Charlotte Sometimes – chapter 15 – killing an arab


Charlotte was in her room. She watched the 12” disc of black vinyl spinning on the record player as Robert Smith’s voice sang the chorus of ‘The Funeral party.’ She picked up the postcard again. The front showed a group of punks with spiky mohicans in front of a red telephone box with ‘Welcome to London’ written in red, white, and blue below it.  She flipped it over and read it again even though she had already committed the three sentences to memory. Hey Charlotte, sorry I didn’t write sooner. Been a mental few weeks. Staying with friends will write again when I have an address. Fiona xx She rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes. She could still remember the last time she’d seen Fiona. Standing in the kitchen downstairs with Charlotte’s Mum in the next room. They’d been too scared to even kiss. Fiona had called round to take Charlotte away for the day but was informed that Charlotte was grounded ever since she’d been caught having sex in the living room and wouldn’t be going anywhere. Charlotte had pleaded and begged but to no avail. And now Fiona was off in London getting up to who knows what and was unlikely to even remember the little schoolgirl grounded in her bedroom. Since the altercation that first day back, Charlotte had drifted around the school like Banquo’s ghost. She was invisible to all intents and purposes, except to Emma and Deirdre who would go quiet every time she passed nearby. Charlotte picked up one of the many university prospectuses that littered the floor. Charlotte’s plane was simple. Get out of Strabane and go to college in London. The ADAR handbook listing all the art colleges and courses in the UK was already well-thumbed. Her art teacher had discussed her options a couple of days earlier and Charlotte had felt a swelling of pride when he spoke about her illustrative skills. He’d suggested she went to Belfast first to complete her Foundation course before applying to the UK colleges but Charlotte was keen to get as much distance between her and Strabane as quickly as possible.The doorbell rang. Charlotte didn’t move. She knew it wasn’t for her. It was probably someone selling An Phoblacht or some door-to-door salesman. She was surprised when she heard her Mum calling for her and got up and stuck bahis şirketleri her head out the bedroom door.“Wha?”“Emma’s here to see you.”Charlotte froze. What could Emma want? She came down the stairs warily. It was almost three months since the party and, despite seeing her nearly every day, this was the first time they’d spoken.“Can we talk?”Charlotte looked at her Mum, who was hovering by the living room door.“Is it ok if me and Emma go up to my room?”Once her Mum had nodded, Charlotte turned and headed up the stairs without a word. She heard Emma following behind. In her room, she sat on the chair at her desk and gestured for Emma to sit on her bed. She didn’t bother turning off the music as it was halfway through the last song on the album anyway.She looked at Emma who seemed to be focussing on the shoelace of her left boot. She watched and waited. Emma had come here and Charlotte wanted her to explain what she was here for. Finally, Emma raised her head. Her eyes were wet and tears were trickling down her cheeks.“I’m sorry.”Emma’s voice could hardly be heard. The cracked whisper made Charlotte smirk.“I’m sorry. I couldn’t quite hear that.”Fresh tears spilled down Emma’s face. The dark eyeliner was getting smudged already.“Why?” Charlotte asked.Emma looked confused. “What?”“Why are you sorry? What’s changed?” Charlotte demanded. “What’s happened?”“I’m pregnant.”Whatever semblance of control Emma had left tumbled at this point. Her shoulders heaved as she sobbed quietly.“For fuck’s sake,” Charlotte muttered as she snatched up several tissues from the box by her bed. “It’s not that big a deal. You can get an abortion if you don’t want to keep it. You’re eighteen now so there’s no problem with your Mum needing to know.”Emma shook her head. “You don’t understand.”“Well, if you want to keep it, that’s a whole other game. I’m not sure why you are telling me though. I’m hardly the father.”She made a stupid smile to show she was trying to be funny, but Emma just stared at the floor.“Do you know who the father is?”“Yes, I fucking do,” Emma retorted. “I’m not a fucking whore.”She stopped and took a deep breath.“I’m sorry. It was the night of the party.”Charlotte nodded as she remembered Emma telling her about the guy in the bathroom.“Aww bahis firmaları for fuck’s sake, Emma. Do you not use condoms?”Emma just blushed and fumbled with the buttons on her black woolly cardigan.