The Stepfather

He scratched at the fold of his belly.  A trail of dribble slipped from the corner of his mouth.  Jo could almost hear the nausea gurgle in her stomach as she watched him stretch.  He reminded her of an enormous Gorilla and she half expected him to pummel his chest.

“Remember what will happen if you tell anybody,” he said, the stench of stale beer and used ashtrays came from his decay-filled mouth. His body cast monstrous shadows across the doorway. “Tomorrow we will try something new my beauty, I love you.”

His parting words filled the veins of her sore body with ice.  Jo wrapped the squidgy quilt tightly around her shoulders.  She shivered as the tears tumbled from her eyes.  The lingering, acrid odour of foul sweat and lust made the vomit rise in the back of her throat.  When the key turned in the front door she yanked the quilt over her head.  Her mum hummed a tune as she plodded up the stairs.  Jo bit hard on the quilt, trying to muffle her sobs and hoped the dark warmth would be a refuge for a little while.  Why didn’t you come home ten minutes earlier? The thought cruised through the turmoil in her mind.

Ian, her stepfather, had been coming to her room while her mother worked the two till ten shift at the local supermarket, since she was thirteen.  His terrifying threats guaranteed her silence.  Splashing sounds came from the bathroom.  Jo thought of the engrained filth of his hands and the disgusting stench of blocked waste pipes and body odour that emanated from his body when he punished her.  Although she hated him she couldn’t help feeling a weird jealousy.  He cleans himself for her.

The laughter from the adjoining bedroom made Jo realise no matter what she told her mum she would never believe her.  On the few occasions she broached the subject a balled fist would swipe her in the mouth.  Lily Marsden flirted openly with Ian from the first day he came to unblock the drain and within weeks he moved in.  Money on tap since their marriage, her mum certainly wasn’t going to rock the boat because of a trouble-making teenager.

Amy, her little sister, would be thirteen in two weeks. The idea he would do the same to her made Jo’s flesh creep and gave her the strength she needed to approach her mum one last time.

*****

“Mum, don’t go to work tonight,” Jo said, praying her mum would listen.

“What a stupid thing to say,” Lily said, taking another bite of burnt toast, a drizzle of melted butter slipped down her chin.

“Please mum, please don’t go.” Jo stood in front of the television, forcing her mothers gaze.

“What is up with you, you stupid girl?”

“It’s Ian, mum, he…he does things.” Fat tears threatened to spill down her freckled cheeks.

“What things? What are you talking about?”

“Dirty things mum, he…” crack! The back-hander stung her cheek, but the opal cluster ring caused the spray of blood from her split lip.

“You evil, vile girl.  Ian has told me time and again how bad you are.  How you play up when I’m not here.  I would never believe you would stoop this low.  How could you?” she roared.

“M…mum no, it’s true, mum I’m not lying he comes to my room…”

Lily grabbed Jo by her unruly blonde hair and shoved her through the doorway.  She swiped the side of her head and pushed her on to the stairs.  Jo curled into a ball, her hands clasped over her head.

“Get out of my sight, you’re jealous that I have someone other than you kids.  Get to your room.  I can’t bear to look at you.”

Jo glanced at her grotesque twisted mouth before darting up stairs two at a time.  She knew once and for all her mother was never going to help her, and as the thought passed something snapped inside her.  Not a noisy, crisp snap which could be heard, but the silent twang of invisible twine of love that bound her to her mother.  Thoughts re-arranged themselves in her mind, like filed documents in order of importance…

*****

Mrs Johnson, from the house opposite, caught Jo’s attention as she peered out of her bedroom window.  I bet she would protect her kids she thought, remembering the way the plump woman set about Jimmy Davies with the yard broom for stealing Louise’s lunch money.  Her eyes followed the woman as she walked towards the corner of the street. Amy came around the corner and stopped to chat to Mrs Johnson. Jo flew down the stairs and threw the door open. The swing forced a couple of screws from the hinge.

“Amy. Amy. Get in here now!” Jo knew if everything were to fall in place she had to get Amy away from the house.  The ring-ring of the phone interrupted her frantic thoughts. Jo stared at the slimline grey demon, shouting at her to answer the persistent tone.

“Hello,” her soft voice quavered. She focused on the photograph of her real dad hanging over the shabby chip-board table.
“I will be home at eight Jo, make me some ham and chips there’s my good girl.  I’m just having a few drinks with the boys. You, me and Amy will have some fun when I get in. I have bought you both presents.”

