Hidden Sin: Part 3 of 3: When the past comes back to haunt you. Julie Shaw
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watched him light one too. He was shaking his head. ‘Come on, Jose, you’re being hysterical. It wasn’t exactly rape, was it? Christ, you really think that’s his style? And as I remember it, she would have chopped off her own bloody right arm to get back with him once Joey was born. Amazing how short everyone’s bloody memory is! Particularly hers.’
‘I can’t believe you’re defending him.’
‘I am not bloody defending him. I’m just pointing out that it wasn’t as simple as you’re saying. And it’s not our business to dredge it all up again.’
‘I bet a judge would call it rape. She was sixteen, remember. Frigging sixteen years old. She was ripe for the fucking taking, and he took her. And while he was supposed to be with her fucking mother – how sick is that? He’s an animal. And I know for a fact he worked one over on her, too – spent weeks, bloody months even, telling her how fucking gorgeous she was, and how things were so bad between him and her mam. She was sixteen, Eddie – not much older than our Lou – Christ, we of all people know how easily led girls are at that age. And she wanted an out – and that makes all the difference. Her brother off his head in the land of fucking smack, and her mam – well, God rest her soul, but she was shitty to Chrissy too – not to mention her nan and granddad, and –’
‘But it isn’t our business. You wade in like you always do and see where it bloody gets us.’
‘I don’t want to wade in – I want to wade bloody out!’
‘So why the hell are we even arguing? So do I!’
‘So she has to leave there. End of.’
‘Which she won’t – not now you’ve laid the bloody law down to her. She’ll do the exact bloody opposite, like she always does.’
‘Which is why she needs to know the truth. All of it.’
‘Not from us. We’re not involved in this. She’s not involved.’
‘God, Eddie – stop being such a divvy. It’s fucking Rasta Mo we’re talking about. The biggest drug dealer in Bradford, and now he’s into putting girls out on the batter, as well. And our daughter works for the prick. How is she not involved? What if the place gets raided, eh? What if that happens? And our Paula’s working there. Fuck, she does all his fucking books and you can bet your life they won’t be kosher. Of course she’s involved! She could end up in bloody prison!’
Eddie was silent for a few minutes, rubbing his hands through his hair. ‘Well, in that case, it’s Christine you have to speak to, isn’t it? Tell her it’s up to her to sort it. Tell her to tell that lad of hers a few home truths, and hope he’s got the sense to walk away as well. But please, Jose, don’t go screaming accusations about rape, okay? That will bring all kinds of shit to our door, as you bloody already know. Your Vinnie, for instance. He’d love to have a pop at him. And he would, too, he’d have a pop at fucking anyone these days. And he’s out again soon, isn’t he? Trust me, you’ll just cause World War fucking Three.’
‘Yes, but would she though? All of it? I can’t see it, can you? Her head’s way too far down in the bloody sand.’
‘It doesn’t need to be all of it,’ Eddie said. ‘Just enough so the pair of them see him for what he really is, before it’s too late.’
Josie stubbed out the cigarette and nodded grimly. If it wasn’t too bloody late already. She had a terrible premonition that it might be.
Susie lived on her own, on Little Horton Lane, in a cottage she rented just near the Brown Cow. It was handy for work and also handy for Paula to nip in for a coffee if they were on different shifts. Or outside, in Susie’s little suntrap of a back yard. Paula had great respect for her friend, not least because of her independence. She was only a couple of years older than Paula, but had been long engaged – almost married – till her fiancé was unfaithful, and where she could so easily have headed back home to her parents with her tail between her legs, she’d chosen to remain there and go it alone, even though, financially, Paula knew it was a struggle. Her mam’s words about her own naïvety still rankled. It was a word that really rankled, full stop.
It was getting dark when she pulled up in the pub car park and locked the car – where had the time gone? How could it be so late already? – but there was a light burning a welcome over the front door.
‘Changed your mind?’ Susie said as she opened it. ‘What a lovely surprise. Come on in, mate. I have wine. Not much in the way of food, like, but wine I can do. You okay?’ She scrutinised Paula more closely under the light in the hallway. ‘You’re not okay, are you? What’s up?’
‘I wouldn’t know where to start,’ Paula said as she followed her friend into the shabby but cosy sitting room, breathing in the familiar scent of cheap floral air freshener. ‘Pour me a large one of whatever you’ve got while I get my head straight and I’ll tell you. I’m not sure I’ve got my head round it yet myself.’ She flopped down onto the little two-seater sofa while Susie went to get glasses and a bottle from her galley kitchen.
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