Purgatory Is a Place Too Read online

  “So how’s Daisy?” I asked in a falsely cheerful tone.

  “We’ve just split up,” he said abruptly. His eyes met mine briefly. “About a week ago. It all got a bit too intense.”

  “Well she is two years older than you and works in a bank,” I pointed out. “She was bound to start talking about mortgages and babies long before you were ready…”

  Pete was listening in now. “Is she really two years older than him?” He sounded amazed.

  “Oh yes, Quinn likes his older women,” I said slyly.

  Quinn looked suspiciously at me, not liking my tone.

  “I worked it out eventually, Quinn,” I said with a bared teeth smile. “It was Miss Robson wasn’t it? The one with the miniskirts, hennaed hair, the- ” I stopped to mime an enormous set of boobs, “and eyes like a jersey cow…”

  He sat motionless, his eyes flickering.

  “What’s this Eve?” Jo asked curiously.

  “When we were fifteen he was sleeping with one of our teachers,” I reported. “Miss Robson the maths teacher.”

  Jo frowned ferociously. “That’s terrible! She should have been sacked!”

  Sue looked shocked. “Is this really true Quinn?”

  Quinn’s colour fluctuated dramatically. Since Quinn almost never blushed, I knew I’d hit the nail right on the head. I sat back in my chair satisfied, my arms folded. “I should have guessed really. She was always holding you back after class supposedly ‘in detention’, though you’d never done anything that bad that I could see. I thought she was just being mean… Surely you weren’t shagging her in the classroom?”

  He shook his head. “Honestly folks, it wasn’t that bad!” He defended. “She was only twenty five, newly qualified and all that, she wasn’t that much older than us!”

  I looked to Paul to back me up. “It was bad wasn’t it?”

  “God Eve, you can talk!” Quinn went on the attack. “You were screwing Tyler and he was seventeen years older than you!”

  “Yes but I was eighteen! You were underage! What she did was illegal and could have got her sacked and put on a sex offenders’ register!”

  Paul intervened. “Adam, you know perfectly well that she was in the wrong. You were being taken advantage of.”

  Quinn’s eyes dropped before Paul’s. Paul had that effect on people. He had natural authority. That’s what I was going to need with Cody. I wondered how he did it…

  “Well I can’t see it did me any harm,” Quinn muttered.

  I saw Pete and Jo exchanging glances. Of course Quinn would have been flattered. And he’d have loved the excitement of the subterfuge. But I had a different perspective on things these days. That damn well was abuse. It didn’t make it any better just because it was from the more unusual perspective of a woman to a boy. She had outrageously abused her position of trust and authority and I bet she’d known perfectly well that what she was doing was wrong.

  Christmas Day and I had made my dutiful trip home. My little brother Jamie still hadn’t left home, much to our stepmother Pauline’s disgust, because he knew which side his bread was buttered, was Dad’s opinion. Jamie and I were now inured to the annual Christmas party she insisted on, where she hauled all the Quinns in from next door and put on children’s party food and made us play silly games. The smallest Quinn, the charming three year old Mariah, ran around talking non-stop, only stopping to play rough and tumble with Pauline’s lively brown and white cocker spaniel. Declan joined in the games with alacrity, Liam with reluctance and the rest of us resignedly. I had assumed that Quinn himself, like me, was only dropping by for the day, so was rather shocked to find out that he’d moved back home.

  “Surely there’s no room!” I exclaimed. “Presumably Siân’s having to share with Mariah if you’ve reclaimed your old bed?”

  He shrugged implying he didn’t care. “Don’t know why Siân hasn’t moved out to share with Pete yet.” He said sniffily.

  “Maybe she doesn’t want to abandon your Dad?” I suggested. Like you did, I thought. In my opinion it was a disastrous idea to move back home after having been independent for three years. “I hope you’re paying your Dad rent?” I said sharply. He’d struggle to feed all six of them if Quinn didn’t contribute.

