THIRTEEN
The Marina isn’t actually a marina. Well, not a traditional one at any rate. Years ago, the river Esk played a key role in transporting goods through the industrious Vale. Every major factory had its own access to the river for loading and unloading. But as industry dried up, and the Vale turned to ruin, the river became overgrown and redundant.
When Trevainne industries started buying up parts of the Vale and invested millions in revitalising the area, the northern part of the Vale became fondly known as the Art District. It has a bohemian flair to it that both contrasts and compliments the former industrial setting it now lives within, and the Marina is the heart of its design.
Instead of houseboats or luxury yachts, floating shops and restaurants line the fifty-foot pier. It reaches halfway out across the river and can be seen from the Vale side, lit up and vibrant and everything we are not. I feel like an interloper here, in my food-and-bleach-stained clothing. But when they rebuilt this place as the heart, they gave it kindness too, because nobody looks or judges.
Or maybe they’re just more polite and hide their disapproval?
We sit inside the ice-cream parlour; the kids tucking into knickerbocker glories and banana splits while I nurse a cola float—courtesy of Aiden. In return he scoffs a pistachio waffle-cone that I bought as a thank you.
The freezing cold glass helps numb my palms so I’m doubly grateful.
“So, what happened to Dax?” I finally find the courage, or perhaps the peace of mind, to ask.
“He’ll be here shortly. He’s informing your mother about our current situation, so she doesn’t go home straight from work.”
“Thank God.”
He nods and shoves the last bite of his cone into his mouth, smiling around the thick chocolate base and crunch of the cone. It makes me happy that he gets enjoyment out of my gift. It’s one of the few things I can do to thank him.
As soon as he’s done, his smile fades. He runs an assessing glance all over me, hovering especially over bruises or injuries. I know what’s coming before he can open his mouth.
“Are you going to tell us what happened after we left?” I notice he says us. Though Dax isn’t here, he’s letting me know he’ll be reporting every word back.
“I don’t think now is a good time,” I say and pointedly glance at the kids.
He sucks in a breath to argue, but TJ beats him to the punch.
“Daddy punished Juju because he’s bad.” He slurps a spoonful of vanilla. “He had a food fight too.”
Shit, they saw all of that? I thought he’d only been looking for a second.
Aiden’s brows shoot straight up. “Food fight? Ah the groceries,” Aiden sighs, putting two and two together in the wake of my silence.
I nod.
“He punished you for the groceries? Why?”
I can’t hide it now, but I can tell it quickly. Rip the band aid off. “I thought I could sneak them in. He caught me. If I told him the truth about where I got them, he’d have…” What? I have suspicions, but no concrete evidence that he would have done anything differently. He wanted that fight today. He’d have used any excuse. “I don’t know…” Accused me of all the same shit, probably, only, instead of sleeping with Charlie and Koko, I’d be Dax’s whore. I shake my head. There is no point trying to explain any of that. “So, I lied and said I stole the money and bought them.”
“Why? Is it a charity thing? Pride?” He’s asking if my dad is too proud to accept their gift. What a joke. My dad would exploit it — them and me — for more.
“Pride? My dad? Are you kidding? My dad has no pride. He’s a selfish, no good…” AJ scratches at his wrist. The frantic back and forth of his nails create little red tracks, so I stop and breathe hard before continuing. “My dad isn’t a nice man. He thinks my earnings are his. We need permission to buy food.”
“Is that why your cupboards and fridge are bare?”
He must have looked while he was in there. I nod again.
“And why you earn breakfast…for the kids?”
Another nod.
“When was the last time you ate something?” he asks knowingly.
I shrug.
“Today? Yesterday?” he drives. I punctuate each query with a headshake. He pushes his seat back from the table and gets up. “Wait here.” He marches outside and turns left before vanishing from view. No doubt he’s buying food. I don’t think I could eat anything right now. Even the float feels too heavy.
“Juju?” TJ’s voice shakes me out of my head.