Jo trembled when she replaced the receiver.  I must get Amy away tonight…

“What’s up?” Amy said, handing Jo the brown envelope. “You’re in trouble for not turning up at school, again.”

“Don’t worry about school,” Jo said, throwing the envelope on the table. “Can you stay at Meg’s tonight?”
Amy flashed a smile at her sister. The freckles sprinkled on her face seemed to dance in front of Jo’s eyes.

“Why? I would love to…but I will get in trouble with Ian. You know what he’s like, ”Amy said, the initial excitement in her voice drifted to sorrow.

Jo gazed into the almond shaped sapphire eyes that mirrored hers. The sad glint dulling the vibrant colour was unmistakeable.  Amy knew what Ian did to her.  Fighting to hold in the sob that threatened to escape, she pulled her into her arms.  She squeezed her tight against her chest.  Jo sniffed at her shiny bronze hair like a lion would one of her cubs.

“Amy, don’t ask questions, don’t worry about Ian or mum come to that, but get your stuff and go to Meg’s.  Under no circumstances come back, do you understand me?”

“B..But?”

“Amy, trust me, okay, you must trust me.  I promise he will never, ever, touch you.” Jo kissed her then shooed her up the stairs.

*****

Ian stumbled through to the kitchen his familiar stench preceding him.  He slumped on the leather sofa by the back door.  His filthy grey overalls burst open from the waist.  Jo couldn’t believe he had actually gone to the pub looking and smelling as he did. A breakfast bar divided the large kitchen into two separate areas.  Jo placed a bowl of peeled potatoes beside the cooker and hooked some tea towels on the handle of the oven door.

“Where’s Amy?” He slurred, “I need a drink.”

“She’s gone to Meg’s to pick up her jumper,” Jo said, rooting round in the oak cupboard over the sink for the bottle of whisky.  “I will get you one.”

“Bloody hurry up then, cos I am feeling a bit anxious if you get my meaning,” he said, rubbing at his crotch.

She poured the amber liquid into the hi-ball glass. Jo kept a watchful eye on Ian as she reached behind the teapot for her mums sleeping tablets that she had crushed earlier. The powder sunk to the bottom of the glass.  She gave the drink a good stir before topping off with ginger ale.

“What’s taking so long?” he said, flopping his hands palm upwards in the air as Jo handed him the cocktail. “Oh, okay.” Ian swallowed the liquid in one gulp.  The empty glass slid out of his grasp and shattered when it hit the floor. Jo, worried he might vomit, didn’t attempt to pick up the broken glass.

Ian fished his cigarettes out of his pocket.  Amazed at her calmness Jo stifled a laugh as he fumbled with his lighter. The deep rooted fear seemed to have  melted away. Jo felt detached,  like an outsider looking in.  He threw the lighter at the door.

“Piece of crap,” he snarled.  Jo picked up the clipper and lit the tip of the cigarette for him.

“You’re my special girl Jo, you understand that don’t you?  I love you and Amy and tonight I am going to show you how much.” Spittle rolled down his chin whilst smoke escaped his lips in untidy clouds. “Where is she, Jo? Where is Amy!?” his raised voice cracked when he belched.

“I told you Ian, she will be back soon.  I’ll make your chips. Amy will be home before you finish.”

Jo lit the ring under the heavy chip pan.  Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed Ian’s head slump to his chest.  His cigarette smouldered on the brown carpet tiles.  Darting across the room Jo shoved him back on the couch.  She lifted his legs, one at a time, and draped them over the arm.  She ran to the back door and double locked the mortice.  The chip pan started to smoke as she placed the tea towels on the hob beside the pan.  Jo scanned the shabby kitchen whilst backing out of the doorway.  I won’t miss this place and I won’t miss you. The boiling oil  ignited, flames licked the wall and pantry.  Jo closed the door and breezed out of the house without a second thought…

*****

“It’s all my fault.  I killed him.  I am so sorry,” Jo sobbed into the shoulder of the social worker.

“No, Jo, it wasn’t your fault honey.  He was drunk, he fell asleep with the chip pan on.  It happens…” The social worker stroked Jo’s head.

“Mum thinks it is.” Jo tilted her head towards her grief-stricken mother in the outer office.

“She just needs time Jo, to come to terms with it.  For now you will carry on living at the hostel.”

With ice cold steel in her eyes Jo approached Lily Marsden.  The woman shrivelled in front of her.  She leaned into her face and whispered, “Yes mother, you know I did it.  But you won’t be telling anybody will you, you couldn’t live with the shame.” Jo brushed her lips across her cheek before walking away forever.