Chapter 7
i
Daryl
We sat round the campfire with our beers and our smokes when Merle edged closer and drew me to him. I had just put out my cigarette on the grass of the field we'd stopped in and I was still furious with him. I tensed at first but then I let him do whatever he wanted. So he pulled my head down onto his lap before he began to touch my hair like he usually did. Running his fingers through it and brushing it back, tidying it up before stroking it back and forth. And repeating the pattern again, over and over until I felt like dozing off. Like he'd done so often after he found me and Dad together that last time until my body stopped trembling and my panicky breathing slowed and with it, the pain – at first physical as well as mental, faded. Because he always knew how to make it all go away. Make me forget for a while so I could sleep. One hand now, never letting go of his beer, of course, which he kept swigging from. I knew part of why he was doing it was to apologise for the slap earlier because he would never actually say he was sorry. Or say all the things he said with his hands – never with his mouth - that he he wish he'd caught Dad earlier, that he had been there more for me. That he'd been a big brother that I felt I could confide in, that he'd got us out of there long ago and got us our own place together instead of letting Dad do his sick, fucked-up shit to me. But then I had never heard him apologise for anything in his life before and it didn't matter. Because he'd hold me and stroke me like this for hours at times - sometimes on my bed, in front of the TV or in the car and other places since he'd found out what Dad was doing to me and I sighed in defeat because it just felt too damn good.
When nobody except Mama had ever touched me like that for a long time. I even snuggled closer to him despite my anger about what we'd done to Andrea. Somehow – although it sounded crazy- I knew that him doing this had helped chase away my nightmares faster because I hadn't had one for so long. As he'd done it practically every day like he was trying to make up for every sleazy caress of Dad's.
Or for every one of our father's perverted punishments or beatings when he hadn't been there to stop them. And I sensed Merle smirk at our hitchhiker, even though I couldn't see his face, as he tossed her one of his precious beers, challenging her to comment on this display.
But it felt nice, it felt good.
Most of all it made me feel safe and I gave in to the warm feelings of being loved and the waves of affection washing over me. Despite myself, even though I was still seriously pissed at him , I felt my anger reluctantly fade away.
But that was my big brother all over – he'd never loved a woman or cared about them, I think I was the only person in the world he was capable of loving. He only used and abused them like they were his personal playthings or his ATM. Even so, part of me had hoped that he did generally care about Andrea because he had seemed to actually like and respect her more than the others. Because she dared to stand up to him and point out when she thought he was in the wrong. But he'd still stolen from her.
Katrina didn't look surprised – as settled herself down on the other side of the fire. Looked bored even or was she trying to hard to seem that way? As she nursed her beer bottle between her legs between her long skirts.
But I noticed she kept a safe distance.
'So, what's ya story, girl?' My brother drawled at her, still caressing me on his lap making my eyes start to close in contentment, 'Where's ya family? What ya runnin' away from?'
'What are you?' She retorted rudely then clashed eyes with my brother and she glanced down at me. 'I mean – I don't want to sound rude and I'm grateful for the ride an' all but I'd rather not talk about it.'
Merle shrugged. Took a big swig from his bottle. Backed off when he saw he had touched a nerve. 'OK, then. We're all entitled to our secrets, ain't we, Daryl?' He looked down at me meaningfully as our shared secret passed between us and I couldn't help trembling at that. Remembering how he'd found me with Dad and what we'd done. Kicked myself for being so easily affected – all anyone had to do was mention my father and I started reacting like a scared little kid again. Like he was still there. I really was a sissy, a pussy, but to my surprise my brother didn't call me that – instead he hugged me closer to him then.
'Now girl, I don't mean to sound like an asshole but we're kind of desperate. That means that if ya gonna keep ridin' with us, ya gotta earn ya keep.'
She immediately stiffened and I sensed something dark flutter across her mind even though it was dusk and I couldn't see her face clearly. 'What do ya mean?'
'No, no ain't nothin' like that. I ain't gonna touch ya or do anythin' like that, I promise.' Merle understood her fear immediately and dismissed it. 'But ya see, we ain't got no money until we can sell the shit in the car. Now, ya been on the streets a while by the looks of ya...' He looked at her unwashed hair and her dirt-encrusted clothes. She hadn't smelled too fresh in the car either. Probably none of us did after 2 days on the road. The days were starting to get warmer too.
I didn't know why we just didn't go back home – they'd obviously decided that Dad was just a missing person or go somewhere else and settle down and find jobs. But he was right, we had no money.
