I’ve got such a vivid memory of his face. He sat me on his knee and, with his best yo ho ho, asked me what I wanted most of all for Christmas. I smiled, looked him in the eye and said, ‘I’d like my dad to die.’
We left rather quickly after that. Santa gossiping with the appalled mothers – bitches who loved throwing insults at white trash like us. As we hurried past, I gave that mangy reindeer a belting right hook. Didn’t get to see the damage – we were out of the door before Security could catch us.
I’d expected Mum to hit me or at least shout. But she didn’t. She just wept. Sat down at the bus shelter and wept. Pity really – it’s one of my happiest memories.
Her visit was an unexpected pleasure. They hardly ever had visitors – who in their right mind would come here? – and those that did come were usually up to no good. Thieves or thugs. The police were seldom to be found here and you could forget about Social Services. What a joke they were.
Her mother had jumped when the doorbell went. Marie was so engrossed in Strictly, she hadn’t heard the footsteps coming down the hall. But Anna had. Whenever Anna heard noises outside, her heart beat a little faster. None of the other flats were occupied, so unless it was junkies seeking an empty flat or gypsies on the sniff, then it could only mean they were coming for them. The footsteps slowed, then stopped outside their front door. She wanted to alert her mum and grunted as best she could, but Flavia was doing the Foxtrot and Marie was hooked. Then the doorbell went – clear and confident. Marie shot a look at Anna – a moment’s hesitation – then she decided to ignore it.
Anna was glad. She didn’t like visitors. Didn’t like surprises. And yet she was curious. Because the footsteps down the corridor were light and clip-cloppy. Like someone was wearing heels. That made Anna chuckle inside. She hadn’t heard anything like that since the whores moved on.
The doorbell rang again. Just once – polite but insistent. And then they heard her voice, calling their names, asking if she could speak to them. Marie turned down the TV – perhaps if she couldn’t hear them, she’d think they were out and go away. Pointless really – the light and noise from their flat were like a beacon in the darkness. Then the doorbell rang for a third time and this time Marie got up and padded to the front door. Anna watched her go – she hated being left alone. What if something happened out there?
But then Marie came back, followed by a pretty woman clutching some plastic bags. She kind of looked like a social worker, except she wasn’t depressed and her clothes were all right. She looked around the room, then walked over to Anna and knelt down to her level.