Ruby by Heather Burnside (sight word books .TXT) 📕

the things they’d lost, but because of Daisy’s response. It wasn’t often that Trina saw her mother so wretched that she was reduced to tears and foul language. Trina felt helpless and she wondered not only how her family would cope, but just how much worse things were going to get.

3

August 1991

It was only a day later when Trina dawdled in from school to find her father occupying their worn old sofa with a scowl on his face. Isaac was a big man, both in height and frame. He was good-looking and muscular too, and it was easy to see why women found him difficult to resist despite his bullying ways. It was also easy to see why men found him so menacing; he had a reputation locally as a ruthless fighter who spared no pity for anyone who crossed him.

Trina watched her mother setting a cup of tea down on the coffee table in front of her father, muttering as she did so.

‘I never thought I’d see the day when I had bailiffs turning up at me home.’

‘Alright, Daisy. No need to keep saying it. I told you, it’ll be sorted,’ he said. ‘And if I’d have been here, they wouldn’t have fuckin’ got away with it!’

Daisy didn’t say anything about his bad language, a sure sign to Trina that she was treading lightly with him for some reason. Once she had put the cup down, Daisy turned round and addressed her daughter.

‘Where you been till this time, child? Your father’s been waiting to see you.’

Trina very much doubted that. When he had lived at home it had seemed to her that he couldn’t stand the sight of his children. Now, however, he was sitting there with Tyler on his knee running a toy car along the length of his father’s muscular arms.

‘Well?’ said Daisy. ‘Aren’t you going to say anything to your father?’

Trina looked across at her father whose face broke out into a fake smile. ‘Hi, Dad,’ she muttered.

‘How’s my girl? Come and sit next to your dad for a bit,’ he said, patting the cushion next to him and grinning widely as though he was enjoying her discomfort.

Trina walked across the room and sat down awkwardly beside him. ‘Where are Ellis and Jarell?’ she asked her mother.

‘I’ve sent them to the shop. They’ll be back soon,’ said Daisy.

‘Yes, then we can all be one big, happy family again,’ said Isaac, laughing.

Daisy joined in with his gaiety, but to Trina it seemed as though her mother’s laughter was forced. When the merriment stopped, Daisy asked, ‘Well, child, aren’t you going to tell your father about your day? I’m sure he’ll want to know what you’ve been up to at school.’

To Trina it was like penance, having to make conversation with her uncaring father while he feigned interest. As she sat there talking to him, she willed her brothers to get back soon. Perhaps they would take some of the pressure off her.

Eventually they did come back and her mother went into the kitchen to finish making the tea, leaving Isaac with his four children. Once the boys were there Trina tried to excuse herself by saying she was going to help her mother. As she stood up her father pulled her back down onto the sofa.

‘Leave it,’ he growled. ‘Your mother can make the tea herself. I want my kids here with me. I haven’t seen you in ages. I thought you’d have wanted to see your dad too.’

His last sentence was spoken like a question and Trina felt pressured to respond.

‘Well, yeah,’ she said, frightened of saying the wrong thing and making him angry. ‘Course I do. I just wondered if my mam needed some help, that’s all.’

‘Well she doesn’t,’ he snapped.

Isaac stayed and had dinner with them before he left. Trina was relieved when he had gone, although she didn’t say that to her mother who seemed in a better mood than the previous day. Daisy wasn’t exactly happy but she seemed more at ease, as though some of her worries had been alleviated.

When she got into bed that night, Trina said her prayers as she did every night; she was too afraid of the wrath of God otherwise. But this time she didn’t just say her bedtime prayers, she added a prayer of her own; please God don’t let him come back.

Once she had finished praying, Trina dwelled for some time on bad memories of when her father had been at home. His perpetual anger. The rows. The put downs. The smacks. The rare outings. Him flirting in the park. Suddenly pleasant and likeable. Then disappearing for days. And the peace offerings whenever he came back. Toys that she never played with; contaminated by his deceit.

When she eventually drifted off, she was playing the same words over and over inside her head, please don’t let him come back, please don’t let him come back, please don’t let him come back…

4

September 1991

Trina’s prayers went unanswered as Isaac moved back into the family home a few days later bringing with him a TV, stereo and various kitchen utensils. As Trina eyed the household items lined up in the hallway, it reminded her of some sick kind of TV quiz show with her father as the booby prize. Trina knew that the replacement goods were some sort of deal her mother had struck with him, but she was just glad that at least they were getting something in exchange for having to put up with her father.

For a few weeks everything seemed fine between her parents although Isaac never accompanied the family to church. He was good to his kids though, in those early weeks, treating them whenever the ice cream van came round and giving them money for sweets from the corner shop, just like the other kids in the street. Sometimes they even had cake after tea, and Trina dared to