Closed Doors by O'Donnell Lisa

Author:O'Donnell, Lisa [O'Donnell, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2013-07-03T18:30:00+00:00

TWENTY-FIVE

MISS CONNOR IDENTIFIES Patrick Thompson as the rapist and everyone believes her except Ma, Granny and Da. I don’t believe her either but only because I believe my ma, who says the attacker smoked in her face, and Patrick Thompson doesn’t smoke at all. The attacker also wore a gold chain on his wrist like the one Suzanne Miller saw and since Miss Connor can’t remember anything about the man who hurt her the chain is not considered important enough, and because Ma won’t tell about her attack or the gold chain it just disappears from the evidence altogether. This is what Da has been saying all week, making Ma shout and cry.

Da is cut up about the whole thing. Patrick Thompson is the same age as my da. They drink in the pub together and sometimes they play darts. He doesn’t live on the scheme. He lives out by the shore in a tenement with his father, who is a very old man with gout, says Granny.

It’s a quiet house again and when words are spoken they’re spiky and sharp. I feel scared again.

When Miss Connor came home it was to Mr McFadden’s house and in a wheelchair pushed by Luke and Dirty Alice. Ma watched them from the window and even when they went into the house it was like she was rooted to the spot. She just stared at the door. Could have burned a hole through it.

Mr McFadden and Miss Connor are still to be married but it will be a summer wedding now and Granny says the sooner the better because it is sinful of Miss Connor and Mr McFadden to live together when they’re not blessed by the Pope.

‘What the fuck are you talking about? Louisa Connor has already been in hell and didn’t we send her there ourselves?’ screams Da.

Granny curls up at this and lights a fag.

Everyone has been very nice to Miss Connor since she came back, sending all kinds of lovely things to the house, but we didn’t, not even a card.

The house is cold and Christmas is around the corner. I don’t believe in Santa but I still want presents and I am worried Ma and Da have forgotten about me altogether.

I also worry for my new trousers. Every Christmas time I get a pair to match whatever jumper Granny or Ma has knitted for the school dance. When I remind Granny about the party she is delighted to produce the red-and-white jersey she knitted in the summertime. It’s the most horrible thing you’ve ever seen, but it’s also what I have to wear to the school dance and so I don’t complain. Ma buys the trousers from McMillan’s on the high street and they are too small for my legs. She never gets anything right. She’s even stopped doing her course. It makes me angry and I want to scream at her for being so stupid for not noticing my size. I can actually see my ankles in

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