there talking to Big Tony. I knew who it was straight away cos welfare people always talk right posh.
Big Tony looked like he was about to explode into a million pieces the way he was waving his arms round and shouting. He was being so aggressive that the welfare woman told him that if he didn’t calm down, she’d have to restrain him.
The welfare bloke came over to me and started telling me what the next steps for the family were and that I wasn’t safe here anymore. What the hell does he know about my safety? Coming in surprise attacking us all.
They’ve come in acting all holier than thou as if whiskey and a tiny bit of sniff is gonna kill two grown-ups.
He was talking to me like I’m some sort of baby, telling me what I can do and where I’m gonna be staying in the interim. Whatever that means. Every time I asked what was gonna happen to Mam though he wouldn’t tell me a thing. Just shows how much they actually care about the next steps for the family. Bloody welfare.
I really didn’t know what to do but I did know that Satan would be pissing ice before I went back to Mrs. Carr’s.
So I booked it straight past Mr. Welfare bloke and legged it as fast as I possibly could down Raleigh Street. Got to the docks before I had to stop for breath. Mental Morrison’s P.E. lessons have finally been useful for something.
That’s where I’m sat now and I’m bricking it cos it’s getting dark now. I don’t really know where to go. I can’t go home cos they’ll be fumin’ at me for running off but I’m worried I’ll end up at the bottom of the docks if I sleep here.
I wonder where Martha went when she ran off.
I reckon if I keep on walking, I’ll find her.
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
2 comments
I love this so much. I would read books and books of your writing!
Reply
What a great story! I loved how it was told through the eyes of a very British teen,using the local vernacular. Her POV as compared to that of the Social workers about her living conditions was an interesting contrast. Who knows what really goes in behind closed doors?
Reply