A Sister's Secret Read online

  It really rattled me even though I tried not to let it get me down. I knew it was mean of me to be angry with her as she’d been through some awful things too.

  ‘OK,’ I sighed. ‘I’ll come.’

  ‘Great,’ smiled Laraine. ‘We’ll have an ace time, Deb, I promise.’

  Laraine put on some blue mascara in the mirror while I pulled on a pair of boy’s jeans and one of David’s baggy sweatshirts that I’d nicked from his bedroom.

  ‘Oh, Deb,’ she sighed. ‘Don’t go out in that baggy shapeless stuff you always wear. People will think you’re a bloke!

  ‘You’ll never get a boyfriend looking like that.’

  ‘Good,’ I said.

  Little did my sister know, but that was the biggest compliment that she could ever pay me. That’s exactly why I dressed the way I did.

  ‘You know everyone at school thinks you’re a lesbian, Deb?’ she told me.

  ‘Don’t bother me one bit,’ I said, shrugging my shoulders. ‘They can think what they like. Anyway, it’s better than being a slag like some people.’

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them.

  ‘Sometimes, Deb, you can be a real bitch,’ said Laraine with tears in her eyes.

  I didn’t mean to be horrible but sometimes I still really resented her. Laraine didn’t know what had happened to me with our father and Patrick Ryan, and she had been through hell, too, but she had coped with being abused so differently to me. Ever since she’d been old enough, she’d had boyfriends and I guessed that she was probably sexually active, like most of the girls at school.

  Laraine seemed to need the reassurance of having a boyfriend and I knew underneath it all, she just wanted to be loved. But it was completely different to the way I felt. I couldn’t imagine ever being in a relationship or wanting to sleep with a man. The only bloke I trusted was David, my brother. So I really didn’t care if the whole school thought that I was a lesbian.

  Let them think what they like, I told myself. At least then lads would leave me alone and want nothing to do with me.

  The party at the youth club was as bad as I’d expected. There were couples snogging in every corner or draped over each other on the dance floor, wandering hands everywhere. Boys never tried to chat me up because of the way I looked but one spotty lad came sauntering over to me.

  He’s brave, I thought. Or else he’d been put up to it by his mates as a joke.

  ‘Do you fancy a dance?’ he said. ‘I love a bit of Spandau Ballet, me.’

  ‘Just fuck off, will you,’ I said bluntly.

  An angry look flashed across his face.

  ‘Don’t speak to me like that, you dyke.’

  ‘Well, then you know why I’m not interested,’ I snapped, and he soon wandered off.

  I came across as so tough and hard-faced but really it was all an act. It was a big cover-up to try and disguise the fact that inside I still felt like a frightened little girl, terrified that someone was going to hurt me again.

  ‘Oh, Debbie, you’re angry all the time and so hard to get along with,’ Mum would tell me. ‘Why can’t you be more like your sister?’

  I knew I was being argumentative but I couldn’t stop myself. I was determined that no one was going to pick on me ever again. If there was a fight, it was because I had started it: I was the one in control.

  I knew Mum worried about me. We were tucking into a dinner of beef stew one night when she glanced over at me and smiled.

  ‘What?’ I said.

  ‘I was just thinking you look so much better with a bit of weight back on. Don’t she, girls?’

  Laraine and Davina nodded in agreement.

  ‘Yeah, Deb, you got a cracking little figure,’ said Laraine. ‘You should show it off more.’

  It was the worst thing anyone could have said to me and it was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. I’d been a chubby kid but in my early teens I’d gone off food. It sounds strange but because of the disgusting things Patrick Ryan had made me do to him, I hated the feeling of anything being in my mouth. For years I’d just picked at meals and I’d got really skinny. But with all the sport I’d been doing recently, I was genuinely hungry, so I’d started eating properly again and had put on a bit of weight without noticing.

  ‘Hey, Debbie, with a few curves you might even find yourself a husband before long,’ said David.

