BooksBarbecue
Back The Hollows
Chapters (77)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Dedication
  5. PART I
  6. 1.
  7. 2.
  8. 3.
  9. 4.
  10. 5.
  11. 6.
  12. 7.
  13. 8.
  14. PART II
  15. 9.
  16. 10.
  17. 11.
  18. 12.
  19. 13.
  20. 14.
  21. 15.
  22. 16.
  23. 17.
  24. 18.
  25. 19.
  26. 20.
  27. 21.
  28. 22.
  29. 23.
  30. 24.
  31. 25.
  32. 26.
  33. 27.
  34. 28.
  35. 29.
  36. 30.
  37. 31.
  38. 32.
  39. 33.
  40. 34.
  41. 35.
  42. 36.
  43. PART III
  44. 37.
  45. 38.
  46. 39.
  47. 40.
  48. 41.
  49. 42.
  50. 43.
  51. 44.
  52. 45.
  53. 46.
  54. 47.
  55. 48.
  56. 49.
  57. 50.
  58. 51.
  59. 52.
  60. 53.
  61. 54.
  62. 55.
  63. 56.
  64. 57.
  65. 58.
  66. 59.
  67. 60.
  68. 61.
  69. 62.
  70. 63.
  71. 64.
  72. 65.
  73. PART IV
  74. 66.
  75. 67.
  76. 68.
  77. Acknowledgements

Jess hadn’t even wanted the baby; she knew there were ways you could get rid of one, but when she’d said so to Mum, Mum’d hit her so hard across the face Jess’d thought she’d lose teeth. That was wicked, Mum said, fucking disgusting, to want to kill a helpless little baby. She should be ashamed of herself. Mum’d shouted at Paul when she’d found out Jess was pregnant, but she’d never said that. And so Jess had had Baby Joel.

Yes, Baby Joel. Not Baby fucking Steven. Joel was what she’d wanted to call her baby, but Mum’d said that was a shit name, a queer’s name, so this was Baby Steven, after her granddad. Jess didn’t even get to name her own kid. But she’d call him Joel if she wanted, when it was just the two of them. She fucking would.

“See you’ve put some new pictures in,” said Paul. “Love the paper you use. Lovely sound when you rip it.”

She heard the soft purr as paper began to tear.

“Love doing that. Go up lovely in the fire though too, it would. Can’t decide which I’d like best. Which do you, think, Jessie? Or is there something better I could be doing? Mm?”

She bit her wrist, crying without sound.

“Nothing to say? Oh well. Off downstairs then. Poke the fire.”

The floorboards creaked outside.

“Well, Jessie?”

She remembered how it’d hurt having Joel. She was glad of him now – most of the time – because at least he was hers and didn’t treat her like shit, but she wouldn’t have had him, given the choice, and wasn’t having another if she could help it.

And least of all with him.

Jess stood up. Her legs shook. She clenched her fists tight.

“Do what you fucking like, Paul,” she heard her voice say, hating it for its cracked and weepy sound. “You’re still not coming in.”

A silence.

“All right.” he said. “If that’s what you want. All right.”

Jess sat back down, and for long minutes afterwards she listened to the sounds of tearing paper, and Paul grunting with effort as he worked to tear the precious scrapbook into smaller and smaller pieces.

“There, you cunt,” he said at last. “And now I’m gonna fucking burn it.”

The floorboards creaked again; she heard him clomp away down the landing, then on down the stairs.

Joel was still squalling in his cradle. A moment later Keira shouted up the staircase “Will you fucking shut that fucking brat up!”

Jess went to the crib and gathered up Joel, then sat and rocked on the bed. At last he quieted; in silence, she cried.

Outside was wind and snow.

19.

19.

Before Tom left, Ellie retrieved her shotgun from the Land Rover and crossed the street to her front door.