That'll Be the Day (2007) (32 page)

‘Is your Lynda not going out with that Terry hall any more?’ The question seemed to come out of nowhere and Betty was surprised.

‘Nay, how would I know what our Lynda is doing? I’m only her mother.’

‘I only ask because our Kevin’s been out with her recently once or twice, and he’s seriously smitten.’

Betty smiled. ‘As are half the men in Manchester. Don’t ask
me
what she’s up to Jimmy. I don’t get myself involved in my daughter’s love life and neither should you.’

‘Aye, you’re probably right. It’s just that I wouldn’t like to see him hurt.’

‘Life’s all about getting hurt and learning how to deal with it,’ Betty bitterly commented.

Before he left, well pleased with his purchase, Jimmy told her of a meeting that evening for the market committee. ‘It’s to be at the Poulsons as Big Molly has offered to put on a potato pie supper. Why don’t you come round, if you feel up to it. Time you got back into the swing of things.’

Betty brightened. ‘Thanks, Jimmy, that’d be grand. I’m fair sick of stopping in.’

‘I could come round and give you a push if you need it, or happen your ex will be happy to do that for you.’

‘I’d like to give my ex a push, right into the Irwell,’ Betty muttered. ‘But don’t tell him I said so.’

Jimmy frowned. ‘I thought you and him were all cosy again?’

Betty’s eyebrows shot up. ‘If I ever start to cosy up with that man you have leave to shove
me
in the Irwell yourself, Jimmy lad. I’m doing me utmost to get rid of him, but it isn’t working, not so far. Anyway, that’s my problem, not yours, me own bit of hurt I have to deal with. I’ll see you all tonight. And give Maggie my love.’

With her mother out for the evening and feeling in need of a bit of company herself, Lynda invited a few friends round. She was lonely, missing Terry badly and the string of dates with several different men had not satisfied her nearly as much as she’d hoped. They’d taken her out a time or two but any flicker of passion would quickly fizzle out. Either she lost interest, or they did. Even Kevin Ramsay, who’d been hot for her once, had refused her offer of a fourth date.

‘I don’t think so, Lynda, let’s call it a day, huh?’

‘Why, what’s wrong?’ She’d felt hurt and abandoned yet again. Hadn’t she let him kiss her, fondle her a little, because she knew that was what lads liked? And he’d seemed so keen.

‘There’s nothing wrong and I still fancy you like crazy, but you’re not really there half the time, if you know what I mean. Your attention always seems to be elsewhere. If you ask me, I reckon you’re still hung up on Terry.’

‘Rubbish. I was over him long since.’ The band of pain around her heart threatened to choke her on the lie.

‘We can still be good friends though, eh?’

Lynda was thinking that she really mustn’t allow herself to even think about Terry. She had to get over him, and what better way than to go out with other guys? Terry had never been near since she dumped him; not called her, not even strolled over to share a coffee with her. Didn’t even look her way or say hello if she saw him on the market. He’d obviously forgotten all about her by now, Lynda thought, rather unfairly, so why should she care?

‘I said we’ll just stay friends then. Right?’ Kevin repeated, gently reminding her that he was still waiting for her answer.

‘Oh, right. Okay, Kevin. Whatever you say.’

And they had remained friends, although she could tell he was still secretly nursing the hope that they might one day be much more. With the others it had never progressed beyond the first date. She loved men, so what was going wrong? It was disappointing that they didn’t ask her out again when she’d put so much effort into trying to please them: dressing in snazzy clothes, laughing at their pathetic jokes, letting them paw and kiss her on the back seat at the pictures. Yet nothing ever came of these sessions. She supposed Kevin was right, she just wasn’t interested. All the fun seemed to have gone out of her life.

So with Ewan safely out of the way, drinking with his mates at the Dog and Duck, Lynda and her friends sat around playing records. Kevin of course was there, and a few of his mates including a lad called Pete whom she didn’t know very well but who was really quite dishy, and a couple of Lynda’s girl friends.

