Chapter 12

TWELVE

WINDSOR

Christmas Eve

Vic arrived at her mum’s with a small wheelie case just as Joti was about to pull off her drive. Rolling down her window, the neighbour called out, her voice cold, ‘Glad I’ve caught you, Vicki.’

Vic prepared herself for confrontation.

‘I’d really appreciate you keeping an eye on that dog of your mum’s whilst you’re here. He did it again the other day. In exactly the same place. It’s not on.’

Vic felt her hackles rise. But the last thing she wanted to do was to get into any kind of doorstep fracas, especially not over dog shit. She hurried to open the front door before she said something she might regret.

As if Joti had picked up on Victoria’s thoughts, she added, ‘And you should know that I saw your mum walking the dog up and down the road here in her dressing gown and bare feet the other night.’

To Joti’s surprise,Vic stopped in her tracks and broke down in tears .

The neighbour’s stony expression cracked, and her face was suddenly full of concern. ‘Oh no. Sorry. I really didn’t mean to upset you.’

Vic wiped her face with her jacket sleeve. ‘It’s fine. I’m just not feeling myself today.’

‘Do you want to talk?’ Joti looked up at her with honest, kind eyes, and Vic felt bad once again for how their last conversation had gone.

With tears still streaming down her face, Vic shook her head. ‘No, it’s OK.’ She sniffed loudly, wanted to shout that nothing was OK, that she had HIV and her alcoholic mother was clearly becoming a danger to herself and she had no idea what to do about any of it. ‘It’s just a worry, all this, isn’t it?’

‘I’m on the last of a run of night shifts tonight, so if you did want a chat another time – well, you know where I am. Right, I’d better go. Happy Christmas, Vicki.’

Vic’s return ‘Happy Christmas’ was lost on the wind. Wondering what Joti’s job was, she made her way inside, propped her case up in the hallway and threw her coat on the stairs.

There was no sign anywhere of either her mother or Chandler. She was also sure that Albie should have been there by now, as he was only planning to stay that night and go back home to his girlfriend and her two kids in Reading for Christmas Day night.

Turning up the heating, Vic went through to the kitchen and, on opening the fridge was pleasantly surprised to see a small stuffed turkey in a baking tray, and some potatoes, parsnips and brussels sprouts sitting in water, ready to be cooked. On the side were her favourites: mince pies, a small Christmas cake, a bowl of satsumas and a tin of Quality Street. On top of the fridge, alongside a large pack of dry-roasted peanuts and some Pringles, were cans of beer and a few bottles of wine. All this unexpected order set Vic off again, tears spilling down her cheeks. Her plan had been to see what her mum had managed to buy and then head to the supermarket before everything had sold out, to pick up the slack. It was such a relief that her mum had had the clarity and wherewithal to go shopping herself. And also heartening that she had remembered a lot of the things that Vic and Albie enjoyed.

Putting the white wine in the fridge, Vic poured herself a glass of red, popped the tube of Pringles open and was just about to call her brother to see what time he was arriving when she heard a commotion at the front of the house. As she walked to the window to see what was going on, her mother came flying through the front door, swiftly followed by a shaking Chandler. The shouting continued outside.

‘Vic, your brother’s in trouble.’ Kath’s voice was shaking.

‘OK, Mum, stay in the kitchen with Chandler.’ Vic remained calm, but stern. She could hear the fear in Albie’s voice as she pushed open the front door.

‘I told you not to come here. I had to get my old dear to come to the cashpoint with me, as I didn’t have enough. I was going to meet you under the arches as planned. I’m late, but I’ve got it. Oi, get the fuck off me. Come on, mate. Not here. Please!’

Then Vic heard a smack, then somebody falling to the floor. She ran outside to see a man, his face hidden by a black hoodie, punching her brother in the head. As she switched the outside light on and screamed for the hoodie man to stop what he was doing, he sprang up, grabbed a handful of the notes that were now flying around the drive, and took off. As he turned, he crashed into Vic, knocking her right onto the concrete, causing her elbow to split and begin to bleed profusely. She could see the flash of blue lights turning into their road.

‘Get in!’ she hissed at Albie. ‘Get in, now! I’ll handle this.’

‘But, sis, I?—’

‘Go! Just check on Mum.’

Vic pulled off her scarf and wrapped it around her bleeding arm. As the police car drew into the drive, she casually walked towards it. A female officer got out. Another police officer was on his radio in the driver’s seat.

‘Are you all right? We’ve had reports of some kind of disturbance at this address.’

‘Yes, umm… er… It was a right to-do.’ In shock at what had happened, and with blood beginning to drip down her arm, Vic began to speak really fast. ‘The dog escaped, my brother ran to stop him going into the road. We both shouted and had a bit of a scuffle.’ She faked a smile. ‘It’s Christmas and… too much to drink and… you know what siblings are like. I tripped and fell – no biggy – and that was it. I cut my arm. Mother, brother and dog are inside. No harm done. I just need to get in and sort this.’ Vic pulled the scarf tightly around her arm.

