26. Four Years Ago, Kat Volkova
FOUR YEARS AGO, KAT VOLKOVA
“Damn kids, I’m warning you for the last time! If you don’t get out of my way, I’ll make you wish you were never born!” Dad’s angry voice booms from the next room, louder than the rain hammering against the windowpanes, louder than the thundering storm raging outside.
Fear squeezes my belly.
Tom and David, my stupid little twin brothers, burst through the frosted glass door and barrel into the stack of boxes with glassware I just spent the past hour wrapping in newspaper. Their contents scatter across the floor, some breaking.
“You dickweeds!” I jump up and dash after them.
But instead of catching them and giving them the pummelling they deserve, I collide with Dad. He grips my arm so hard it hurts, and his angry red face is so close to me I can smell the cigarettes, coffee, and booze on his breath. I already know this is very, very bad.
“What did I just say?” Spittle flies from his mouth. “WHAT DID I JUST SAY?”
A sharp pain cuts across my cheek, my eyes water, and everything inside me freezes with terror.
“I didn’t do anything!” I protest, my voice breaking in a sob.
“Leo!” My mum appears in the doorway, gasping, clutching her heart, her stubby-fingered hand buried under her huge breast. “Leo, don’t!”
“Shut up!” A flash of lightning illuminates his contorted face. “Shut up before I shut you up!”
I’m crying loudly, and I need to pee, and I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold it. I’m fighting to tear out of his crushing grip.
Mum scurries away with a whimper, muttering something, sobbing, but leaving me on my own.
“I ... I ... I didn’t ...” I’m shaking and crying so hard I can’t breathe, and my limbs are like jelly, weak and unstable. “Daddy ... please...” I beg, even though I know it’s useless when he’s like this.
When he gets this red in the face, when his voice gets this high, there’s no talking to him. But at night, he’ll stumble into the room I share with Tammy to apologise, to tell me he loves me and didn’t mean to be hard on me, only he got so angry he couldn’t control himself.
And I know how I’ll feel. Right now, I hate him, and I want him to die.
Right now, I wish he’d have a heart attack like Sofia’s dad.
But later, he’ll sound too sad. The kind of sad that comes from so deep within.
I know I’ll feel so sorry for him then that I’ll stop being angry.
If only he realised it’s the same every time.
What comes next happens so fast I can’t even process it.
The main door opens and then bangs shut. Then there’s a flash of movement to the side. A small hand—nails with chipped-off black polish—comes into view, holding the loop of a leather belt.
My eyes go wide, my mouth hanging open, tears drying on my cheeks.
Tammy!
But she looks different. She’s only eighteen, but she looks properly adult all of a sudden.
Her hair is a shade darker because it’s wet from the downpour outside, and it’s framing her freckled face in severe straight lines instead of the usual waves.
She’s very pale, her lips are drawn into a thin line, and her blue eyes look exactly like Dad’s—very, very angry.
“You fucking coward!” Her voice slices the air like a knife.
I don’t even have time to be shocked she used the f-word, because she whips Dad across the back with the belt! He yelps with pain, letting go of me. I stumble away from him, backing into the wall.
Crack! Crack! CRACK!
She hits him again and again, hard.
“You pathetic, fucking coward!” she repeats, arm flying up and down, up and down. “Don’t you dare lay your hands on her ever again! Not on any of them, you hear me?”
Dad’s howling and crouching, the belt bouncing off his back.
I feel sick watching it, but I can’t look away.
Mum reappears in the doorway, her hands pressed to her mouth, eyes wide with fear.
“Tamara!” Her voice comes out thick and muffled.
“Shut the fuck up,” Tammy snaps at her without taking her eyes off Dad.
“You let him do this to us. You let him ...” She trails off, voice breaking before ringing hard and steady again.
“You knew! You knew, and you agreed, and you didn’t even warn me.
You’re—no—mother—of—mine.” She punctuates each word with a vicious snap of the belt.
