Kay Brellend 3-Book Collection: The Street, The Family, Coronation Day. Kay Brellend
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He knew the sound of Tilly Keiver finishing off a bottle of whiskey. He knew what the thuds and clunks meant after so many years living in close proximity to her. He knew too that, drunk or sober, she wouldn’t even open the door to him unless he gave her good reason.
He knocked and called softly. ‘’Ere, Til, it’s Jim. You seen Fran? She ain’t in. I come by ’cos I got some money for her fer the lads.’
Tilly stuck a hand through a tiny opening. ‘Give it ’ere then,’ she slurred. ‘I’ll make sure she gets it tomorrer.’
‘Ain’t she with you?’ Jimmy enquired, all friendly, whilst keeping his bruises turned away from the aperture.
‘No, she ain’t,’ Tilly muttered, getting annoyed.
‘I was gonna knock at old Prewett’s, before I go. Say hello.’ He paused. ‘Know if the ol’ git’s about, do yer?’ It was a sly probe to discover if anyone was home and might bear witness against what he had planned.
‘He’s gone to Bethnal Green. Funeral,’ Tilly muttered succinctly. ‘Now give us Fran’s money ‘n’ piss off, will yer. I’m done in.’
Jimmy put his shoulder hard against the door and Tilly staggered back to crash into the table. ‘Wot the fuck yer doing?’ she spluttered, frowning incomprehension. Her inebriated state made it difficult for her to regain her balance and she clutched at a chair back.
An encompassing glance about the room told Jimmy what he needed to know. She was on her own. It was late and the kids were probably all akip in the back room. Nevertheless he kept his voice silky and soft. ‘I’m doin’ what I should’ve done a long time ago, you mouthy bitch. No Jack now to hide behind, have you?’ he taunted through his teeth as he back-kicked to flick the door to. ‘Got two things for you, Til,’ he purred with sadistic relish. ‘Got this …’ He raised a fist. ‘And got this …’ He started to unbutton his fly. ‘Now how you take this …’ he handled his groin lewdly, ‘is gonna determine how much of this you get.’ He suddenly let fly with a punch that whipped Tilly’s slack head sideways. He licked his lips as he heard her stunned gasp.
‘Now that didn’t hurt,’ he mocked. ‘That were just a little tickle.’
The throb of agony in her jaw had dispersed some of the inebriated fog in her mind. Tilly blinked and with a guttural cry launched herself at him. Her drunken state made her clumsy and Jimmy floored her with ease and stood grinning down at her semi-conscious figure.
He used his boot to turn her onto her back and came down astride her. ‘Want it here, do yer?’ He pounced on her heaving breasts, double-handed, then ripped the buttons from her blouse. Her skirts were already awry and he tugged them higher while she bucked beneath him, cursing and crying in frustration and rage. But try as she might she was too drunk and stunned to stir her senses into action or shift the weight on top of her.
Jimmy levered himself up a bit to yank down his trousers and as he surged forward again Tilly recovered just enough to spit in his face. Jimmy cuffed her spittle from his cheek and drew back that same arm, intending to give Tilly back what was hers.
‘What’s going on?’ The voice, faint with shock, came from the threshold.
‘What’s going on?’ Alice cried and rushed into the room. She’d just returned home from a walk to the café with Geoff. Only moments ago they’d parted at the foot of the stairs. She bent to her mum and gasped as she saw the state of her battered face. She then raised her eyes to her uncle; their faces were almost level. ‘What have you done to her?’ she whispered, aghast. Her fearful gaze fell to a puce part of him that poked jauntily out of dirty white cotton. With a shudder of revulsion she sprang up and tottered back a step.
Jimmy whipped to his feet and caught her as she turned to run for the door. ‘Where you off to, Al?’ he asked, his voice guttural with lust. The arm about her waist tightened and he slid a hand up to squeeze a small breast. ‘Stay fer a bit and be nice to yer uncle … eh? Got a little kiss for me, have you?’
Alice shrieked and one of his brutal hands quickly muffled her cries. She could feel hot pressure behind her and felt the bile rise in her throat as he ground himself against her buttocks.
‘Come on, li’l Alice,’ he crooned. ‘That streak o’ piss boyfriend of yours ain’t old enough to know how it’s done. What you need is a real man. I’ll show you a better time’n he can manage.’ He dragged her back with him to the iron bed and forced her down on the dirty mattress.
Alice felt as though she were suffocating. She twisted her head away from his boozy breath, tried to squirm from the rough hands tearing at her clothes to reach her skin. She wanted to see her mum. She could hear her groaning but not locate her on the floor.
Tilly dragged herself to her knees and lunged for the bed. ‘Get off her! Get off her, yer filthy bastard. She’s yourn. What you doin’ to yer own daughter?’
Jimmy turned his head as Tilly pounded ineffectual punches at his thigh. ‘What you on about?’ he snarled.
‘She’s yourn … your kid … get off her, you … evil … fuckin’ … bastard.’
As the hand that had been gagging her slackened Alice jerked free and screamed. When Jimmy turned back to stare at her drop-jawed she drew a breath to yell again. The disbelief in his eyes at what her mum had said was already being dimmed by lust. His rough fingers pinched her lips again to quieten her. ‘She’s a lyin’ bitch,’ he mouthed close to Alice’s ear. ‘Don’t you take no notice. I ain’t yer daddy …’
Geoff was taking a final drag from his roll-up, leaning against the railings, when he heard Alice scream. He thought for a moment he must be mistaken, for only a minute or two previously he’d kissed her goodnight in the shelter of the doorway and she’d gone off humming happily. But this was The Bunk and God only knew anything could happen in it. A second later he was bounding up the stairs.
The sight that met his eyes as he burst in to the Keivers’ room momentarily petrified him to the spot with shock. Tilly was on her knees at the bed edge, dragging at Jimmy’s legs and crying, her features mired in blood and snot. Alice had seen him over Jimmy’s shoulder and her eyes were dull with humiliation and misery. Jimmy turned his head and spat a curse at him. Aiming a backward kick at Tilly to get her off his legs he vaulted to his feet, closing his trousers.
Geoff quietly pushed to the door. ‘What d’you think yer doing?’ He sounded oddly polite yet tight-lipped wrath had drained his complexion of colour and narrowed his eyes to slits.
‘What you can’t, sonny. I’m gonna give her a good time. And when I’ve done with you I’ll finish her off ’fore she goes cold on me.’
Geoff continued into the room and circled as Jimmy started to navigate the furniture.
‘He’s got a knife, Geoff,’ Alice choked out. She’d seen Jimmy’s sly movement and the flash of silver as one of his hands withdrew from a pocket. She swiftly yanked down her rucked-up skirt and scrambled to the edge of the bed.
‘Stay where you are, Alice.’
It was uttered with such quiet authority that Alice obeyed Geoff and froze into immobility.
Slowly Tilly’s numbed senses were surfacing though a mist of pain and alcohol. She tried to pull herself onto her feet. But her legs buckled beneath her and she cried out in anguish and frustration. Her head was reeling, her throat clogged with blood and mucus, making her retch and gag. She sank again to her knees.
Jimmy lunged and Geoff dodged sideways. Jimmy chuckled and licked his lips on seeing he’d got a lucky hit and drawn blood. Red beads had sprung up on Geoff’s forearm and stained his shirt.
‘Come on … you can do better’n that, can’t you, sonny?’ he taunted then feinted with the knife a couple of times, showing off.
Alice