They sat sipping Coca Cola, singing away to
Tom Dooley
, bopping to
The Purple People Eater
and laughing at Kevin doing an hilarious take-off of the Everly Brothers singing
All I have To Do is Dream
.

As the evening progressed the numbers in the little living room mysteriously swelled. Who all these people were or where they came from Lynda hadn’t the first idea, but they’d obviously heard the music and the laughter and wanted to join the party.

Someone brought in a few crates of beer and bottles of cider to replace the Coco Cola they’d drunk, and soon they were all bopping and rocking ‘n’ rolling, shrieking with laughter over nothing in particular. Lynda had on her favourite tangerine and green checked dress with a three inch wide white belt, can-can petticoat, and white stilettos, and she felt pretty and attractive. It was the best evening she’d enjoyed in a long time. It felt wonderful to push all her worries aside and be young again.

She swayed to Pat Boone’s
Love Letters in the Sand
in the arms of the delicious Pete and he was holding her excitingly close, his cheek against hers, the even sound of his breathing in her ear. Lynda felt almighty pleased with herself as he must be the best looking guy in the room. He was tall too, with dark mysterious eyes, really rather dishy. Then his lips were on her ear, a flicker of his tongue and Lynda jerked away to look up at him, one eyebrow raised.

‘Hey, what was all that about?’

He grinned down at her and winked. ‘Not going to turn all prissy on me, are you Lynda love? I thought you were fancy free these days, now you’ve given Terry the push.’

Even the mention of his name brought a sharp jolt of pain to her heart. Lynda ignored it, resolutely pinning a bright smile to her face. ‘Course I am. Just a good-time girl, that’s me.’

‘Well then, let’s have a good time then. Long past time you experienced a real man.’ He began to kiss her, all mouth and tongue, and what his hands were doing she really didn’t care to think but she’d had several shandies and nor did she care. Lynda was hurting inside, eaten up with loneliness, worried over her mam and hating the fact that the return of a father into her life had not lived up to the dream. She revelled in the pleasure of being kissed and petted. Right at that moment any show of affection, even from a stranger, felt good.

The noise from the party was getting more and more raucous and when Pete suggested they slip upstairs for a little more privacy, Lynda was not against the idea.
 

‘Only for a bit of necking,’ she told him.

‘Course. What else?’

They ran up the stairs giggling and sat on the bed because there was nowhere else to sit. Pete barely stopped kissing her even to let her breathe and his hands were everywhere, touching and fondling and teasing. He must have half a dozen more than any other man she knew, Lynda thought, doing her best to keep track of their progress.

His fingers had found her suspenders beneath the froth of rainbow net and with a neat flick had them undone in seconds.

‘Here, not so fast, lover-boy.’

‘Hmm, you’re scrumptious, babe, I could eat you all up.’ He was peeling off her stockings with a touch that sent shivers down her spine. How long was it since she’d made love? She couldn’t remember. Terry had always said he respected her too much to go that far, which was one of the things Lynda had loved most about him, his gentleness, and his consideration for others. Pete here was a different kettle of fish altogether. He was getting really rather excited.
 

Lynda found she was lying on the bed now, and though her head might be a bit woozy she knew this shouldn’t be happening. He was hot and heavy lying on top of her, his breathing quick and shallow and those wicked hands of his were now seeking her knickers. Lynda made a grab for one.

‘Hey, cut it out. What do you think I am?’

‘You’re gorgeous. Scrumptious. I want to lick you all over.’ And lifting up her skirt he began to do just that on the soft mound of her bare belly. Lynda squealed, partly with laughter because it tickled, but also out of sheer panic.

‘Stop this right now. You’re going too fast. I only agreed on necking not . . .’

Her words were devoured by his mouth, his tongue dancing with hers. What happened next took her completely by surprise. He grabbed both her wrists and pinned her back on the bed while with his other hand he returned to the problem of her underwear. Lynda’s head cleared in an instant.

‘Get the hell off me!’ She was struggling now, fighting him with all her strength but he was still all over her, all hands and arms and legs and grunting passion.