  Quinn looked shocked as though it hadn’t even occurred to him. Pauline muscled in from across the room. “That’s what I said to your Dad, Eve, about Jamie… As soon as he starts working he should be paying us rent, but oh no, a year on and we haven’t seen a penny! But hey-ho, I’m just the wicked stepmother aren’t I? Why should anyone listen to me?”

  Dad blanked her out pretending not to hear, and Jamie glowered. Uh oh, I thought. Things obviously aren’t so rosy this end either. Mariah ran up to me and took my hand. She tossed her dark curls, tipped her head on one side and eyed me assessingly with her dark blue gaze. “Football in the park, Ginty?” She petitioned.

  I glanced across at Liam. “You up for it with Declan?” His face flushed with relief. “You bet! I’ll go and get the ball…” He disappeared back next door to fetch it while I got Mariah’s and Declan’s coats on. I caught Quinn watching us jealously. I decided to rub it in a bit. “The four of us often go and play footie together,” I told him. And you don’t know that because you’re never there, I thought bitchily.

  Liam returned with the ball, and as we headed down the path I heard a door slam behind us and when I looked back, Quinn was jogging after us.

  “Can’t stand it in there much longer,” he excused himself as he came alongside.

  Once the kids were bored of the football, they headed for the swings and roundabout. Liam obligingly stood behind them and alternately pushed them higher and higher or spun them faster till they screamed.

  “Slow down Liam,” I called. “You know Mariah always throws up!”

  Again I caught Quinn glancing resentfully at me as though I was showing too much intimate knowledge of his littlest sister’s habits. Bet he doesn’t know that she pukes if she’s spun too fast, I thought almost spitefully.

  “Saw Hussein a few weeks ago,” I told him instead. “He grabbed my arm and looked really mean. I know he recognised me, and when I wrenched my arm away he watched me drive away up the street on the bike, so now I’m worried because he knows my number plate.”

  Quinn pulled a dismissive face. “God Eve, it was years ago! We were just kids! What can he possibly do to us now?”

  I felt hurt and angry. I’d been waiting to tell him this and now he was belittling it! Quinn may be over six foot now, but I wasn’t. Four years ago Hussein had been party to shutting the pair of us into the boot of a car, to pouring petrol over Quinn and threatening to set him alight and later on had been one of the three who had come round to the garage where I worked and seriously beaten me up. I was still terrified of what he and his mates were capable of.

  “It’s getting dark!” I shouted abruptly at the kids. “Time to go home!” I turned sharply away from Quinn and headed for the exit. When we got back to the house I made my excuses and left.

  “Oh that’s a shame, Petal!” Pauline exclaimed, but I noticed she didn’t try to stop me. She took hold of my little step brother’s hand and tried to get him to wave at me. He stared at me with bovine blankness and once she let go of his hand it dropped like a stone into his lap. I saw my Dad avert his eyes from him.

  Back at the empty flat, full of Christmas cards sent to Zanna and Jo, I lay on my bed and felt tears stinging at the back of my eyelids. It had been so, so long since I’d last cried. But now I felt so lonely I could die.

  On New Year’s Eve, Paul saw the lights on in the barn where I’d come up to do some fine tuning to my new car, and he came in to see what was going on.

  “What, not out celebrating somewhere?” He said, sounding surprised. “You might as well come into the house after for a drink, and we can discuss our campaign for our Friday together at the NEC,” he suggested.

  I followed him in.

  “We have a waif and stray,�
�� he announced to Sue as we entered the kitchen.

  “And there I was thinking we were going to have a child free evening,” Sue said with a smile. “Apparently Pete’s off on an all nighter with Siân and Jo is..?”

  “Down some night club in Manchester with Zanna,” I filled her in. One of the gay ones and I wasn’t invited.

  Sue and Paul exchanged amused glances.

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard the word ‘nightclub’ used before in a sentence referring to my daughter,” Paul laughed.

  When he left the room for a few minutes, Sue asked, “So how’s it going with Zanna do you think?”

