Hate to Love You(3)

He prescribed an altar in the sitting room and an expensive silver rosary.

Every day after school I kneeled in front of the Virgin Mary and begged God to forgive me until dinnertime. The gruelling schedule continued until I convinced Father Martin that prayer had destroyed my unholy defect.

And how did I do that? By lying through my teeth of course.

When Father Martin saw me again he filled his eyes with every ounce of ugliness he could think of, every bad word and every sadistic thought that could catch me out. But I had practiced, making sure to stare at family members, strangers and teachers as much as possible. I fooled Father Martin even though I saw that he projected some of his own truths.

These days I don’t look into anyone’s bright and beautifuls for too long if I can help it, especially my family’s. The eyes really are the mirrors to the soul, you know. But when I read Alex’s I want a piece of that cunt, I was, perversely, charmed by his lust.

His thoughts matched his words and that made for a refreshing change. Plus, I liked him at lot. He was hot and he didn’t seem to judge me like other people. I’d kissed plenty of guys and done lots of other things too; I had a bad reputation but I’d never gone all the way.

We ended up in Marcia’s bedroom, still clothed and groping like mad.

“I thought you were only kissing in there,” Marcia said.

I snorted. “I didn’t notice he’d unzipped until he yanked my knickers aside and aimed his dick at me, groaning like he was in pain.”

“No condom?” Her shriek was so loud my eardrum pinged.

“Shit, Mar, relax. I told him no condom, no can do,” I assured her. “But he wasn’t happy and dug it into my thigh. I tried to push him off but he held me down and pumped all over me. Then he said ‘Thanks for the pussy’ and walked out as if he’d just bummed a fag off me.”#p#分页标题#e#

I hadn’t expected soppy declarations of love, but neither had I thought he’d treat me like a slag. That’s the aggravating thing about skimming the surface. Some people keep their ugliness hidden deeper, harder to fathom unless you follow the trail.

“When my shift is finished I’ll give you a buzz and we’ll study that cheapie test of yours,” Marcia said. “In the meantime look on the bright side, at least you haven’t got gastroenteritis.”

“I wish I did,” I said miserably.

“And Paisley,” Marcia said softly, “happy eighteenth.”

I threw the Find Out at the foot of my bed and shut my eyes. My world was shrinking to the size of the little parasite inside my...

Womb.

Most days I didn’t remember I had one of those but the bloody thing took on new significance as I lay there, picturing my family’s reaction to the news. My mother would dissolve into tears and head straight to the altar and my father...well, I’d better make sure I was far away from him when he found out.

Caroline would be horrified, worried about how having a single mother in the family would reflect on her reputation. Then she’d pretend concern and play the caring sister for my parents’ benefit. But I knew the truth about Caroline.

She was a liar.

“The truth shall set you free,” my arse. It’s the lies that allow people to fly high. People like Caroline, the golden girl who’d blighted my life and turned the whole family against me. Familiar, impotent anger and hopelessness hit my sensitive stomach, threatening to overwhelm me with nausea. I shut my eyes and reached for the vodka.

My father’s voice boomed from downstairs. “Paisley! Caroline’s ’ere with James!”

Crap. If I wasn’t quick he might come upstairs to get me. Like his father before him, my father ruled the family like a Spanish hidalgo his serfs. The only concession he’d made to being born and bred in England was to deed poll his name from Juan Carlos Benítez to John Charles Benton. Otherwise we were in feudal Spain and I had to toe the line if I expected to live under his roof again. That meant church every Sunday, no boyfriends or—God send me to hell where the sluts belong—sex.

And absolutely no booze or drugs.

I’d run away and lived rough a few years earlier and it hadn’t been pretty, so I sprang off the bed and dashed across the room, one eye on the door. I yanked hard at a corner of frayed carpet, exposing a section of missing floorboard. Into the hide-hole went the Find Out and my Absolut. It was time to go downstairs and meet Caroline’s fiancé, Mr Arrogant Toff aka James Xavier Scott-Thomas.

My sister came home at weekends, but with the big day only three months away she’d finally been forced to introduce James to her working-class parents and good-for-nothing sister. He was staying the night on the sofa after dinner with Father Martin to discuss the wedding service.