‘And you expect me to believe that, do you?’ The police officer remained expressionless.

‘Yes… I do.’ Vic was now shaking with both cold and shock as the woman began to question her further.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Victoria Sharpe.’

‘Do you live here?’

‘No. I’m just here for Christmas with my mum.’

‘And your brother?’

‘What about him?’

‘Does he have a name?’

‘Albert Sharpe, but we all call him Albie. And… umm, he’s just visiting too.’

‘Before we go on, that arm looks nasty. Let me take a look – you might need stitches.’ The policewoman went to move the scarf from Vic’s arm.

‘No! No. Don’t touch it.’ Vic was surpised at her own agressiveness.

‘OK. OK.’ The policewoman put her hands up. ‘I’ve got first aid in the vehicle, that’s all. Let me just see if it might need stitches.’ She moved forward again to move the scarf, which was now soaked with blood.

Vic burst into tears. Her voice and face now full of desperation, she repeated, ‘I said, don’t fucking touch it.’ Her make-up was now streaked down her face. ‘Please.’

The other police officer got out of the car.

‘All right,’ the policewoman replied calmly. ‘It’s OK. I won’t.’

‘It’s not OK, though, is it?’ Vic whispered through her tears. ‘You shouldn’t touch it because… because I’ve got HIV. I just found out.’

The policewoman’s tone became kind and gentle. ‘That is really good of you to let me know, Victoria.’

‘Please don’t be too nice to me. I’m only just managing to hold myself together.’ Vic made a noise between a blubber and a wail.

‘I’m so sorry you’ve had that news. I can’t imagine how difficult that must be to take on board.’ The police officer was sincere. ‘And it must be really hard telling people.’

‘You’re the first person I’ve told, actually,’ Vic whispered, noticing a curtain twitch in the neighbour’s house opposite. She realised that telling a stranger had felt a much easier thing to do, compared to the enormity of having to tell those she loved dearly.

‘That’s sounds like a big step, so well done.’ The policewoman nodded for her colleague to get back in the car. ‘I’ve got gloves in the med box, so I can happily patch you up.’

‘I think the neighbours have had enough of a show, don’t you?’ Vic shivered. ‘I’m going to get in the warm and jump in the shower. These things always look worse than they are, but thanks for the offer.’

‘So this… this family kerfuffle won’t have any repercussions tonight, you don’t think?’ The police officer looked directly into Victoria’s eyes.

‘No, we’re all good.’ Vic nodded firmly, not quite believing that she had got away without any further questioning.

‘I appreciate you telling me about the – you know. That can’t have been easy. And take care of yourself, eh?’

Vic’s elbow was now really throbbing. ‘I will, thanks.’

As the police officer reached the car door, she turned. ‘Oh, and advise your brother to stay away from those sharks. He’s a minnow in a big dirty pond, and he might not get off quite as easily next time.’

When Vic appeared from the shower, Albie was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a beer, waiting for her. Her mum was right: he did look so like her dad when he was younger, with his dark, quiffed hair, dimples and sparkly blue eyes.

‘Where’s Mum?’ Vic picked up the glass of red wine she had poured earlier.

‘Catching up on the soaps.’

‘Is she all right?’

‘She’s pissed, so I guess so. I feel so bad that I had to push her through the door before. I just didn’t want her getting involved.’ He motioned towards the large plaster on his sister’s elbow. ‘Are you OK?’

‘My arm took the brunt of the fall.’ Vic lifted her elbow to look at it. ‘It looked worse than it actually is.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ He jumped up to hug her, but she pushed him away.

‘Get off me. And so you should be sorry. You could have been really hurt.’

He smiled. ‘I didn’t realise you cared.’

She couldn’t stop a grin forming. ‘Nor did I.’

‘Thanks, Vic. I mean it. I heard what you said to the old bill. You were brilliant. ’

Vic felt a rush of anxiety fly to her stomach. ‘You heard everything?’

Albie didn’t look her in the eye. ‘Enough to know that you got me off the hook, sis,’ he stuttered.

He went to the back door. His hand visibly shaking, he lit a cigarette. ‘I didn’t deserve you doing that for me. Sis, you’re amaz…’ He blinked fast to stop the tears that had formed in his eyes.

‘Yes, I saved your bacon this time, but do you owe anyone else?’

Albie shook his head.

‘Is that the truth?’ Vic took a slurp of wine. ‘Because if it’s not, I will be angrier than you’ve ever seen me.’

Calm again, he turned to face her. ‘Angrier than when I cut your Barbie’s legs off from the knee down and stuck her in the top of the rotary washing line so you couldn’t reach her?’

Vic managed to keep a straight face. ‘I mean it!’