“Yeah?”
“Can I get another?” I want to say no. They need proper food, not sugar, but after the day we’ve had, I can’t bear the thought of denying them anything. Even if I know one of them will inevitably puke by the time they’re done.
“Sure, but I need you to listen to me first, okay?”
“Okay.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest like a little man, and I fight the urge to laugh. He’s showing me he’s taking our chat seriously and I don’t want to demean that.
“About what happened…what Daddy asked you to do.” Both boys clam up and look anywhere but at me. Casey has no idea what’s going on. She’s too busy hunting the chocolate drops out of her bowl of ice-cream soup. “He asked you to do something bad,” I continue.
“He made us hurt you,” AJ voices.
“Yes, that’s what he wanted, but that’s not what you did. You know that, right?”
“We stomped on you,” AJ insists.
“I know, and you should never stomp on someone deliberately…but…just this once, it was a good thing. You saved me. Both of you. Daddy was going to hurt me really bad, and you both saved me.”
AJ shakes his head, unconvinced. This kid is already beating himself up emotionally and physically over this. It might only be small anxiety reactions right now, but it’s still self-harm. He doesn’t have the facts or the emotional maturity to see none of this is his fault.
“Think about it. Whose foot is bigger? Yours or Daddy’s?”
“My feet are bigger than T’s, but Daddy’s are bigger than mine.” AJ answers matter-of-factly.
“Exactly! So, if Daddy stomped me, it would be really bad, right?”
“Yes!” TJ agrees, happy in his realisation. AJ shrugs.
I continue to make sure AJ releases his guilt. “So, which was better, you stomping or Daddy stomping?”
“Us,” AJ mumbles.
“Yes, you,” I agree. “And you two stomped carefully; hard, but not too hard. So, it didn’t hurt,” I lie, “But Daddy would have stomped until my arm was flat as a pancake.” I wiggle my arm like it’s boneless and both boys giggle. Good.
“And then you’d not be able to hold your spoon!” TJ adds, pointing at the spoon in my float.
“That’s right!” I agree.
“Or give us cuddles.” AJ adds.
God! I’m out of my seat and throwing my arms around the pair of them. I squeeze until they both huff in irritation and only then do I let go of them.
Everything hurts. I’m so close to crying, there are already pools in my eyes, but the kids need my smiles. I stroke my thumb over a glob of strawberry sauce on AJ’s cheek.
“No more hurting yourself, kiddo.” I nod at his wrist.
AJ stares at the red scratches, but he nods.
“I know that inside…” I tap my chest. “…your feelings are big, and they hurt. You feel bad.” He nods again. His eyes water. “I feel it too. I feel bad because Daddy made you do that, and it was my fault. But you know what? When your heart hurts like that, it’s because you care very, very much. It’s because you know what is right and what is wrong.”
Both boys watch me.
“And someone who cares is a good person.” I take a deep breath. “Sometimes loving and protecting others might hurt a little too, and that’s okay. Just keep listening to your hearts and doing good things. We need to be strong and brave, and sometimes we make tough decisions to protect each other, okay?”
I get a chorus of okay’s, including one from Casey who stares at as all looking a little confused. I blow a raspberry kiss on her cheek and stand up, unaware of our audience.
“Wise words.”
I spin like a top. One quick about-turn, and find Dax smiling at me with my mother, hunched-shoulders and eyes to the floor, hiding behind him.
I ignore Dax. I’m more surprised at my mother’s presence here. “Why aren’t you at work? You have at least two hours of your shift to go. What happened?”
“You happened,” Mum whispers, and it feels like a slap. Dax grunts and Mum finally looks up, seemingly only just noticing her whereabouts. She scans the kids first, lingering overly long on Casey, and once she’s satisfied they’re okay, she looks at me. I hold still, making sure she sees it all. I’m done hiding my bruises from her.
