Free The Testament of Jessie Lamb by Jane Rogers Page A

to bed and asked him to lock up after them when they’d gone. Two of them who were on the sofa had their hands down each other’s jeans, she wished they’d just go away. But as she was going upstairs to her room one of them was coming down from the toilet. The big one, the goalie, Gerrard. ‘Come on love,’ he said, grabbing her by the arm. ‘Don’t you want a bit of the action?’ He dragged her down into the sitting room again, and ripped her skirt off. She slapped him but he knocked her to the floor, and when she tried to get up one of them knelt on her legs and another held her arms. Her mobile was in her jacket pocket–that must have been when I got the call from her phone. She could hear Damien shouting and the others telling him it was only a bit of fun.
    â€˜They were saying things,’ she said. ‘About not having any pussy for a long time. Now they’ve got all those diseases up there , they said. They were egging each other on, telling me it was my lucky day.’
    She fought as best she could, and she was aware of Damien somewhere fighting too, then another one got onto her and some of them seemed to leave. She heard the door bang and Damien wasn’t there anymore either. Her phone started ringing (that must have been me) then they were shouting at the last one to hurry up and they were calling her dirt and slag and then in a rush they were all gone and she was lying alone in the mess. She was trying to have a bath when I rang again.
    â€˜Damien didn’t come back?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜Maybe he’s gone to the police.’
    â€˜I don’t think so.’
    â€˜Shall I call my Dad? He’ll take us to hospital.’
    â€˜I’m OK.’
    â€˜But Sal–’
    â€˜What? What good would it do? The only thing it would do is upset my mum. Forget it.’
    We sat in bed in silence for a long time, then I’m afraid I was so tired I just snuggled down next to her and fell asleep. When I woke up it was nearly 5 and she was still staring into space. ‘Don’t ever tell anyone,’ she said. ‘Promise.’
    â€˜OK.’ I didn’t know what else to say. It was her decision. I offered to help her clear up, and she had another bath then we binned all the rubbish and cleaned the house till there was no trace left. Poor Sammy was skulking about with his ears flat and his tail drooping, as if he thought it was his fault. I made Sal some cocoa. She was pale and quiet but she seemed OK. She said she hated men and to forget it, and I left her sitting on the sofa with Sammy beside her, his head resting on her knee.
    At home I went quietly to my room and lay down. Then when Dad called me at 7 o’clock I got up again. I pretended I was going to college. Sal didn’t answer the door so I phoned her from her own doorstep and she said her mum would be home from Birmingham by lunchtime. She wanted to be alone. As I walked away I phoned Baz. It didn’t matter what he thought about me and Iain. I wanted to see him.
    â€˜You OK?’
    â€˜Can I come round?’
    â€˜My dad’s here,’ he said. Then, ‘Fine.’
    I walked to his house. I was in a daze, everything went past me at the wrong speed. He let me in and his dad was sitting in the front room staring at the wall. He’d grown a dirty grey beard. I said hello but he ignored me. Baz took me down to his room.
    â€˜What is it?’ he said. ‘What’s happened?’
    I swore him to secrecy and told him. ‘D’you think I should tell the police?’
    â€˜Not if she doesn’t want you to. What good will it do?’
    It helped to hear someone else say it. Baz told me to get into his bed and have a kip. He watched while I pulled the duvet up. Then he sat at his piano and began to play, a soft complicated running tune that seemed to weave in and out of my head. A couple of times I opened my eyes to watch him, sitting hunched