  I hesitated. Sue looked intently at me. “Well she doesn’t like me much for a start,” I reported. It was getting to be like a Quinn and Daisy situation all over again, and it was beginning to wear me down. Sue waited. I pushed my hair irritably back behind my ears. This damn page-boy cut was a mistake. It fell over my face all the time and I ended up with black streaks on my face when I had to keep tucking it back. I couldn’t have it as short as Jo’s was as my hair was so pale and fine I’d just look bald. I could see myself having to grow it again just to be able to tie it back out of the way of the oily engines. “She’s quite controlling,” I said cautiously. Sue looked worried. “But she absolutely adores Jo,” I added quickly. “Got us both on an absolutely dire healthy eating regime,” I proffered in a joking tone. I spread my hands. What else could I say? That Jo was looking stressed? That I heard arguments over sex erupting in their bedroom? Couldn’t tell her mother that sort of thing.

  Paul came back in. “I’ve been thinking, Eve. You need to dress more professionally this year. No jeans and definitely none of those flirty miniskirted things. Do you have anything suitable?”

  I looked at him dismayed. “Are they flirty?” I faltered.

  He tried to retrieve the situation. “I don’t mean they’re inappropriate for a young girl on a night out,” he commented. “But they’re not the sort of thing to be wearing if you want to be taken seriously in business.”

  “Right,” I said awkwardly. I’d have to go out and buy something then. I didn’t really understand what Paul was aiming at, taking me for the second year in a row to the trade and business day at the Automotive Show in Birmingham. We always used to just go on the public Saturday as we’d generally be driving in the F2 race in the Live Action Arena and every year for four years we had been interviewed on the stage in the Oval Sports section. It was like he had some secret agenda for me, but I couldn’t fathom what it was.

  The only person I could think to go to was my friend Chetsi, a Junior Houseman up at the Psychiatric wing of the local hospital. She was the only fully paid up professional woman I knew. Well I suppose Zanna technically could be counted as one, as she was a sports injury physio, but one glance at her alternative dress sense and full body tattoos put her out of the running on this mission.

  Chetsi was really helpful, as I had expected. “What colours suit you best?” She interrogated.

  “Blues as long as they’re in the smoky, silvery or grey range, greens in silvery, mossy tones, golden yellows and reds,” I reeled off. My arty friend Lisa had very firmly informed me of this once.

  “Grey blue then,” she suggested. “That’s ideal. Understated, classic, expensive looking.”

  I must have looked nervous at the word ‘expensive’ because she laughed and said, “Don’t worry, we won’t break the bank.”

  She took me into some stores that it would never normally occur to me to go into, and kitted me out in a discreet smoky grey blue fitted dress with straight cut lines down to just above the knee, and with a matching short waisted jacket with wide lapels. We discussed the shoes for some time. Apparently it was hard to get the balance right between frumpy sensible and frivolous stiletto. We ended up with discreet, plain, but heeled.

  Over coffee afterwards, she asked me how I was.

  “Quite depressed I think,” I answered honestly for once.

  She frowned.

  “Every day when I wake up I wonder why I’m still here.”

  “Do you ever think about ending it all?” She queried neutrally.

  I shook my head. “Not my style. But I’m struggling to face each day…” I fiddled with the spoon on the oversized saucer.

  “If you ever start getting suicidal thoughts you mustn’t hesitate to go to your GP,” she advised me. “Or come to me if you’d rather.”

  I glanced briefly across at her. “You know my fiancé died last year, don’t you?”

  She frowned. “Nasim mentioned you being upset about a fellow driver getting killed on the motorway?”

  I nodded. “We were going to get engaged at the end of the season. I don’t think I told Nasim the full story. She’s so happy with Rajesh I didn’t want to rain on her parade…”

  “I’m sorry,” Chetsi sympathised. “That’s really tough. It’s probably just natural grief coming out, Eve. It takes a long time to get over something like that…”

  It made me feel better that she had confirmed that. Perhaps because we’d started out by keeping our relationship secret, no-one much took it seriously when he died because they’d only just registered that we were together. Most people appeared to assume it was little more than a fling, so no-one wanted to hear about how upset I still was a whole year further on. You’re young. Plenty more fish in the sea. Bit of a hidden blessing really – he was far too old for you and the ex-wife and kids would have been a real pain! It seemed you didn’t have a right to grieve unless you’d been married for years…

  Jo and I were sharing a twin room in a Premier Inn in Birmingham. When I got dressed on the Friday morning, her eyebrows raised.