  He was only being nice but I hated compliments. I didn’t want to look ‘nice’ as that might mean that I looked attractive to men.

  ‘I need the loo,’ I mumbled, going off to the bathroom.

  I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked at my short hair and the baggy boy’s clothes I was wearing. What had Patrick Ryan made me become? But I didn’t want to look nice, I couldn’t risk the thought of a man trying it on with me. So I closed my eyes and stuck two fingers down the back of my throat. I gagged and retched and eventually I was sick.

  After that, I’d make myself sick after every meal. It felt good to be in control and I liked the fact that I was losing weight again. No one ever suspected anything and as far as my family was aware, I was eating all my meals. Mum would look so pleased as she cleared my clean plate away, not realising what I was up to in the bathroom while she did the washing up.

  I hated everything about myself. If anyone ever tried to compliment me or said I looked nice or smart, I wouldn’t wear those clothes again. As I got older and approached my eighteenth birthday, it became even more apparent to me how wrong the foster parents, my father and then Patrick Ryan had been to do those awful things to me. I was just a child for God’s sake and I knew now what a huge betrayal of trust and power it had been. I just couldn’t forget the past, no matter how hard I tried.

  I might have put on this hard-faced act but I was only human and soon the strain of pretending to be like that all the time did start to get to me. I’d stayed on in the sixth form to do English A-level and wherever I went in school people would whisper about me or call me ‘Debbie the dyke’. At first it had seemed like the easiest option to let everyone think I was a lesbian, but I was getting fed up of being the butt of everyone’s jokes. So I came up with a plan.

  My brother David had a friend who he was always mentioning to me.

  For months he’d been telling me, ‘Ryan really fancies you. Will you go out with him? Go on, Deb, give him a chance, he’s a nice bloke.’

  I’d always told him where to go, of course, but suddenly I changed my mind. I thought if I went out with a lad, even for a few weeks, it might shut people up for a bit and they would leave me alone.

  So the next time David told me that Ryan had been asking about me again, I said, ‘Oh, that’s nice of him. Do you think he’d like to go for a walk in Greenwich Park with me sometime?’

  I could see David was surprised that I’d changed my mind.

  ‘Oh er, all right then, Debbie, if you’re sure then I’ll get him to ring you.’

  Ryan seemed like a decent enough bloke although I didn’t find him in the least bit attractive. He was tall and skinny and he had long ginger hair. We used to go out for a walk or he’d come round to our house and watch telly, and even though I didn’t fancy him, we got along OK. Sometimes he would try and kiss me but I would just gently push him away.

  My plan worked. The lesbian rumours stopped and I could see how relieved everyone was that I was going out with a bloke and was finally ‘normal’ in their eyes.

  We’d been going out with each other a few months and were up in my bedroom one day, playing tapes. We were sat together on the bed when Ryan leaned over and said, ‘You know I really like you, Debbie?’

  I just froze. I knew instantly that he was going to try it on with me.

  He pushed me back onto the bed and before I could stop him, put his tongue into my mouth. I could feel him stroking my leg through my tracksuit bottoms, his hand getting higher and higher up my thigh. My heart started pounding with fear as I felt his fingers between my legs. Just like the foste
r parents had done, just like my father, just like evil Patrick Ryan. Suddenly I was that frightened little girl again.

  My instincts kicked in and I knew I had to get him off me before he went any further. I managed to push him away and I reached across and opened the top drawer of my bedside table. I fumbled around until I felt the cold chill of metal against my fingers.

  ‘What the—?’ gasped Ryan as I flicked the Stanley knife out of its cover and pressed the blade to his cheek.

  ‘If you ever dare touch me again then I will stab you with this,’ I said. ‘And believe me, I mean every word.’

  I think it was my calmness that freaked him out even more.

  ‘You mad bitch,’ he said, running to the door.

  As soon as he’d gone, the calm, controlled Debbie disappeared and I started shaking like a leaf. I could hear Ryan shouting at Laraine downstairs.

