'Surely you're not still trying to protect the boy, Debs?'
'I swear, Mum, I'm not. Charlie's history. If he's touched my girls, I don't care if I never see him again. Having said that, I don't want the police knocking on my door asking me to identify his body. And, believe me, if word gets out, that is exactly what will happen.'
June nodded reluctantly. A mother herself, she understood her daughter's dilemma.
With the subject closed, both mother and daughter turned their attention to the girls, discussing what to do for the best.
'Look, ring Peter now, Mum, and tell him to bring 'em back. When he gets here, suggest he pops out for a pint or something. I'm gonna take Gracie upstairs and have a little chat with her. You can have a gentle word with Rosie.'
'What do you want me to say?'
'Just talk to her, bring up Charlie in the conversation. Make it light-hearted, you know. Pretend he used to play Doctors and Nurses with you or something, and gently ask if he's ever played it with her. See what she says.'
June nodded and rang Peter.
'Mummy!' Rosie screamed excitedly when she saw Debbie waiting for them at Nanny's.
'How's my two bestest girls in the whole wide world?' she said, pulling them both close to her and hugging them tighter than she ever had before.
'I don't fancy a drink. I'm not thirsty, my love,' Peter said, as June attempted to get him out the house once again.
'Please, Peter, just for an hour.'
He grabbed his car keys and stormed out in a huff. Dallas had nothing on this bloody family! Guessing another drama was on the horizon, he felt like J. R. as he put his foot on the accelerator and left The Close at record speed.
As she watched Rosie playing Hide and Seek with Alfie, Debbie smiled at Gracie. 'Mummy needs a hand with something upstairs. Will you come and help me?'
Opening June's bedroom door, Debbie sat down on the bed and urged her daughter to sit next to her.
'Mummy needs to ask you something, Gracie. It's a very important something and I need you to tell me the truth.'
Gracie braced herself. She guessed her mum was going to ask her about Charlie.
'Me and Nanny were talking earlier and she told me that Charlie used to play games with you ... touching games. Can you tell Mummy exactly what he did, or asked you to do?'
Gracie stared into her lap, shaking her head. 'I can't tell you, Mummy.'
'Why can't you tell me, darling?' Debbie asked tenderly.
'Because Charlie said that if I tell you or Daddy, something bad will happen to Rosie.'
As she took her daughter's little hand in hers, Debbie thought her heart would break. 'Charlie's not going to be living with us any more, darling, and I promise you that nothing bad will happen to Rosie. But you must tell Mummy what he said and did.'
Gracie still look dubious. Reluctantly she explained, 'He said that if I told you, he would chop Rosie up into tiny pieces and boil her in a saucepan.'
'He was only mucking about with you, love, winding you up. He didn't really mean it,' Debbie said, horrified.
'Really? Are you sure, Mummy?' Gracie asked innocently.
'Of course he didn't. Now tell me about these games he made you play?'
No longer frightened that her little sister was to be made into human stew, Gracie opened up. 'I didn't want to play them, Mum, but he made me.'
'What did he make you do, love? You have to tell Mummy. And after you have, I promise we'll never mention it again.'
'The game was called the willy game, Mummy. He made me hold his dinkle and kiss it. He made me put it in my mouth. He said that all sisters played the willy game with their older brothers.'
The horror that Debbie felt at that moment would live with her until the day she died. Her poor little girl, her and Steve's baby, abused by the monster to whom she had given birth.
'Are you okay, Mummy?'
Debbie somehow managed to hide her sadness and disgust from her daughter. 'Did he touch you anywhere, darling?' she made herself ask.
'No, Mummy, never,' the child told her. She seemed quite calm and looked as though she was telling the truth.
'When did these games happen, Gracie. Recently?'
'No, ages ago.'
'How long ago, darling? Try to remember.'
'When I was a little girl.'
Debbie squeezed her hand. 'Just try to remember a bit more, darling. Was it one year, two years, three?'