Mum covers her whole face, sobbing, slumping against the doorframe.
Dad’s nearly on his knees now, letting out high-pitched noises that are very uncomfortable to listen to. But then Tammy’s blows become a little slower, less hard. She’s out of breath, sweaty in the face. She’s getting tired.
Dad sees an opening and roars and lunges at her. They topple to the ground with a sickening thud, and he’s on top of her, arm crooked backwards, his fist balled, ready for a punch.
Oh my god. He’s going to kill her! He’s actually going to kill her!
I want to move, I want to help, but I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t! My bladder lets up, warm liquid quickly soaking up the front of my trousers. I can’t breathe, and I can’t stop crying. My legs give out, and I crash to the ground, hitting my coccyx.
But Tammy doesn’t even sound scared.
“Go on,” she says, her voice full of disgust and hatred. “Hit me then! Break Volker’s new toy right after you sold it to him. See what happens.”
Dad freezes, blood draining out of his face so fast he goes from red to sheet-white in only a few seconds.
“That’s right, genius!” Tammy’s provoking him—she shouldn’t be provoking him.
“It’s up to me now whether all of you or only some of you go to the Oceanics.
All I need to do is spread my legs right, and I can easily have you sent to a working camp instead.
How does a radioactive debris cleanup crew sound? Daddy?”
“Shut up,” he gasps, lowering his arm, shaking his head. “I had to ... you don’t understand ...”
“Oh, I understand perfectly,” she mocks him. “It became pretty fucking clear right around the time he said ‘your daddy agreed I should be your new Daddy’ and pushed his thing into my ass.”
“Stop! Don’t talk. Don’t tell me—I can’t hear it!”
When she tries to sit up, he rolls off her, letting her. He kneels next to her like he’s praying. “Please,” he’s muttering, rocking back and forth. “Please, Tamara, please ...”
“You piece of shit!” Tammy shoves him, and he nearly topples over, but doesn’t retaliate.
“So help me fucking god.” She gets up to her feet—she’s really tiny, almost shorter than I am—but right now she looks tall, towering over Dad’s crouching form.
“You will never so much as look at them the wrong way. You will never hit them ever again.”
“No ... no ... no.” Now Dad is crying too, snot pouring out of his nose. “I won’t, I swear I won’t.”
But Tammy no longer pays him any attention. She turns to me, and her features soften so fast it’s like magic.
“Kat, come here.” She helps me to my feet, and her eyes land on the wet crotch of my trousers.
Shame burns through me, and I try to avoid looking at anyone.
“It’s alright, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up.” With her arm around my shoulders, she leads me to the bathroom, shutting the door behind us with a bang.
“Tammy, what’s going on?” I ask her once it’s just the two of us. “Why aren’t you coming with us?”
I take off my soiled clothes, and she runs the bath for me, adding a generous splash of soap. The water starts foaming.
“That’s complicated, baby,” she only says in reply to my question. “I have to stay. There are things I must do so that you can all go.”
“You have to take more pictures?”
She sighs heavily before replying, “Yeah. Something like that.”
She sits on the rim of the bath, her shoulders slumped.
“Can I stay here with you?” I plead with her in a small voice.
I test the water with my fingers. It’s too hot, and the faucet creaks as I adjust it.
“No, baby.” Tammy shakes her head slowly, sadly.
A different kind of fear than before twists inside my belly. I can tell something is very wrong, but I don’t understand what’s happening.
I take a closer look at her, and that’s when I notice the stain for the first time.
“Did you get your monthlies?” I ask her. “You’ve got blood on your ...”
“What?” Her eyes snap up, and she follows my gaze to between her legs.
She gasps. And then—very suddenly—she breaks down.
She crashes to her knees, bending forward. She’s sobbing so hard it sounds like she’s choking.
I don’t know what to do. I put my hand on her shaking shoulder, and we stay like that until the overflowing bath interrupts us. And the whole time, I just keep wishing things could be the way they used to be.