  ‘Your sister’s mental,’ he said. ‘She pulled a fucking knife on me. She’s supposed to be my girlfriend.’

  I didn’t feel safe until I heard the front door slam behind him.

  Laraine came in to see me.

  ‘He didn’t look very happy,’ she said. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Yep,’ I nodded. ‘I don’t think you’ll be seeing much of Ryan any more.’

  ‘Oh, Deb,’ she sighed. ‘I wish you could meet someone special.’

  Ryan was obviously not very happy that I’d shunned his advances and over the next few days he managed to spread rumours all round the school that I definitely was a lesbian. I don’t think there was anyone in Greenwich who didn’t know that I was a ‘frigid little dyke’ as he’d so nicely put it. I tried not to let it get to me but it was hard.

  ‘Is it true what he’s saying, Debbie?’ David asked me. ‘I don’t mind. If you prefer women then that’s none of my business.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid,’ I told him. ‘He’s just pissed off that I didn’t put out for him.’

  ‘Well, it’s going all round school,’ said Laraine. ‘It’s really embarrassing, Deb.’

  Even my own family was ashamed of me.

  ‘You can all believe what you want to believe,’ I shouted before storming out.

  That night I took myself off to bed early, but before long something woke me from my sleep. I could feel a heavy weight pressing down on me, so heavy that I couldn’t breathe. Hands were holding my wrists down so I couldn’t move.

  Oh God, someone was on top of me.

  I tried to struggle but I was powerless. Then I felt hot breath on my neck and smelled that familiar pungent smell: stale beer mixed with sweat.

  And suddenly he was there in my bedroom. Patrick Ryan.

  ‘Open your fucking eyes, you little whore.’

  ‘No!’ I screamed. ‘No! Get off me. You can’t hurt me any more.’

  But he could and as he forced himself inside me, I felt that horrible, burning pain that felt like I was being ripped in two…

  The next thing I knew Laraine was stood by my bed in her pyjamas, shaking me awake.

  ‘Deb,’ she whispered. ‘Deb, are you OK? I heard you shouting. You must have been having a nightmare.’

  ‘What?’ I mumbled as I started to come round. ‘Where is he? Has he gone?’

  ‘Who?’ she said. ‘Deb, there’s no one here.’

  My head was spinning but slowly I started to breathe normally again as I told myself over and over again that it wasn’t real and Patrick Ryan couldn’t hurt me any more.

  ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ Laraine asked, and I nodded.

  But the truth was, I was far from it. I would never ever forget what Patrick Ryan had done to me but for years I’d tried to push him to the back of my mind. His voice, his smell, his dirty clothes, the disgusting things that he’d done to me. But Ryan trying it on with me had triggered something in my mind and brought it all back as if it had happened yesterday. I was that bewildered, frightened little girl again.

  Most nights after that were the same. I’d feel like Patrick Ryan was on top of me, squeezing the air out of my lungs as he thrust into me again and again. It was all so frighteningly real. I’d wake up sweating and shaking, petrified and unable to breathe. Then I’d stagger to the bathroom, where I would be violently sick.

  After weeks and weeks of flashbacks and nightmares it all got too much. I was still throwing up most of my meals and I was down to six stone. One morning I woke up and I literally couldn’t get out of bed. I sat there and sobbed for hours.

  ‘What is it, Debbie?’ said Mum. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘I can’t get out of bed,’ I cried. ‘I can’t do it any more.’

  ‘I’m going to call the doctor,’ she said, looking worried.

  The GP diagnosed me with depression and put me on some medication. It took weeks and weeks but very slowly, it started to help.

  I could see Laraine was really worried about me.

  ‘What is it, Deb?’ she said. ‘Why are you so unhappy?’

  For a second I thought about telling her what our dad had done and what Patrick Ryan had put me through too to protect her. But I couldn’t, the words just got stuck in my throat.

  ‘I don’t know, Lal,’ I sobbed.

  I’d never told Laraine because I didn’t want her to know. I still felt so ashamed, so dirty and disgusted about what he had done to me. I didn’t want her to blame herself either.