She’s right, I suppose. I happened. It wasn’t her decision to leave; it was mine. My choices today may have jeopardised everything she’s tried to protect for years. Except, the things worth protecting are all here, eating ice cream and relying on strangers playing saviours. Whatever bubble she was living in blew apart years ago, it just took until today for us to notice.
“What happened to your hands?” she asks, ignoring all the rest. She knows exactly how I got the bruises. I question whether to tell her. I’d rather not tell everyone in the parlour, but if I’m done hiding from her, then I guess I’m done covering up for him too.
“Bleach,” I tell her. “He made me cup my hands and kneel holding bleach until my hands burned.” I feel rather than see Dax’s reaction to my confession. His energy shifts instantly. The anger radiating off him is like heat.
“What did you do?” she accuses, like I must have done something atrocious to have brought that upon myself.
God. That stings worse than the bleach. Doesn’t she know by now, nothing I could do or say would deserve that kind of punishment? I try to form the words to tell her, but Aiden strides in, places a paper bag on the table and tells her for me.
“She brought home groceries.”
“I don’t understand,” Mum barks.
“Neither do I,” Dax growls.
Aiden sneers at my mum, his voice taking on sarcastic tones. “It’s simple. We gave her two enormous bags of groceries as a gift and her dad went ballistic. She had to tell him she stole the money for them.”
“Why? Why not tell him the truth?” Dax asks.
Mum answers with a thick sigh. “Because he’d have used your kindness. He’d have made Juliet use your kindness. She was protecting you.” At least she understands that much.
I nod and confirm her guess.
“What do you mean?” Dax demands.
“Eric Feelan is a world class liar and manipulator. He’s blackmailed me and Juliet for years. Even when she was too young to realise that’s what he was doing, and I was already too afraid to step in and stop him.” Dax cuts Mum a look that warns her to continue or else.
She sits at a table opposite and heaves another tired sigh.
“He’s cruel. He’s always enjoyed playing games and controlling people…only now that he’s redundant and barely goes out, he mostly picks on us. He uses weaknesses to manipulate you into giving him whatever he wants; money, loyalty, fear, your body, your soul…”
Like Gresh. Gresh spies on me at the bar and feeds it all back to my dad. He does other things too, things that I see him whisper with Dad about on the rare occasion he turns up at the apartment. Was that attack in the corridor another of Dad’s twisted orders or a reward for Gresh’s loyalty?
“He uses his kids like bargaining chips,” Aiden adds, knowingly. He heard Dad’s opinions of me and Casey for himself. I’m not surprised Aiden’s figured that much.
Mum nods.
“You can’t go back to the house,” Dax warns. “He’ll be gunning for anyone right now.”
Mum glares at me as though I’m the one issuing the threat, but I keep my mouth shut rather than argue. It must have caused all kinds of trouble to get her off her shift early and without notice. Dad will hear about that too. His is the only number they have for Mum since none of us have our own phones. I had an old broken one of his, its microphone useless and the screen cracked to shit after one of his fits. He threw it out without a second thought and used the money in the utilities jar to pay for a swanky new one. I snatched up the old one. It didn’t have service, but I used it to take photos and download books using the library’s Wi-Fi. When the boys got bigger, it became theirs. I’d download cartoons and leave it at home with them to keep them quiet and off Dad’s radar.
I trace my hand over the one Dax gave me and am reassured by the rectangular outline. It’s safe. It made it out in one piece, just like me. I might not have many people to call, but it represents a way out of the prison my father created for us.
“I have somewhere we can go for tonight,” Mum offers. She does? “I’ll take the kids and head there now, if you can arrange something for Juliet,” she asks.
“What? Why can’t I come with you?”
“My friend can’t take us all and you have your shift tonight. We can’t come and collect you that late.” Her words are rushed and shifty. I recognise myself in her right now. I did the same thing to Aiden and Dax earlier. She’s lying or hiding something, but the bare bones of what she’s telling me invalidates all plausible excuses anyway.
The rotten truth is, she doesn’t want me with her. Not tonight, maybe not ever.