She rolled her eyes. I knew he was lying – he'd stolen the petty cash from the tin in Andrea's cupboard but it probably wasn't much. Not for his booze and smokes requirements – not forgetting the drugs when he could get them. Must be getting jittery from his withdrawal symptoms by now.
'No...no I don't mean no offence by it. I mean – ya been around. I'm guessin'ya know how to survive – get food. Steal without getting caught and so on.'
She shrugged. 'I guess. And I don't want to be a passenger – I mean you've given me a ride and ya food and ya drink.'
'What I'm getting at, sweetie (I recognised that velvety tone he used when he was trying to seduce a woman or persuade her to do something questionable in bed) is do ya know how to rob a store without getting caught?'
She didn't even look shocked. 'Sure. I used to do it all the time with...with...' She stopped and I sensed this person or people she was talking about was still a painful subject. I'd always been good at figuring people out, hearing what they left unsaid. Filling in the blanks. Was she talking about her boyfriend or companions when something bad had happened to them? She was obviously a street kid.
I was starting to get drowsy, my lids were fluttering under his hand. Merle noticed this and stifled his own yawn. 'Time to sleep, kids.' He announced, carrying on this big brother/uncle act as he released me and shoved me away from him. I went back to my blanket on the ground nearby and lay down. Got comfortable, laying out one of the blankets we'd brought with us.
The girl did the same. We'd brought three blankets. Luckily, spring was drawing on after the short Georgian winter and the fire and our coats was enough to keep us warm.
What was it with Merle picking up these women? And did I really trust him with the girl my age?
ii.
Andrea
I came home to find most of my stuff gone and screamed in fury. Was about to pick up the phone to call the police. Then I noticed my PC in the corner with all my school work on it and dropped the receiver with a bang onto the desk. How considerate. I thought bitterly – the bastard knew how important it was for my career so he left me that but then I noticed the the piece of folded paper poking from the corner.
Sorry. I read. Thanks for everythingbut we didn't have no choice. Don't blame you if you want to call the cops but by the time they come, we'll be far away.
M. and D.
Merle! I screamed again. Not just from rage but a sense of loss to. I wasn't dumb enough to think that we were ever going to get married or anything like that but I had thought we at least had a special connection. And I found myself missing Daryl – his sweet smile in the mornings because I'd cared about him too. Had known that the brothers came as a package. I sighed, still debating with myself whether I should call the police until I heard the knocking on my door.
It was Daniel. He didn't know about Merle – I'd just dumped him and refused to see him – telling him that we'd grown apart since the holiday but not giving him any decent, real reason.
Yes – I'd been a bitch to him so I guess she deserved everything I got. Sometimes Karma was a bitch when she paid you back.
He came in, with a big bunch of roses. Trying his luck again but this time I'd let him in. But he washesitant – not knowing whether to hug me or not until I threw my arms around him in relief. 'I've been robbed!' I cried. He looked round suspiciously. 'It doesn't look like they broke in.'
I slapped my forehead dramatically. 'I am such an idiot – I must have forgot to lock the front door. The insurance'll never pay up now. Not worth phoning the police either – they'll just laugh at me.'
'Come here.' He said as he wrapped his arms around me. 'I don't think you're an idiot. You could never be an idiot to me.' He kissed my forehead soothingly.
Then I remembered how special he was to me because Merle probably would have called me an idiot. And told me it was all my own fault. But wasn't it? Wasn't his refreshing honesty one of the things that had attracted me to him in the first place?
'I'm so sorry, I've been such a bitch to you.' I sobbed on his shoulder. ' Can you ever forgive me?'
His passionate yet tentative kisses raining down on my face answered me for him.
iii
Miranda – 'Mira' to people who were close to her in whom she confided her real name tried to sleep as she tossed and turned. Finally, with a sigh, she reluctantly opened her little tin box of dwindling pills – downers - to calm herself down. She'd been trying to save them. Maybe it was the man – despite his avuncular act and his promises she couldn't help being wary of him – sensed the undercurrent of danger and threat running through him. His whole body seemed to bristle with dangerous energy. The boy seemed harmless – was skinny – looked about her own age. But then didn't she always feel like this to most fully-grown men? She'd lived on the streets for long enough – had narrowly avoided a few scrapes with some of them until she figured out she needed to find a group for protection. But still living rough had been better than staying at home. At least she had some control over her own life and she'd found out that a young girl like herself was easy prey until she learnt to protect herself. So she felt for knife and found its reassuring point in the folds of her skirts – deep in her pocket where she could easily reach it if she needed it.
But the man – Johnnie so he called himself was snoring or was he just pretending to lull her into a false sense of security?
She didn't wonder about this for long as her own exhaustion and the valium finally kicked in after a while and she fell asleep.
