Chapter 11: What Do I Do?

We took the well-trodden path around the edge of the sports fields behind the school. It was far enough from the lunchtime crowds to afford us a measure of privacy. It helped that most of the school’s attention was focused on the fifty-a-side football match taking place in the centre of the field. Well, I say ‘football match,’ but those games usually devolved into little more than boys running about kicking each other rather than the ball.

It took her a few minutes before she started talking.

“Why is it so hard to make friends in this school? I mean, I know being the new girl is tricky in any school, but even before this weekend, no one has really spoken to me much.”

“It’s that kind of town, I’m afraid. Outsiders aren’t made all that welcome. Hell, there’s even a division between The Townies and The Villagers in school.”

“The Liddington girl you hang around with is from one of the villages, isn’t she? That seems to disprove what you just said.”

I nodded. “Yeah. But that’s ... I’m still not sure what’s up with that. Let’s call her and me the exception that proves the rule. None of the other Villagers bother with me. Not even her two best friends.”

“Does she have anything to do with Liddington-Phipps?”

“It’s her family’s company, yes. Her father used to run the place before he died. How much she has to do with it depends on who you believe. Some say she stands to inherit the whole company when she turns eighteen. Others say differently. There’s one theory that whoever she marries will be the next person to run the company. But we’re not supposed to be talking about Clarissa. Or the company.”

She gave me another of those half-smiles, then looked away.

“So, what happened?”

She took a deep breath. “From the start, right?”

I nodded. “From the start.”

Another breath. “Daddy took me to the match on Saturday. I don’t much like football, but he said it’s what everyone does and it would help me fit in. After the game, he took me to that social club—”

“The Vic.”

“Yeah. That’s the one. There was a celebration party because they won the game. He wanted me to meet some of the players and mingle with the other teenagers who were there. I told him I didn’t think it was a good idea, but he insisted.

So, I stood around awkwardly, not speaking to anyone, while he went into another room with some of the other managers from the factory.

“Yeah,” I said, “They do tend to separate the guys at the top from the plebs on the shop floor. Even at the victory parties.”

“Anyway, I was standing on my own by the bar when one of the players came over to me. I assume you know Del Stevens? Everyone else does. I didn’t know who he was other than being one of the players. He told me he was the star striker. The guy who’s going to score the goals that wins them the championship.”

“Stevens has an inflated sense of his own self-worth,” I said. “The man’s a grade-A arsehole. We were in the same class for five years before he left here at the end of Year Eleven with a handful of piss-poor GCSEs. He wasn’t worried, though, because he already had a contract with The Quilters and with it, a guaranteed job up at the factory.”

Another half-smile. “Anyway, he started talking to me.’I haven’t seen you around here before, blah, blah, blah.’ The usual bullshit, you know.”

“I can guess.”

“He bought me a drink and kept on talking, although I wasn’t really listening, to be honest. But he kept buying me drinks and kept talking. I knew I should have stopped drinking, but I didn’t. I think I thought it would serve Daddy right for leaving me alone if he had to carry me back to the car. Know what I mean?”

I shrugged. I didn’t know what she meant. I know a lot of kids had relationship issues with their parents, but I didn’t have much sympathy with them.

“Then he started touching me. At first, he stroked my shoulders, then my back, moving lower all the time until he was squeezing my bum. And it felt good, you know. It was the most attention anyone had paid me since we moved here. I know it was silly, but when he suggested we go somewhere more private, I agreed. I don’t know how much I’d had to drink by then, but it was quite a lot.”

“Alcohol can lead to bad decisions. You’re not the first. And you won’t be the last.”

“Maybe. But I should have known better.” She let out a deep, regretful sigh. “Anyway, we got into his car, but before we even started, he leaned in for a kiss, and I kissed him back. I mean, really kissed him back. I was so hot at that point, probably because of the booze. He felt me up and his hands felt amazing on me ... Anyway, he drove us back to his house and took me down to the basement, which I thought was a bit odd. He told me it was his parents’ house and he’d converted the basement into a flat for himself. I was so desperate at that point, I didn’t care. I just wanted to get off, you know.

“But when we arrived, there were three other guys there, all making comments, telling him he’d landed a good ‘un and shit like that. I swear, they were like a pack of wild animals baying for blood or something. Only it wasn’t blood they wanted, was it?

“I was getting scared by then and tried to run back up the stairs, but he grabbed my arm and wouldn’t let go. Look.” She rolled up her sleeve and showed me the bruising.