  “Your Dad’s orders,” I filled her in. “Look professional!”

  I had found that the earrings and ring that Tyler had given me, exactly matched the outfit, and as I put the earrings in I felt a sense of relief that I could rehabilitate them without having to wear the original dress that he’d bought them to go with.

  As I slipped the ring on my right hand, Jo eyed it. “Is that your engagement ring?” She queried. I nodded. Again, it seemed a nice thing to do, to wear his ring at an event that he had always been centre stage at for years.

  At the door of the hotel, Paul took a sharp look at me. He seemed pleasantly surprised as though he hadn’t expected me to pull it off.

  He took me round every stand at the NEC (or so it felt to me), determinedly introducing me to all and sundry as a talented and innovative designer of cars. Eyebrows raised slightly. I smiled coolly at them and said very little, shaking hands when it was required of me. At the end of the day I still had no idea what Paul’s game plan was, but hey, it was fascinating getting an insider’s look at the top production teams and manufacturers from around the world.

  On Saturday, we were being subjected to a Satterthwaite team interview on the stage by Steve the Sports Journalist who always hosted.

  “So World Champion two years in a row, Pete,” he congratulated. “Are we going to see a third?”

  Pete smiled politely. “You never know in the Stocks do you? Anything could happen on the day…”

  Steve turned to me. “So you decisively regained the World of Shale Championship this year Eve, and also made it to National Points Champion, this time fair and square, by a large margin, so that’s a real achievement and not something that ever happens by chance on a single day. Will you be going for it again this year do you think? It’s a massive commitment…”

  “That’s true,” I agreed, “and not just for myself. When Jo here gave up racing to allow the team to concentrate more on me, she was fondly imagining getting to spend whole weekends with her feet up reading a book, and instead she’s attended more races as my support mechanic in the last two years than she ever had on her own behalf in the past ten!” I didn’t answer his question. No-one ever admitted to going for the silver. They always said cagily that they’d see how the first few months went…

  “And what
happened to make you withdraw at the last moment from the World Championship Final?” He pursued nosily. “You just walked towards the stands instead of towards your car!”

  “Engine trouble,” I said coolly, looking straight ahead of me. “Didn’t seem any point in snarling up the track for everyone else…”

  Steve seemed to accept that without comment. “So come on now,” he urged. “You Satterthwaites never let me down. You usually have some breaking news for us…”

  I glanced at Jo. “Well we’re taking on a new girl for the year, Cody Frost, some of you may know her? Sixteen years old and straight out of the Bangers and looking to be quite a handful. Her Dad’s passing her over to us because he can’t manage her anymore.” I gave a meaningful laugh which was echoed obediently by the audience. “So if any of you have any trouble with her, then come straight to me or Jo and we may have to make use of Paul’s very effective naughty step.” I gave him a swift glance out of the corner of my eye. “I ought to know about it, I’ve had to sit on it a fair amount of time myself!” Everyone laughed again. And Paul gave a slight but severe smile.

  Then Paul held out his hand for the mike. I passed it over to him.

  “So the one thing Eve here isn’t telling you, is that she’s spent all year over and above her National Points commitments, designing and building an innovative new F2 car. She’s been in consultation with the Scrutineers all year and I saw she was bearding Don Noble, the head scrutineer in the hall earlier today, so she’s determined that it’s going to pass inspections. And I’m so genuinely excited by this new build, that I’ve decided to take out a licence again, and I’m going to test drive Eve’s car this season.”

  Pete stared at him. Jo stared at him. I absolutely stared at him.

  “Really?” I exclaimed, utterly shocked. “Really?”

  Paul laughed at our faces. “Yes, really!” He looked out at the audience. “I don’t know what Eve’s school was playing at, letting her slip through their fingers like that! I’d like to see her do some sort of engineering design degree, but she’s completely digging her heels in at the moment. So in the meantime, I’m going to put my money where my mouth is, and put that car through its paces on the track.”