LITMIR.BIZ

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with it, Maggie exposed her brother – who was still wearing his t-shirt from two days ago – to the chill of the summer’s morning.

      Nicky sat up quickly with a look of terror on his face, thinking his father had come into the room. Seeing his fear, Maggie’s heart sank. The anger which she was ready to fire out machine gun style fell away.

      ‘Fucking hell Mags, I thought …’

      Nicky didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t have to.

      ‘I know, Nick. Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a fright.’

      Maggie gave a sad smile, taking in her brother’s gaunt appearance. His nails were ingrained with dirt, as was the skin around his eyes and mouth, making him look like he’d been working down the mines rather than living in the heart of Soho. His blue eyes, once sparkling, looked dull and lifeless. His skin had a faint circular rash on it, another sign of Nicky’s chronic drug addiction.

      Nicky started to cough and reached over to grab the small ashtray which was already overflowing with roach ends. He spat the contents of what was in his mouth in it. Maggie flinched, turning her head quickly, not wanting to feel nauseous.

      ‘Nicky, what’s been going on? I know you’ve been avoiding me since I’ve come out. Are you in trouble?’

      ‘I’ve just been busy, Maggie.’

      ‘Don’t lie to me Nicky, not you.’

      Maggie stopped and looked at her brother, not wanting to admit how much him letting her down had hurt her.

      ‘Things started to get out of hand, Mags.’

      ‘What things, Nick? What could be as important as looking after your niece?’

      ‘We did look after her.’

      Maggie shook her head sadly.

      ‘No Nick, no you didn’t. She looked a mess.’

      Nicky shrugged his shoulders as he lit up a cigarette.

      ‘Kids are expensive. Johnny didn’t give us much money to look after her so we had to do our best.’

      ‘Was that your best, Nicky? You know I can easily ask Johnny how much he gave to you.’

      Nicky’s guilt made him snap at Maggie, causing his sister to stand up from the bed in reaction to his verbal attack.

      ‘Okay, I know and I’m sorry. Fucking hell Maggie, she ain’t my kid. I did what you wanted, I got her looked after and maybe she ain’t in a bleedin’ palace but she’s certainly not in care is she? We all did what you wanted and if you want to find fault in it that’s fine Maggie, but tell me, who else would take her with no questions asked and keep their mouths shut? Yeah, it wasn’t ideal but none of it is, not the secrets, not Gina’s, not our life; so what else did you expect from me?

      Maggie didn’t move and just stood staring at Nicky for a moment, before turning to walk out of the room. Pausing at the door without looking at her brother she spoke in a whisper, trying to keep her voice steady.

      ‘I expected you to care.’

      Maggie went back into her bedroom and sat on her bed feeling deflated from the conversation she’d had with Nicky. She’d been so angry with him but instead of ripping his head off as she’d planned, he’d ripped her heart out.

      She threw herself backwards onto the bed and listened to her father ranting at her mother downstairs. Part of her wanted to go and sort it out, the other part of her wanted to bury her head under her pillow.

      She felt exhausted by the last few days and more than anything she felt an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. She wanted Harley with her and the ache of not having her made her catch her breath sometimes.

      Everyone saw her as a strong woman; invincible even. Maggie, the one who stood up to her father; Maggie, the one who never cried as the fist was brought down on her mouth; Maggie, the one who’ll take the fall and the one who would pick up the pieces, both literally and metaphorically. But they never thought of her as Maggie, the one who sometimes needed someone.

      She sat up and wiped away the tears which had run into her ears. She was feeling sorry for herself. Tears never did anything apart from wet pillows and block noses.

      Looking at her phone she saw there was a text from Johnny asking her to call him. There was nothing more to say. She’d made up her mind what she was going to do about Harley. There was simply no other choice and now all she wanted was for Johnny to leave her alone.

      They’d been crazy to get married. Crazy to think things could’ve ever had a happy ever after. Happy endings weren’t part of the Donaldsons’ make-up.

      ‘Marry me, Maggie?’

      ‘Sorry?’

      ‘Marry me, Maggie.’

      ‘I … I … we can’t.’

      ‘Do you love me?’

      ‘Yes, but …’

      ‘Then say you’ll marry me and we’ll worry about everything else tomorrow.’

      She stared at him and then a smile spread across her face. It was mirrored by Johnny’s, who held his grin as his eyes flicked over Maggie’s face to pre-empt her answer.

      ‘So what do you say then?’

      ‘I say you’re off your head, Johnny Taylor. Certifiable.’

      ‘Perhaps I am but that don’t stop me wanting you to be my wife.’

      ‘No Johnny, it’s a bad idea.’

      ‘When did a bad idea ever stop you doing what you wanted?’

      ‘If someone finds out …’

      Johnny stopped grinning and looked serious. He lowered his voice as he put his hand gently under her chin, lifting Maggie’s head up towards his.

      ‘I won’t ever let anyone hurt you, Maggie. You got to trust me on that. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the long term babe, but I swear to you I’ll put my life on the line rather than let anyone hurt you again.’

      ‘I don’t know.’

      ‘What don’t you know?’

      ‘It’s just …’

      ‘Just what?’

      Maggie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Okay.’

      Johnny turned his ear to her mouth, smiling broadly.

      ‘Say that again.’

      Maggie laughed and spoke loudly, drawing stares.

      ‘I said okay. You’re crazy Johnny Taylor but yes; yes I’ll marry you.’

      As Maggie pulled on her coat, she wondered if the danger had added to the attraction. Had they really been in love? Soulmates forever but destined to be apart. Maybe it was simpler than that. Maybe it was just that Johnny had always been kind to her, respectful. Two elements which were hugely missing in her life. Or perhaps, she’d imagined Johnny would save her from her life – when no one else could.

      Walking down the stairs she glanced into the kitchen and saw her mother sitting at the table, surrounded by broken pots and a swollen lip. Maggie paused, about to go in and check on her mother, then realised she couldn’t do it.

      Today Maggie couldn’t face wiping the blood off her mum’s chin, nor could she face pressing cotton wool on her mother’s lip to stop the swelling, hoping it wouldn’t sting. Hardest of all, she couldn’t face trying to prevent her mother’s salty tears pouring into the wound which would never heal.

      Closing her eyes for a split second, Maggie braced herself then walked out of the house into the fresh air, knowing there’d always be a tomorrow and a tomorrow and a tomorrow when she’d have the chance to nurse her broken mother.

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