Ruby by Heather Burnside (carter reed txt) 📗

As Trina walked away Jessica’s comments played on her mind. Why hadn’t her mother gone to the police? It wasn’t right. Why did her mother trust the word of Mrs Gallagher who was known for being argumentative and aggressive? But, deep down, Trina knew the answer to her own questions. The Gallagher family were fearsome and that was why Kyle Gallagher got away with such bad things.

The worry that Kyle might even go back on his mother’s promise, and attack her again, sent a shiver of fear through her. But she became annoyed at her own fear. Trina didn’t like that feeling of powerlessness or the knowledge that she and her family were so vulnerable. She already had a mistrust and dislike of all males, but her powerlessness at the hands of the opposite sex fed those insecurities and a burgeoning ill-feeling.

15

April 1992

Trina looked across the room at her two cousins, Josh and Calvin. While Ellis was trying to impress them by telling them about the mischief he had been up to, they largely ignored him. They soon became bored, and turned their attention to Trina instead.

‘What was the name of the lad that did that to you, Trina?’ asked Josh.

‘Kyle Gallagher.’

‘You heard of him?’ he asked his brother.

‘Nah, does he live round here?’ Calvin asked Trina.

‘Yeah, just up the road.’

‘How old is he?’ Josh asked.

‘Twelve.’

‘Aah, small fry,’ said Calvin. ‘I wouldn’t have let him get away with that. I would have kicked that knife right out of his hand then smacked him in the mouth.’

‘I would have kicked the shit out of him,’ said Josh.

‘She can’t fight them, she’s only a girl,’ Calvin chipped in.

‘I didn’t have a chance,’ said Trina, growing agitated. ‘Anyway, there wasn’t just him. He had two friends with him too.’

‘Were they small fry too?’

Trina shrugged.

‘Go on,’ Calvin persisted. ‘How old are they?’

‘About the same as him.’

Calvin hissed. ‘Ha, like I said, they’re small fry.’

Trina soon grew tired of her cousins’ interrogation. It wasn’t as if they were offering to help. Her mother wouldn’t have allowed any reprisals anyway for fear of stirring things up even more with the Gallaghers.

She walked out of the living room and headed towards the kitchen. She was about to push the door open when she heard the voice of her Aunty Tamara. Even louder than usual, she sounded irate, and Trina paused to hear what she was saying.

‘I couldn’t believe my eyes, Daisy. It’s terrible! They want shooting.’

‘I know,’ said Daisy, resignedly. ‘They hurt my Trina real bad, even tore the clothes off her. I don’t think she’ll ever be the same again. The poor child has no idea how badly this will affect her for the rest of her life, and I haven’t the heart to tell her.’

Trina heard a tremor in her mother’s voice as she spoke the last few words, and she felt the breath catch in her throat. It got to her that her mother should get so upset when discussing what had happened. But then she dismissed it; her mother had always been a bit of a softie anyway.

Not wanting to witness an emotional scene or, worse still, an awkward silence followed by a swift change of topic, she returned to the lounge. As it was raining, her mother had forbidden them to go outside. She therefore had no choice but to carry on listening to her cousins as they boasted about their designer gear and the cool friends they hung about with. Her mind wasn’t on them, but on her scar. Where she had initially felt brave, she no longer did. Instead she now saw her scar as a failing.

*

The first time Mrs Gallagher saw Trina’s scar was several weeks after the attack. Trina had had her stiches taken out a while ago and, although the scar didn’t look as bad as it had done, it was still bright red and the flesh was raised. Her mother had told her that in time it would become smoother and the redness would fade, and she had seen no reason not to believe her.

As soon as Mrs Gallagher spotted Trina’s scar, she failed to hide her look of alarm and repulsion. Her eyes were fixed on Trina’s face for what seemed like an eternity, her brows drawn tightly together, before she became aware of Trina’s concern and swiftly looked away. Shock waves tore through Trina’s consciousness. Did it really look that bad?

In the weeks following the attack, Trina had had many pitying looks from adults, some of them whispering knowingly amongst themselves. She’d tried not to think about it too much. They were bound to gossip; after all, Kyle had used a knife on her, which was enough to disturb even the most hardened gossips.

Up to now Trina had done her best to avoid looking at the scar in the mirror, hoping it would disappear in time or at least lessen substantially as her mother had assured her. Now, though, she was beginning to view the scar in a different light. She’d become fed up of the stares and whispers and was already longing for the time when the scar wouldn’t be as noticeable. But Mrs Gallagher’s reaction made her anxious.

Back indoors she couldn’t stop thinking about her scar and went to the bathroom to examine it. Locking the door behind her, she stepped gingerly up to the mirror and studied it. It was an angry red and cut diagonally across the fullest part of her cheek. She ran her finger along the length of it, feeling the raised flesh at either side of the cut. Then she looked at it again, in detail.

As she studied it in the mirror, she realised that it would always be there; perhaps smoother and less discoloured, but still there. And it would always label her as the girl who had been attacked for trying to stand up to the boys. Suddenly her breath caught on a sob and