‘I swear.’ Albie tutted and let out a huge sigh.

‘And don’t be huffing at me, Albie Sharpe, because this has gone beyond anything you’ve done before.’

‘I know, I know. Leave it out now, sis.’

‘How much have you had off Mum?’

‘I’m going to pay it back – all of it. I promise.’

‘She’s not a cash cow, Alb. She gets measly benefits and her cleaning money. That’s it! You can’t keep doing this to her. On top of that, we’ve got to face the fact that she’s not well.’

‘I know that. Don’t you think I don’t worry about her, too?’

‘Not enough, clearly, Albie. Not nearly enough. I’m impressed she got all the Christmas food prepped though, aren’t you?’ Vic replied.

‘I didn’t notice the prep, but I did see all the goodies. Told her she’d done good, but she said it wasn’t her.’

‘Oh.’ Vic frowned. ‘Who was it, then?’

‘I didn’t ask. ’

Vic felt strangely put out. ‘I was all set to do it, though.’

‘Don’t be getting all territorial, Vic. Just be grateful someone’s helping Mum when we’re not around, whoever it may be.’

‘It was you who helped her get your old bed downstairs, though, I take it?’

‘Not me, but it was a good job, because when I turned up the other day, she had fallen down the stairs.’

‘Oh no!’ Vic put her hand to her forehead.

‘Yeah, sis, she had a proper egg of a bump on her head. Bigger than this one.’ He pointed to the large lump behind his ear. ‘My Lisa told me to stay the night in case the old dear was concussed.’

‘And you didn’t think to call me?’

‘I didn’t wanna worry you, and you’re miles away.’

Vic sighed. ‘I’m a big girl, Albie, and I’m not that far away, really. I can make my own decision if I come or not. I can easily hop on the train, or even get a taxi if need be. So next time, I want to know. You hear me?’ Albie nodded. Vic took a drink of wine. ‘So is it just the gambling you’re struggling with now?’

‘Yeah.’ Chandler came tearing in from the back garden and started gulping water noisily. Albie stubbed his cigarette out on the patio, shut the door and sat back at the table. ‘That geezer works for a loan shark I met in the pub.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Albie!’

‘Please don’t shout at me, Vic. I’m fucked. I’ve got a problem and I don’t know what to do about it.’ Tears filled his eyes.

Vic sighed, her voice then pained. ‘Oh, Albie. Let me see if I can find out if there any organisations that can help you.’

‘No. You’ve got enough on your plate. I can do this. I will do this. I know what I need to do. It’s all in the mind. Although part of me thinks rehab is the only answer to break the pattern, but it’s so fucking expensive to do that, and I have to keep grafting. Lisa said if I miss another month’s rent, she’s chucking me out. ’

‘Where are you working at the moment?’

‘Got myself a job on a site in Wokingham. The best sparky in Berkshire, me.’

Vic managed a smile. ‘Does Lisa know about your gambling? Maybe you could give her money as soon as you get it so you don’t have a chance to spunk it?’

‘I’m not telling her, Vic. I’m thirty years old. I need to sort this myself.’ Albie put his hand to his head. ‘Ouch. He got me a good’un there. But at least he’s got his money now. Wanker!’

‘Please take care of yourself, though, Alb.’

Albie put his hand on hers. ‘Are you sure you’re OK, Vic?’

‘Yes, yeah, of course. It’ll take more than a cut on the elbow to stop me.’ She quickly looked at the ceiling to suppress more tears.

Albie’s eyes welled up again too. ‘I so appreciate what you did out there. And I know I’ve been so shit lately, but I’m gonna really try, OK? And, Vic… if ever you need me, I am here for you. You hear me?’

‘Blimey.’ Slightly overwhelmed that she had at last managed to scratch the emotional side of her brother, Vic felt unexpectedly less alone. ‘It looks like Lisa’s knocked some feelings, as well as sense, into you. Have a beer, for goodness’ sake.’

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, allowing Vic to realise she hadn’t thought about her HIV for at least twenty minutes. But once the thought was there again, it took her over like a runaway train. There were so many ‘if onlys’ running around in her head.

If she had been more loving and had had sex with Nate, maybe he wouldn’t have gone elswhere and slept with someone else. And despite him being nothing but encouraging about her creative desires, if she had just upped and left and followed her dreams without him, then she wouldn’t care or even know who Nate was shagging now. Not that she wanted Nate to have the virus either. But on a selfish note, if he did, at least they could now deal with it together. But like her old gran used to say, ‘If ifs and ands were pots and pans, there’d be no work for tinkers’ hands’.

She drained her wine and shook her head as if trying to scare away the thoughts. But the HIV wasn’t going away and she had to think about it because she was living with it. And she had to think about it because after Christmas her next conversation was to be the hardest she would probably ever have to have in her whole life. Because if Nate didn’t know, then she was the one who would be telling him that his life as he knew it was over too.

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