Gracie shrugged her shoulders. 'Don't know. More than two years, I think. It was when we were in the old house.'
'Good girl,' Debbie said, holding her close. 'Just a couple more questions for you to answer now, Gracie. Where did this happen? And where were Daddy and I?'
'You were downstairs, Mummy. I remember hearing the telly. Charlie used to come into my bedroom when Rosie was asleep.'
Debbie hugged her daughter as tightly as she could and kissed her on the forehead. Trying her best to protect her daughter's innocence, she chose her next words very carefully.
'Look, Gracie. Charlie was a naughty boy and what he made you do was very wrong, but seeing as this happened when he was younger, I don't think he actually meant any harm. I think he was playing Doctors and Nurses with you. It's not unusual. Even Mummy played Doctors and Nurses when she was a little girl.'
'Did you have to kiss Uncle Mickey's dinkle?' Gracie asked, surprised.
Debbie changed the subject quickly. 'Mummy promises you, darling, that you will never, ever have to see Charlie again.'
Gracie's eyes shone as she smiled up at her mother. 'I'm glad, Mummy. I hate him. He was always so horrible to me and Rosie. He said he was going to kill our ponies.'
Debbie took a deep breath. 'Honestly, sweetheart, Mummy promises, Charlie will never get the chance to be horrible to you again. Now can you make me a promise?'
Gracie nodded.
'What we've spoken about today must be kept a secret. It will be our little secret, just mine and yours. We musn't tell Daddy, or Rosie, or anyone else in the whole wide world. Can you promise to do that for me, Gracie?'
'Yes, Mummy. I promise I will never tell anyone. But Nanny already knows, I told her.'
Taking her daughter by the hand, Debbie led her downstairs. 'Go and play with Rosie and Alfie, darling, while Mummy has a chat with Nanny. Your nan will keep our secret, I promise you.'
Gracie smiled and let go of her hand.
Debbie dragged June into the kitchen and asked her the question that she'd been dreading. 'Did you talk to Rosie?'
'Yes, love. He hasn't been anywhere near her. Thank God.'
'Are you sure?' Debbie asked, frantically searching for more alcohol.
'Positive,' June replied, handing her a bottle of Peter's red. 'What did Gracie say?'
Debbie pretended to have a fight with the corkscrew. This was the last lie she would ever tell for her sick, screwed-up son and she didn't want the guilt to show on her face.
'It's not as bad as we first thought, Mum. He definitely never touched her or anything. He just showed her his willy a couple of times and made her kiss it once. Thankfully, it wasn't recently but ages ago, when he was younger himself.'
'How long ago?' June asked, not sure if she was being lied to.
Debbie took a gulp of her drink. 'Oh, yonks ago. Gracie said she was really young. Do you mind if we drop the subject now, Mum? I've had the day from hell and I just wanna relax for a bit before I ring Steve.'
June didn't answer but hugged her daughter instead. What could she say to the girl? There wasn't a word in the world that could comfort or compensate her for what she had just endured.
'Why don't you ring Steve, love, get him to pick you up? You've had too much to drink to risk driving back.'
Debbie smiled at her mum, a false, sad smile that didn't even reach the corners of her mouth. 'I will, Mum, in a bit. I need to get meself together first. You go in there and play with the kids. I need to be alone for a minute, if you don't mind.'
As the door clicked shut, Debbie picked up her drink, wandered out into the garden and sat on the little wooden bench. She felt so let down, so stupid. So much time, effort and energy she'd wasted, trying to turn Charlie into a respectable human being. And, by doing so, she'd let down the rest of her family, the ones who should have been the most important to her. Looking up to the sky, Debbie prayed for forgiveness. She'd failed to protect her own daughter. As a mother, it was the most terrible crime she could have committed.
'Please, God, don't make Gracie suffer because of my stupidity,' she pleaded. She cried then and her tears fell heavier and faster than ever before.
As she spied on her through the window, June saw her daughter crumple. Dashing out to help, she held Debbie close while wiping away her tears.