“That works out fine,” Dax agrees, without even asking my opinion or permission to decide for me. “I have something I need Jules to do for me. I’ll arrange a hotel room for her and then we’ll meet up with you tomorrow to discuss a more permanent solution.” Mum doesn’t look happy at the prospect, but she nods obligingly.
“This hotel…?” she asks.
“Yes?”
“Will you be with her? Or will he?” she questions, nodding her head toward Aiden as the ‘he’ in question. I can’t believe she’s asking this. She thinks I’m sleeping with one of them. I don’t even know why it would bother her. She doesn’t want me, right?
“If you’re asking if she’ll be protected, the answer is yes.” Dax’s eyes narrow. He must realise what she means, too. His delicacy is appreciated, but Mum keeps fishing for details.
“I just want to be sure she’s not…”
I snap. She has no right to make insinuations or twist this man’s kindness into something wrong or manipulative. “What Mum? Earning his kindness on my back. Fuck! I see why you married Eric. You’re as bad as he is. I’m not sleeping around. I’ve never slept around, and I certainly don’t prostitute myself to anyone!” I snap, not caring who hears me. To make sure there’s no further discussion, I follow up fast with a question of my own. “Do you have money on you?”
Her mouth hangs open. Then my question registers.
“What?” she asks, confused by the sudden change in conversation.
“I’ll make sure they’re taken care—” Dax begins, but I cut him off quickly.
“No! You won’t. You’ve done enough. You owe my family nothing,” I snap at Dax, glaring at him until he backs down.
“No, I don’t have any money,” Mum answers, her face colouring.
“Here,” I fumble in my backpack for my purse and give her everything I have in there except for a twenty that I keep for myself. It’s not much but it will pay for a cab to anywhere in the Vale. What I hand to her will buy food for today and maybe tomorrow if she budgets. “They need a proper meal. Can your friend provide that?”
Mum’s eyes narrow. I’ve embarrassed her twice over and now she’s angry. “Yes, Juliet. I know how to take care of my own damn children,” she barks.
“And yet your daughter’s gone three days without eating,” Aiden launches back.
Mum’s eyes dart to Casey. I snort. Of course, I wouldn’t so much as register to her. “Wow. Okay. I think you should just go wherever you’re going.”
Mum doesn’t argue. I think she knows she doesn’t have a leg to stand on with these guys on my side. Instead, she ushers the kids up and out of their seats. They watch me as Mum tucks an arm around Casey and nudges AJ out of the store. TJ hangs back.
“You coming anyway?” he asks. This boy is bold. He’ll need to be to protect AJ’s gentle heart.
“Not this time. Mum’s upset that I made Dad mad. It’s okay though. You’ll have a sleepover with Mummy’s friend, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Something isn’t sitting right with me, though. Mum wasn’t even wearing her uniform when she came in. She’s dressed smarter than I’ve ever seen her. She’s even wearing makeup. Then there’s the fact that she instantly has someone to go to, even though she’s never been allowed to socialise.
I don’t trust her.
“Kiddo!” I call before TJ reaches the door. Mum’s waiting outside, impatience clear in the rapid bouncing of Casey on her hip. I hold out my new phone and place TJ’s hand on it.
“Here, take this. Hide it. If you need me, press this button and then this button until it rings. Dax or Aiden will answer, and I will call you back. Just like your play phone at home, okay?” I show him the unlock button and the call app. Then make sure it’s on silent. “If it jiggles in your pocket, hide somewhere and answer it.”
“Can AJ see it too?”
“Yes. You and AJ can keep it safe until tomorrow. If you need me, remember to use it. Don’t let anyone else see it. It’s our secret.”
“Okay.” He tucks it into his sleeve where it sticks out obviously, but Mum won’t notice and what’s she going to do even if she does? Take it off him? Then I’ll just check in with her instead. The door chimes tinkle as he leaves.
And other than these strangers helping me, I’m alone.