‘Come on, don’t pretend yer Miss Goody-Two-Shoes. I know everyone else has had you. Now it’s my turn.’

‘What? Everyone
hasn’t
had me.
Get off me this minute
!’ But he didn’t seem to be listening and her knickers were now on the floor. There was only one thing to be done. Lynda brought her knee up to his groin. Hard.

‘What the hell . . .’

‘
Get out
!’ She was screaming at him, not caring if anyone heard, but she was at least off the bed and he was crumpled up on the floor, swearing like a trooper.

The bedroom door burst open and Lynda turned to it on a gasp of relief. ‘Kevin, get this so-called friend of yours out of . . .’

She got no further because it wasn’t Kevin come to rescue her at all. it was Ewan.

Everyone had gone, including the odious Pete, a much chastened Kevin and all her other friends. Lynda doubted they would ever come to her home again. Mam was still at Big Molly’s and she was alone in the house with her father.

He walked to the front door and locked it. ‘So this is what you get up to when my back is turned?’

Lynda gave a little laugh, desperate to lighten the atmosphere, but it didn’t come out right. Not surprisingly as Ewan’s face was black as thunder. ‘It was just a bit of fun. An impromptu party, what’s wrong with that?’

When Ewan had dragged Pete down the stairs and ordered her friends out, he’d told her to stay put in the bedroom. Lynda had welcomed the opportunity to quickly dress herself and make herself neat and tidy, though annoyingly, she’d caught her stiletto heel in the rainbow net petticoat, ripping it a little. Cursing softly, she’d rushed back downstairs anxious to apologise to her friends for the party ending so disastrously.

Now she was beginning to wonder if maybe she’d been safer with the rampant Pete, judging by the darkening fury on her father’s face. She felt cold inside and more frightened than she could ever remember being in her entire life.

He just stood there staring at her in grim silence, swaying slightly from all the drink he’d consumed, stinking of beer and tobacco, his thumbs hooked in that big leather belt of his.

Lynda tried a tremulous smile. ‘Look, I’m sorry if we were making too much noise but don’t get the wrong impression about me. I wasn’t encouraging that guy. It was supposed to be just a bit of necking but it got a bit out of hand. He’d drunk one too many beers. You can sympathise with that, I’m sure. Anyway, nothing would’ve happened. I can look after myself, ta very much. I was dealing with it. Now I’m off to bed, nighty-night.’

He stepped before her, blocking her exit. ‘I could see you were dealing with it. You’re a naughty girl, Lynda, and naughty girls have to be punished.’

‘What?’ Lynda tried to laugh that off but her voice cracked, coming out all weak and nervous. Yet she’d no intention of being bullied. Damn it, she wouldn’t allow him to do that to her ever again. Trying not to think of the incident with the iron, Lynda pushed back her hair and bravely faced him. ‘It’s a bit late in life to start playing the heavy parent. I’m twenty-six for God sake, not some daft teenager. If I want a bit of fun with a man I’m perfectly entitled to have it. That would be my choice, right? And if one gets a bit too randy, then, like I say, I can handle it. I certainly don’t need a heavy-handed father to step in and take charge.’

Ewan didn’t answer. He just stared at her as he unfastened the buckle of his belt. Lynda watched him for a moment in disbelief.
 

‘Hey, what the hell are you doing?’

‘What I should’ve done long ago. You’ve been spoiled, girl, and it’s long past time you did have a father to teach you what’s what.’

He pushed her down over the arm of Betty’s new green moquette sofa, and when he brought the leather belt down hard on to her small round buttocks, Lynda screamed.

‘You’re a whore, a
tart
! That’s what you are, girl. I’ll make you sorry for throwing yourself at men.’

The fabric of her summer dress was far too thin to offer any sort of protection. With every lick of the belt’s tip her skin stung and burned, and Lynda screamed again and again. But there was no one to hear her, no one to help. The neighbours had shut their ears to the sounds emanating from the Hemley household long since.

Her last thought before she fainted and darkness claimed her was that she must deserve this because nobody loved her, not even her own father. And she’d even cheated on her lovely Terry.