'You can't blame yourself, love,' she said as Debbie's sobbing finally subsided.
'But it's all my fault, Mum. I sided with Charlie. I loved him too much. I even put him before the rest of my family and look where it got me. All of this is my fault.'
'It's not your fucking fault! Any mother would have done what you've done. I'd probably have done the same if it were Mickey. You have to forget about the past now, Debs. You need to lock all those bad memories away in a box and concentrate on the future. You have two little girls in there who need their mummy very much, and you have a husband who loves you dearly. All right, you've made mistakes, but haven't we all? Look at me I chose Peter over you and Mickey, and lost contact with both of you. How do you think that made me feel? You have to move on, Debs, like I did. You've got to pull yourself together, forget about Charlie and concentrate on the rest of your life.'
'I know you're right,' she said gratefully. June's words were just the shake up she needed. 'Mum, can I ask you a favour? I'm not just protecting Charlie, but I'd die if Steve, Mickey or anyone else found out about all of this. Do you think we can keep it between ourselves?'
Holding her daughter's hand, June looked into her eyes. 'Of course. Look, Debs, in life there's a mixture of people. You've got your saints and your sinners. There's good people out there, there's mediocre, bad ... and then there's pure evil. Me and you are probably in the mediocre category, but as much as I hate to say this to you, Charlie's in the lowest category of all. He was born evil, love, and that's not your fault, my fault, or anyone else's bloody fault.'
Looking at her mum, Debbie found that she could smile again. 'You're so right, Mum. I've wasted years trying to make him into the son I wanted. I've always blamed myself for his bad behaviour when really it's not my fault, is it? I need to move on, don't I, Mum?'
'That's my girl.'
June offered Debbie her hand. 'Let's go inside, love, and see what those beautiful little girls of yours are up to.'
Debbie stood up. She had two wonderful daughters, a loving husband and a great life. Realising just how lucky she was, she finally said goodbye to the black cloud that had haunted her for years. Charlie was the past now, dead in her eyes. As far as she was concerned, he could rot in bloody hell.
FORTY-ONE.
One Year Later
AS THE COOL sea breeze drifted against her skin, Debbie sat up, carefully folded over the page of her novel, and took a much-needed sip of the now warm lemonade in the glass beside her.
What a difference a year makes, she thought as she watched the tranquil waves lap against the shore.
This holiday in Tenerife had been Steve's idea. 'I'm thinking about taking my bitches on holiday,' he'd announced jokingly a fortnight earlier.
'When, Daddy? When?' Gracie and Rosie had screamed, jumping up and down with excitement.
Steve then put his hand in his pocket and surprised them with the tickets.
'Who's the Daddy?' he shouted, grinning at his daughters.
'You are! You are! You are!' they had both screamed.
Gracie and Rosie had changed a lot since Charlie's departure from the family home. They'd both come on in leaps and bounds and were far happier and more confident than they'd ever been.
'It's so much nicer here without him, Mum,' both girls had told Debbie on numerous occasions.
Many more stories of Charlie's unpleasantness had come to light after his departure. Nothing sexual, just bullying, threats and downright nastiness. It didn't take a genius to work out that he'd secretly led his sisters a dog's life.
Debbie had felt terribly guilty for ages, but as the months went by and Gracie showed no ill effects after the little conversation that they'd had, she had begun to feel better about herself.
'Boo!'
Debbie's thoughts were interrupted by Steve creeping up behind her.
'We got you an ice cream, Mummy,' Rosie said, handing her a half-melted cornet.
Sitting down opposite his wife, Steve polished off his Cornetto and smiled at her. 'I'm burnt to fuck, babe. The girls are getting a bit restless so I've told 'em we'll head back to the hotel. They wanna go for a swim in the pool.'
'Will you take 'em back, Steve? You don't mind if I stay here for a bit, do you?'
'You ain't met some fucking waiter and are planning to do a Shirley Valentine on me, are ya?'