Living With Evil by Cynthia Owen (best way to read books .TXT) 📕

by the Beatles or the Rolling Stones. Sometimes, when Mammy had had plenty to drink, I was allowed to put on records late at night and sing and dance around the room.

On the odd occasion she was in a good enough mood, Mammy sat in her rocking chair by the coal fire watching me, and one night she suggested that I strip off my jumper to cool down, because the fire was blazing and I was rosy-cheeked.

The music was blaring, Mammy was drinking and I was dancing wildly. It was great not to think about anything but the beat of the music for a change. Mammy was laughing, and even clapping in time now and again. The atmosphere was good and I was really enjoying myself for once.

My woollen jumper was cast aside, but I was still burning hot. The fire was roaring fiercely. I hadn’t seen that much coal on it since Christmas.

‘Take off another layer!’ Mammy said, over and over again, until in the end I was dancing in my thin vest.

Then she got up, drew the curtains wide and threw open the window. I hadn’t seen her let in any fresh air and light like that for years, and I watched her curiously, feeling a little wary.

Suddenly, I let out a shriek. There was a shadowy face at the window!

‘Mammy! There’s somebody out there!’ I screamed.

She made a huge drama out of going out to investigate, and when she didn’t come back for ages, something made me follow her. It wasn’t like Mammy to dart about, and she hardly ever went outside. I knew she was up to something.

As I tiptoed out through the back door, I spotted her talking furtively to my Uncle Frank behind the coal shed. She had a bottle of sherry in her hand, and he had a wide smile on his slimy lips.

Had he been outside the whole time I was prancing around in my vest? Was that why Mammy had encouraged me to have fun, dancing around? Was that why she had put so much coal on the fire, so I would be so hot I would have to strip off?

I was seething, and decided I would be brave and tell Daddy when I got the chance. I knew he had banned Uncle Frank from the house. I was going to tell him he had been prowling round in the garden. If Mammy beat me, I would just accept it. It would be a small price to pay to get rid of Uncle Frank once and for all.

I don’t know what happened between Mammy and Daddy after I muttered to him nervously one night about Uncle Frank in the garden, but Mammy thumped me on the ear very hard one day without warning.

‘Nosy little bitch!’ she called me. Every time the pain rang in my ear, which it did for several days, I told myself it was worth it if Uncle Frank was banished from our house for good and I never had to kiss him ever again.

The following Sunday, while Daddy slept in, Mammy came downstairs and announced that Uncle Frank and Aunt Mag had invited me for Sunday dinner at their home.

‘Get yourself ready, Cynthia. They’ll be here to collect you soon,’ Mammy said coldly. ‘Be a good girl and do as Uncle Frank asks you, d’you hear?’

My heart sank and my stomach started to knot with nerves.

Mammy rarely let me inside anyone’s house apart from Granny’s. What was going on?

I didn’t like Aunt Mag much. She was a frosty-faced woman who always appeared to be looking down her nose at me. But at least I wouldn’t be alone with Uncle Frank, and she wouldn’t make me kiss her husband, would she?

The short journey to their house was a blur. All I could think of was what excuse I would give if Uncle Frank asked me to sit on his knee. Perhaps I could say I felt sick or had a headache, or that I had a nasty sore throat or an ulcer on my tongue?

‘Come in, Cynthia!’ Aunt Mag sang as we got to the front door. ‘We’ve got mutton stew for dinner!’

It smelled foul, but I gave a polite smile. She hadn’t drained the fat off the top, and the greasy meat made me want to gag as it slid down my throat.

‘Eat up every mouthful, Cynthia,’ Aunt Mag warned me sternly.

While I sat there forcing each forkful down my throat, Aunt Mag suddenly vanished from the table. My tummy lurched with fear. I was alone with Uncle Frank, and he had greasy dribble on his chin.

The mutton started to churn in my belly. I realized I really was going to be sick, and I asked if I could go to the toilet, where I immediately vomited up the contents of my stomach.

I hoped now I had finished the dinner I would be able to go home. But where was Aunt Mag?

‘Come into the bedroom, you two,’ her shrill voice rang out. ‘I’m waiting!’

My senses flicked to red alert in an instant. She sounded weird. Why would we go into their bedroom? Frank was ushering me through the bedroom door now, and as I focused on the scene in front of me the blood drained from my face.

Aunt Mag was in the bed. My head swam. The grease on my throat felt like thick slime that was choking me. Then Uncle Frank was in the bed too. They had no clothes on. I could see white flesh. There was naked, flabby skin everywhere. They pulled me into the bed, both laughing.

I saw Uncle Frank’s big slimy tongue again. I felt their skin touch my skin, and I saw Aunt Mag touch Uncle Frank, her hands moving quickly over his body.

I cried and retched while they cackled and sniggered. They didn’t seem to see my tears at all. They carried on and on until they both seemed to be deliriously happy.

I was crying and trembling when Uncle Frank