Initially, I thought he’d got the wrong room. That he was so wasted that he couldn’t tell which way was up. Then I was pissed off – I’d hardly slept a wink as it was. What chance would I have of sleeping now, with him passed out next to me? But he wasn’t asleep. And he wasn’t interested in sleeping either.
At first I didn’t move. I was just too shocked. His right hand was clamped around my right tit. Then I tried to bat his hand off, but couldn’t. He tightened his grip. I remember it really hurt as he squeezed harder. Now I was struggling. I hoped this was just a stupid joke, but I think I already knew that it wasn’t. Now he was climbing on top of me, pinning me down on the narrow bed.
I think I started begging now, pleading with him to stop, but his fingers were already up my nightdress, seeking an opening. His hands were rough and hairy and I remember wincing in pain as he shoved his fist inside me. I was still a virgin – only thirteen – I wasn’t made for someone like him. His other hand pushed my head into the pillow. I closed my eyes and hoped that I would die. That it would stop. But it didn’t – he just kept on, relentless, grunting all the while.
Eventually he got bored or ran out of puff. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he got off the bed and walked back to the doorway. I turned to make sure he was really going and only then did I realize that we’d had an audience. Jimmy and a couple of mates were watching, smiling and laughing together. My dad stumbled past them into the hallway. Jimmy let him go, then started to unbuckle his belt.
And I realized that it was his turn now and that this was just the beginning.
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I didn’t mean what I said, I didn’t mean to hurt you and I’m sorry that I did.’
The words poured from her and Jake accepted her apology gracefully, gently nodding his forgiveness. When she’d turned up, he’d thought twice about letting her in, but after a moment’s hesitation had relented. It’s all very well in principle saying you’re going to cut someone out of your life, but when they are there on your doorstep, asking for your help, it’s hard to turn them away.
‘Can we go back to normal?’
It was ineloquently put but sincerely meant and it struck Jake in that moment that everybody had their own idea of ‘normal’, each person’s definition of it as weird and messed up as everybody else’s. He had been wrong to judge her so quickly, even if her anger and verbal abuse had been vile and unwarranted. She had clearly suffered – he didn’t know when or why – and if he made her feel better then that was a good thing. His own journey to the life he now led had been unpredictable and individual. Born to parents who never really wanted children, Jake had been palmed off on countless grannies and aunties – each as uninterested as the rest – until eventually entering the merry-go-round of foster care. He had suffered along the way – not in a bad way – but it’s hard to be unloved and not feel pain. Learning to control and use that pain had been the making of him, a way of managing his anxieties and expiating his demons in ways that excited him and others. He’d tried the submissive route and after he’d got over his initial fear had enjoyed it well enough, but in his heart of hearts he liked to be in control. He knew that deep down it was his insecurities that made the choice for him, but he could live with that. He was in charge now and that was what mattered.