better the life of her daughter, whether she wanted it or not. Christine had never felt comfortable in her own home, always had to make sure she was what her mother wanted her to be. Needed her to be. Which was polite, intelligent, hard-working and, above all, respectable. Her mother made the word 'respectable' sound so important it frightened Christine at times. All her friends wore make-up, went out with their mates and had a good time, but not her – she was monitored constantly. It was like living with a huge burden, the burden being that she must never make her mother feel ashamed of having her. But from the way Eileen talked, the way she acted, it was obvious Christine already had.
She felt that she had already let her mother down, so she always felt as though she was having to make amends, even though she had never intentionally done anything to make her mother feel like she did. As her friend Joanie said, it was her mother who had the problem, not her. It was Eileen who read filth into the most innocent of conversations, Eileen who was so convinced her daughter was already gone to the bad, as she so succinctly put it. Was it any wonder Christine lied and cheated to get away from her? All she wanted was to be a normal teenager.
Christine looked at her reflection in the mirror of her dressing table; she knew she was pretty, knew she was sexy even, desirable. Phillip Murphy made her feel like she was the only girl on earth, like a woman. He was the only person to ever make her feel she was worth something, other than her dad, of course, but he didn't count. He was her dad. He had to love her. But, like her, Dad was also under her mother's thumb, he couldn't have an opinion in his own home, it was more than he dared. Her mother would see that as tantamount to mutiny: it was her way or no way How many times had Christine heard that over the course of her young life?
Chapter Three
Eileen Booth was angry. She was always angry. As she pushed her daughter's bedroom door open, she said in her usual demanding way, 'Are you deliberately ignoring me or have you suddenly been struck stone deaf?'
Christine sighed audibly. She wasn't going to take the bait, wouldn't bite back. That was what Eileen wanted, she always wanted a full-on row, a reason to ground her daughter. Well, Christine wasn't going to play into her hands.
'I'm sorry, Mum, I was miles away.' She was smiling at her, trying to look innocent, trying to make her leave her alone.
Eileen Booth narrowed her eyes in suspicion – was this a piss- take? She knew better than anyone that her daughter would need to be at least fifty miles away to block her voice out when she was at full throttle. 'Where are you off to again?'
'Round Joanie's, we're doing our history homework. The Elizabethan era, I told you last night.' She saw her mother looking her over, determined as always to find fault. But there was none. She made sure of that.
Christine had on the minimum of make-up, she wore a plain black dress that ended below the knee and American Tan tights. She also wore her school shoes – black, clumpy school shoes from Clarks. She looked awful in comparison to her contemporaries, and she knew it. She saw her mother battling inside herself to find fault.
'For crying out loud, I'm only going to Joanie's! When have you ever had cause to doubt me, Mum? When have I ever let you down?' She had the hurt and misunderstood look down to a T.
'Well, make sure you're home by nine, and I'm ringing Joanie's mum so don't think you can pull the wool over my eyes, all right?'
'Why would I bother, Mum? Answer me that one, eh?' Picking up her schoolbag off the floor, Christine kissed her mother on the cheek dutifully and walked sedately from the room.
Eileen Booth listened to her daughter's retreating footsteps and sat down on the bed. Why couldn't her daughter see the danger her looks and friendly nature put her in? She was a nice girl, Eileen knew that better than anyone, but it was the nice girls who got caught out. She didn't want her daughter to have a life like hers, making do. Christine was worth so much more than that, but she was too young to see it.
One day, Eileen was convinced her daughter would thank her for her love and the interest she took in her life. Until then she consoled herself with the knowledge that not only was her girl too shrewd to be caught out, but that Eileen herself was far too vigilant to let her daughter get into any position that could ruin her future. Her Christine was going to have every advantage, every chance to make something of herself. Whether the ungrateful little mare wanted it or not.
Chapter Four
Breda Murphy opened the front door wide with a smile that was even wider and eyes that were merry. Christine liked her at once.
'You must be Miss Booth.'
Christine smiled shyly, she had got this far so she was determined to make a good impression. 'And you must be Miss Breda.'
Breda laughed, but it was a derogatory laugh. 'Oh Jesus, he'll eat you for breakfast. Come on in anyway. You're expected.'
Christine followed her, disconcerted by Breda's greeting.
Phillip's street, she hadn't been able to help but notice, was very run down. It was part of a typical council estate and it was alien to her. Her home was a large semi in a nice neighbourhood. It was quiet, and people kept themselves very much to themselves. Here though, there were kids hanging around in the street and curtains were left wide open so anyone could look in and see what was going on. See their lives as they really were without any kind of pretence.
Even Phillip's home, which she knew he was proud of, and was nicer than all the others in the street with its double glazing and obvious extension, would only fit into the ground floor of her own home. She saw the house as her mother would see it, and that annoyed her. These were nice people, friendly people, and they had invited her into their lives without hesitation. She knew her mother would have a full-on coronary if she knew where her daughter was, and she didn't care. For the moment, she didn't give a monkey's.
Christine had to admit, though, that walking up the road had been like walking a gauntlet. She was new, she was suspect, and the people there had made her aware of that. When she had walked in the gate that was the entrance to the Murphy home, she had seen the young lads hesitate, watch her closely. She knew they were wondering what she was there for.
But now she was inside, she was amazed at the warmth, the size and the sheer goodwill that seemed to emanate from everyone and everything around her. This was a home alive with people and sounds. There was noise coming from every room and, as she saw Phillip in the kitchen doorway, his handsome face smiling and his obvious nervousness at her visit, she felt herself relax. She knew then that he was as scared as she was, and that made it suddenly all right.
Breda pushed her gently from behind and, laughing, she walked through to the enormous kitchen that was so obviously the pride and joy of Phillip's mother. Smiling shyly, Christine looked around the table at his whole family but before she could utter a word his mother bustled towards her shouting, 'Jasus, Phillip, she's gorgeous and far too good for the likes of you.'
It broke the ice, and Christine Booth, for the first time in her whole life, felt like she had finally come home.
Chapter Five
'It's only twenty past nine, are you sure you have to get going, child?'
