guess that means he’s still interested. I confide in Samara and she agrees and says I did totally the right thing.
‘Treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen, girl. That’s what it’s all about.’
Nodding, I store that one away for future reference. I thought I’d learned most of the rules, seems I still have a long way to go. After lunch we both have free periods and I go back to Samara’s, she puts on MTV and I make mentalnotes. Daisy’s clearly watched some of these videos way too many times; I remembered her dancing in the pub. She has all the right moves and all the right clothes. All the swagger. I sigh. Craig will never look at me while she’s around. Samara says that’s not true and that I’m just as pretty. I can’t help but smile. I’ve always wanted to have a friend and it feels better than I imagined, rich and warm in my tummy and throat, like the hot chocolate Granny would give us after we’d been to the park. Samara’s mum bustles in and out with drinks and snacks. She grins widely at me and invites me back; apparently if I’m the
vicar’s daughter then I must be a Nice Girl, not like Daisy, who’s a Bad Influence. That’s what Samara whispers to me as I leave in a flurry of further invitations. We giggle and I swing my bag on to my shoulder, promising to see about asking Craig if she can show up at his party, and head off, feeling better than I have in ages.
Floating home I don’t notice anyone’s walking to catch up with me until it’s too late. He grips my arm, that tight grip I know so well and I swing round to face him.
‘Not staying behind at school tonight, Hephzibah?’
I shake my head. What is my father doing, trailing round after me, creeping up on me in the street?
‘I’ve been out, doing my visits, there are a lot of people in this village who need me, you know, Hephzibah.’
‘I know.’
‘Indeed. Well, it’s strange. Perhaps you can help me to clear up a bit of a mystery?’ His voice is cool, a dangerous, dark pool into which I could topple without a trace.
‘Yeah?’
‘Someone said they’d seen you last weekend, last Friday night, in fact. Wandering the streets.’
‘What?’
‘Well?’ His grip tightens and I try to pull away. His face is grim. ‘I certainly hope I can trust you, Hephzibah.’
‘T-they must have been mistaken,’ I stutter.
‘If I choose, I can soon put paid to your little college ambitions. You’d be wise to remember that, wouldn’t you?’
I nod. He releases my arm but stays too close, walking almost so our shoulders touch. I think he’s finished but he starts up again.
‘What I mean to say is, just to be precise, I don’t want to hear any more stories about a daughter of mine behaving like a whore.’ He leans in on the final words, hisses them into my ear. I nod frantically, desperately.
Rebecca hates him but, because he’s been a bit less harsh to me, I can pretend not to. I do what I do to survive. Even if that means acting like the worst of what he does isn’t really happening. I’m not strong like Reb, but she’s stupid, too. You can see the loathing coming off her in radioactive waves and he gets her for it, time and again.
‘I hope you’re studying hard.’ I swallow and nod. ‘Your mother was no good at school. She didn’t need to be, she married me. Women’s ambitions are best served in the home, Hephzibah. It’s a modern world and people expect modern attitudes, but personally I think old ways are best. Don’t you agree?’
His conversational tone is just as dangerous as his threats and I pick up my pace. He matches me easily.
‘I said, don’t you agree?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘So we’ll have no more of this nonsense.’
‘Oh, but I really want to finish the year. Please.’ I make my voice soft and wheedling and try one of the smiles that usually help me get my way.
‘We’ll see.’
My only chance of getting out is about to vanish. Panicking, I think hard for reasons to justify what I’m
‘Treat ’em mean, keep ’em keen, girl. That’s what it’s all about.’
Nodding, I store that one away for future reference. I thought I’d learned most of the rules, seems I still have a long way to go. After lunch we both have free periods and I go back to Samara’s, she puts on MTV and I make mentalnotes. Daisy’s clearly watched some of these videos way too many times; I remembered her dancing in the pub. She has all the right moves and all the right clothes. All the swagger. I sigh. Craig will never look at me while she’s around. Samara says that’s not true and that I’m just as pretty. I can’t help but smile. I’ve always wanted to have a friend and it feels better than I imagined, rich and warm in my tummy and throat, like the hot chocolate Granny would give us after we’d been to the park. Samara’s mum bustles in and out with drinks and snacks. She grins widely at me and invites me back; apparently if I’m the
vicar’s daughter then I must be a Nice Girl, not like Daisy, who’s a Bad Influence. That’s what Samara whispers to me as I leave in a flurry of further invitations. We giggle and I swing my bag on to my shoulder, promising to see about asking Craig if she can show up at his party, and head off, feeling better than I have in ages.
Floating home I don’t notice anyone’s walking to catch up with me until it’s too late. He grips my arm, that tight grip I know so well and I swing round to face him.
‘Not staying behind at school tonight, Hephzibah?’
I shake my head. What is my father doing, trailing round after me, creeping up on me in the street?
‘I’ve been out, doing my visits, there are a lot of people in this village who need me, you know, Hephzibah.’
‘I know.’
‘Indeed. Well, it’s strange. Perhaps you can help me to clear up a bit of a mystery?’ His voice is cool, a dangerous, dark pool into which I could topple without a trace.
‘Yeah?’
‘Someone said they’d seen you last weekend, last Friday night, in fact. Wandering the streets.’
‘What?’
‘Well?’ His grip tightens and I try to pull away. His face is grim. ‘I certainly hope I can trust you, Hephzibah.’
‘T-they must have been mistaken,’ I stutter.
‘If I choose, I can soon put paid to your little college ambitions. You’d be wise to remember that, wouldn’t you?’
I nod. He releases my arm but stays too close, walking almost so our shoulders touch. I think he’s finished but he starts up again.
‘What I mean to say is, just to be precise, I don’t want to hear any more stories about a daughter of mine behaving like a whore.’ He leans in on the final words, hisses them into my ear. I nod frantically, desperately.
Rebecca hates him but, because he’s been a bit less harsh to me, I can pretend not to. I do what I do to survive. Even if that means acting like the worst of what he does isn’t really happening. I’m not strong like Reb, but she’s stupid, too. You can see the loathing coming off her in radioactive waves and he gets her for it, time and again.
‘I hope you’re studying hard.’ I swallow and nod. ‘Your mother was no good at school. She didn’t need to be, she married me. Women’s ambitions are best served in the home, Hephzibah. It’s a modern world and people expect modern attitudes, but personally I think old ways are best. Don’t you agree?’
His conversational tone is just as dangerous as his threats and I pick up my pace. He matches me easily.
‘I said, don’t you agree?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘So we’ll have no more of this nonsense.’
‘Oh, but I really want to finish the year. Please.’ I make my voice soft and wheedling and try one of the smiles that usually help me get my way.
‘We’ll see.’
My only chance of getting out is about to vanish. Panicking, I think hard for reasons to justify what I’m
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