Read Online Looking for JJ by Anne Cassidy - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Anne Cassidy
Tags: Fiction, Family & Relationships, People & Places, Juvenile Fiction, England, Social Issues, Europe, Murder, Death & Dying, Mysteries & Detective Stories, Emotional Problems of Teenagers, Emotional Problems, Adolescence, Child Abuse, Emotions & Feelings, Identity, Violence, Law & Crime, Physical & Emotional Abuse, Identity (Psychology)
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the daughter that she hadn’t seen for years? They’d been joined together once, she and her mum. How could they be so far apart?
No one really understood. Did your mum abuse you? the counsellors said. Did she hit you? Hurt you? What about all the men she knew? Did any of them touch you?
Just after her sixth birthday Simone refused to look after her any more. Instead of seeing her moon face at the school gates she would now see her mum, her blonde hair blown here and there by the wind. She wasn’t always cheerful, and sometimes she forgot to put her red lipstick on, but Jennifer was thrilled to see her all the same.
One day a photographer rang. He had some work for her mum. The receiver made a ding noise as her mum replaced it and she danced up and down the tiny hallway. Jennifer and Macy watched.
“All I need is to get my foot back in the door,” her mum said, peeling off her clothes, standing stark naked at the bathroom door.
Her foot in the door . It was an odd image and Jennifer thought about it for a few minutes. Then she took Macy into her mum’s bedroom and sat on the bed while she got ready. Her mum sprayed herself with perfume, rubbed cream into her skin, her arms, legs, her stomach and back, her tiny breasts. She was humming and posing in the big mirror like she’d done before, when she’d had lots of model jobs. She held her clothes up, outfit after outfit, almost as many as Macy had.
“The studio’s only ten minutes away. I won’t be more than a couple of hours.”
Jennifer thought of Simone then and felt a rumble of worry.
“Will I have to go to Simone’s?” she said.
Her mum stopped and looked at her for a moment.
“No, love. Not today.”
Jennifer pursed her lips. Did that she mean she had to go to Gran’s?
“I want you to be a really big girl today and stay on your own. That’s all right, isn’t it?”
Jennifer was surprised.
“On my own?” she said. “By myself?”
“Like a really big girl. I’m going to leave you in the front room with a video on. I’ve got some drink and biscuits and when I go out the front door I’ll start the film and I bet you that I’ll be back even before it’s over.”
“I’m allowed to watch a video on my own?”
“Just for today. Just this once because it’s very important.”
Her mum tidied up the living room, pulling the big armchair in front of the television. She put a glass of squash and a bowl of crisps on the coffee table. Beside it were a couple of tiny chocolate bars.
“You’re not to answer the front door to anybody. Nobody at all. Do you understand?”
Jennifer nodded, feeling very serious.
“Nor the telephone. Just let it ring. The answerphone will pick it up. And. . .” Her mum looked around, hesitating. “Don’t touch anything. Things that you shouldn’t. . .”
Her sentence hung in mid-air and then she looked at her watch.
“I’ll have to run. You’ll be all right, won’t you. Look, it’s two o’clock. I’ll be a couple of hours, probably. Back at five at the latest. . . You can watch the video. Then the telly. You’ll be fine.”
And then she left. She didn’t return until eight o’clock. Jennifer was on her own for five hours. The flat got dark but she and Macy sat tightly together on the settee, the light from the television making the room look blue.
After that it was easy. Her mum left her on her own for a few hours, a whole morning or afternoon, a day that seemed to stretch out for ever. Just now and then at first. Then once every week, a couple of times every week, then every afternoon after school.
Jennifer got used to being alone. What choice did she have?
Alice was lying back on the pillow, the photograph loosely in her fingers. From somewhere else in the flat she could smell meat cooking and hear the sizzle of the frying pan. Rosie was making something. There was the clink of cutlery and the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing. She even thought she could hear some low music
No one really understood. Did your mum abuse you? the counsellors said. Did she hit you? Hurt you? What about all the men she knew? Did any of them touch you?
Just after her sixth birthday Simone refused to look after her any more. Instead of seeing her moon face at the school gates she would now see her mum, her blonde hair blown here and there by the wind. She wasn’t always cheerful, and sometimes she forgot to put her red lipstick on, but Jennifer was thrilled to see her all the same.
One day a photographer rang. He had some work for her mum. The receiver made a ding noise as her mum replaced it and she danced up and down the tiny hallway. Jennifer and Macy watched.
“All I need is to get my foot back in the door,” her mum said, peeling off her clothes, standing stark naked at the bathroom door.
Her foot in the door . It was an odd image and Jennifer thought about it for a few minutes. Then she took Macy into her mum’s bedroom and sat on the bed while she got ready. Her mum sprayed herself with perfume, rubbed cream into her skin, her arms, legs, her stomach and back, her tiny breasts. She was humming and posing in the big mirror like she’d done before, when she’d had lots of model jobs. She held her clothes up, outfit after outfit, almost as many as Macy had.
“The studio’s only ten minutes away. I won’t be more than a couple of hours.”
Jennifer thought of Simone then and felt a rumble of worry.
“Will I have to go to Simone’s?” she said.
Her mum stopped and looked at her for a moment.
“No, love. Not today.”
Jennifer pursed her lips. Did that she mean she had to go to Gran’s?
“I want you to be a really big girl today and stay on your own. That’s all right, isn’t it?”
Jennifer was surprised.
“On my own?” she said. “By myself?”
“Like a really big girl. I’m going to leave you in the front room with a video on. I’ve got some drink and biscuits and when I go out the front door I’ll start the film and I bet you that I’ll be back even before it’s over.”
“I’m allowed to watch a video on my own?”
“Just for today. Just this once because it’s very important.”
Her mum tidied up the living room, pulling the big armchair in front of the television. She put a glass of squash and a bowl of crisps on the coffee table. Beside it were a couple of tiny chocolate bars.
“You’re not to answer the front door to anybody. Nobody at all. Do you understand?”
Jennifer nodded, feeling very serious.
“Nor the telephone. Just let it ring. The answerphone will pick it up. And. . .” Her mum looked around, hesitating. “Don’t touch anything. Things that you shouldn’t. . .”
Her sentence hung in mid-air and then she looked at her watch.
“I’ll have to run. You’ll be all right, won’t you. Look, it’s two o’clock. I’ll be a couple of hours, probably. Back at five at the latest. . . You can watch the video. Then the telly. You’ll be fine.”
And then she left. She didn’t return until eight o’clock. Jennifer was on her own for five hours. The flat got dark but she and Macy sat tightly together on the settee, the light from the television making the room look blue.
After that it was easy. Her mum left her on her own for a few hours, a whole morning or afternoon, a day that seemed to stretch out for ever. Just now and then at first. Then once every week, a couple of times every week, then every afternoon after school.
Jennifer got used to being alone. What choice did she have?
Alice was lying back on the pillow, the photograph loosely in her fingers. From somewhere else in the flat she could smell meat cooking and hear the sizzle of the frying pan. Rosie was making something. There was the clink of cutlery and the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing. She even thought she could hear some low music
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