  Although Laraine and I were so different, after everything we had been through together we did have an unspoken bond. I would still look out for her and I always knew where she was and with whom. My worst fear was that she would be treated badly by a bloke, so I was worried when she turned sixteen and got her first serious boyfriend. Danny was twenty-one and one of Dave’s friends from the garage where they worked as mechanics.

  The age difference bothered me. At seventeen I still saw Laraine as a child and I didn’t want her to be taken advantage of.

  ‘Isn’t he a bit old for you, Lal?’ I said.

  ‘He’s lovely,’ she sighed and I could see that she absolutely adored him.

  But as the months passed and we all got to know Danny and saw how nicely he treated Laraine, I warmed to him a bit more. I knew that the one thing Laraine wanted in the world was to get married.

  ‘I can’t wait to settle down and have kids,’ she always told me.

  I was really happy for her but I wasn’t envious. I didn’t need anyone in my life, I didn’t want to rely on anybody.

  Danny used to see Laraine on certain nights each week but after they’d been going out for a while, he started making excuses.

  ‘I don’t understand it, Deb,’ she confided in me. ‘Do you think he’s going off me?’

  She was really upset. I was no expert on blokes but in my mind I was worried that he was seeing someone else. Then I noticed something else. The nights Danny was ringing up and saying that he couldn’t make it coincided with the nights that Laraine would mention her best friend Sonia was going out. She and Laraine had been best mates for years and she was always round our house. The pair of them enjoyed getting dressed up and going out.

  That can’t be right, I told myself. She wouldn’t do that to her best friend, would she? I’d just put two and two together and got five.

  But I couldn’t get rid of my suspicions. One night Laraine mentioned that Danny had cancelled another date with her.

  ‘I’m so fed up, Deb,’ she said. ‘I can’t even invite Sonia round because she’s out tonight too.’

  Sonia only lived around the corner from us so just to make sure, I decided I was going to follow her. She called round to our house before she went out.

  ‘I’m just off up the youth club but I’ve got nothing to wear,’ she said. ‘Can I borrow some of your clothes, Laraine?’

  ‘Course you can,’ she said. ‘Come in.’

  She lent Sonia one of her dresses and even did her make-up for her. Surely I’d got it wrong? But as I watched Sonia saunter up the street in her high heels and Laraine’s clothes, I saw a
car waiting for her around the corner: Danny’s car. I couldn’t believe it when I saw her jump into the passenger seat and lean over for a passionate kiss.

  All I could think was poor Laraine. Both of them were taking advantage of her kind, sweet nature. Danny was her first love and Sonia was her best mate. I knew she was going to be devastated.

  The next day Sonia came round after school.

  ‘Did you have a nice time last night?’ asked Laraine.

  ‘Oh yeah, I just went up to the youth club,’ she said. ‘Nothing special.’

  But I couldn’t just sit there and let Sonia lie to Laraine like that.

  ‘OK, Sonia,’ I said. ‘I think you need to tell my sister where you really were last night. Or should I say who you were with?’

  Her face fell and she looked guilty as hell.

  ‘What do you mean, Debbie?’ she said. ‘I told you I was at the youth club.’

  ‘I said tell her where you’ve really been.’

  Laraine looked confused.

  ‘What’s this all about, Deb? Why are you being so mean to Sonia?’

  But Sonia wouldn’t tell Laraine so in the end, I did. I knew she was going to be devastated but I just couldn’t sit there and watch her being deceived like that.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ she sobbed. ‘I thought he loved me.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ said Sonia. ‘It just happened.’

  Laraine was gutted and unsurprisingly she and Sonia fell out really badly over it.

  It took Laraine a long time to get over that and it really knocked her confidence. But finally, months later, she met someone else. Brendan Delgiudice also worked with David. She’d been talking to him on and off when he’d come home from work with David and they started seeing each other. She’d finally come to accept that Sonia and Danny were together and in a serious relationship and it was nice to see her happy again.