“Well anyway,” Charlotte tried to be reassuring. “You’ll just need to make an appointment at the clinic and it’ll be all taken care of.”She put her hand on Emma’s knee.“I know loads of people who’ve had one and it’s over in a couple of hours.”Emma took a breath.“I can’t… you can’t… no one can get an abortion in Northern Ireland. It’s against the law.”She burst into tears again.“Fuck.. but… how?” Charlotte was so confused. If Northern Ireland was part of the UK, why could you get an abortion in Edinburgh or Liverpool or Leeds but not Belfast or Strabane?She slid off her chair and sat beside Emma on the bed.“Emma,” Charlotte whispered. “Why are you telling me?”Emma raised her tear-stained face and looked pleadingly at Charlotte. “I can’t tell anyone else. My Mum would kill me. Fiona’s gone to London and now Deirdre’s decided she wants to be a nun, she’d probably tell my Mum to stop me even looking about an abortion”“So I’m the last resort?”Emma nodded and sobbed again, her face in her hands. Charlotte took a deep breath, raised her eyes to heaven then hugged Emma.“It’s ok. We’ll sort something out.”Charlotte gently stroked Emma’s hair while the girl just whimpered “I’m sorry” like a mantra, over and over again.Finally, the tears stopped and Charlotte found out just how fucked up Northern Ireland could get. Deirdre, Emma explained, had been swayed by the presentations and arguments put forward by SPUC, the Society for the Protection of the Unborn Child. They had been in the school last year to warn of the dangers of abortion. Emma explained that the little badge of the two feet that Deirdre wore on her pinafore showed the size a baby’s feet were at the time of an abortion. When Emma told her about the 30cm rulers they gave out with measurements detailing the size of the baby in weeks, Charlotte got really cross. “But that’s just sick. How could the school let it happen.”“Let it happen? The school invited them in. One girl got suspended for asking when the pro-abortion people would be coming in to talk to us.”“Jesus Christ, what a fucking kaçak bahis siteleri country. What about a woman’s right to choose?”“She can still choose. If she has the money, she can choose to get the boat to England and get an abortion there.”“OK. We’ll do that then.” Charlotte smiled.Emma shook her head. “I’ve no idea how you go about that. I don’t know who to ask. And even if I did. How am I going to pay to get to England, let alone pay for the abortion?”She slumped, defeated onto Charlotte’s bed.“We’ll work something out. I promise.”Emma nodded and for the first time that evening, Charlotte saw her smile.After Emma had left, Charlotte lay on her bed and tried to work out what was going on. One half of Charlotte questioned why she would help Emma at all, given what a bitch she’d been but the other half just wanted her friend back. Finally, the forgiving, helping side won out and Charlotte crawled into bed.  “You’re such a needy little bitch, aren’t you, Charlotte?”She opened her mouth to ask how Fiona had got into her room when she realised she was tied to the bed. Fiona straddled her. She moved her gaze from Fiona’s face to her breasts and back again, and again. Fiona had such suckable nipples. Hard and pointed with dark pink with dimples around the areoles. Charlotte nodded. “You’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?”Charlotte nodded again. “Say it,” Fiona ordered. There was a steeliness to her voice. “I’m a needy little bitch.”“And?”“And I’m your dirty little slut.”“Not just mine though, are you?”“No, she’s been fucking everyone he comes across. Anything with a pulse, the fucking slag. She even fucked the drummer and broke up the band.”Charlotte turned her head to the side. Emma was standing there, wearing a little black dress and caressing an enormous bump in her belly. “At least she used a condom, unlike some people.”Charlotte’s mother sneered, looking down her nose at Emma’s bump.“Mum?” Charlotte whimpered. What are you doing here?Charlotte tried to move but Fiona had tied her wrists to the bed. She bucked her hips up, trying to push Fiona off. “What’s wrong, Charlotte, scared your mother will discover her darling little girl is a muff licking lesbian?” Emma giggled, looking at her Mum.Fiona pressed her dripping wet pussy into Charlotte’s face. “She eats pussy ever so well,” Fiona gasped. “Do you remember how embarrassed she was watching ‘oranges are not the only fruit’ with you? You didn’t know she was a lesbian then but look at her now. No shame.”

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