TRAPPED by JACQUI ROSE Page B

given time and the right family, her daughter would soon forget about her. She’d be able to blossom and grow into a flower, rather than being stunted by the life she had now. But how would Maggie let her go? She loved her daughter so much, the idea of not being part of her life was almost too much to bear. But then if she loved her daughter, truly loved her, wouldn’t she let her go? Love h er by setting her free.
    Father Maloney chanted loudly the holy sacrament in Latin, shocking Maggie out of her thoughts. She stared down at the marbled floor.
    The church service was over, much to Tommy’s relief. Though he would’ve rather have done without leaving the cool of the church to walk down the overbearing Soho streets.
    During the whole service Maggie had kept her eyes on him, but he’d stared ahead at the altar, listening to Father Maloney’s uninspiring sermon. But he’d known. Known she wanted him to look at her. Wanted to give him her warmest smile. He didn’t know how to give her what she wanted. Didn’t she realise that coming too close would only hurt her? And the worst thing about it was, he probably wouldn’t even be able to stop himself.
    Tommy continued to walk up Greek Street as the sun beat down on the back of his neck. He didn’t want to go straight home, so decided instead to stop off at the coffee shop on the corner of Frith Street and get himself a double espresso.
    As he stood in the queue of the overheated and under air-conditioned coffee shop, he watched the waitress struggling to walk about behind the tiny counter.
    He watched her in fascination as she leant over the sandwiches on the counter. Rolls of swollen fat hidden under her ill-fitted jumper. Her colossal weight leaning just above the food, passing over it like a solar eclipse.
    Tommy looked at her mouth. For all her size she was pretty. Young and pretty. The voice at the back of his head came from nowhere as it always did. Making a noise, until it became louder and louder. The din turning into a scream.
    The blood from her nose ran into the back of her mouth. And Tommy watched as it choked her. Her face was covered in dirt whilst she struggled for breath. The gag was still tight. Her eyes wide open, staring directly into his.
    ‘Tommy?’
    Maggie stood next to him, a look of concern on her beautiful face. As his thoughts were broken, Tommy realised he’d been clenching his fists so tightly his little fingernail had dug into his palm, drawing blood. He could feel his face covered in perspiration while the adrenalin pumping through his body started to dissipate.
    ‘Tommy, are you okay? I saw you come in here, thought we could have a coffee together.’
    Tommy stared at his sister. He was breathing hard and he could feel his chest heaving rapidly but he didn’t say anything.
    ‘Tommy, what have you done to your hand, babe? It’s bleeding.’
    Maggie tried to take hold of Tommy’s hand but he pulled it sharply back as he pushed his way out of the coffee shop, his blue eyes narrowing. ‘Just leave me alone, Maggie. Do yourself a favour and leave me a-fucking-lone.’
    ‘Tommy! Wait … Tommy …’
    It was too late. He’d gone.
    Maggie let herself into the house, her thoughts filled with worry. Worry for Harley. For Tommy. For Nicky. For her mother. So many people to worry about. But anxiety wasn’t getting her anywhere. Action, not fear, changed things – yet she didn’t know what to do, and this feeling of helplessness made her feel weak; vulnerable. It made Maggie Donaldson feel scared.
    Maggie was relieved to find the house was quiet for once, though the cool silence of the Donaldson household also emphasised how void of warmth and love it also was.
    Lying on her bed, she looked around her bedroom. Her room had been the only safe haven in the house when she was growing up. As a child she’d tried to leave the chaos on the other side of the white panelled door.
    There was a tiny tap on her door and Maggie knew immediately who