Page 48 of Cuts Like An Angel: Part 3

Rosie kept her back to the witch behind her, but she swallowed, hard, pushing down some of the coffee that was threatening to come back up. She didn’t want to turn around and give Maria the satisfaction she was after with her words. “That’s sad,” Rosie said. “Would you like some toast? Crumpets? William bought them just for you.”

Maria sat where Rosie had been a moment ago. “You can pretend all you like if it makes you feel better.”

The sound of the lighter clicking made Rosie’s nerves jar, and then a second later, the smell of cigarette smoke filtered over to her. Maria might have been older now, but Rosie could see the way she held herself, there was a dark streak in that woman, a dark, evil streak that took pleasure in hurting people. It had probably always been there. Rosie said nothing when Maria positioned her cigarette over Rosie’s coffee and flicked the ash into the mug.

“William doesn’t like it when you smoke in the house.”

“It’s my house,” she said. “He can dislike whatever he wants. But I do what I want.”

“Not anymore,” Rosie said. She went to the fridge to get the butter and to hide herself from the tormenting monster in the room. It was easier to lose herself amongst the butter and yoghurts and the array of other things William had stuffed into the fridge to keep them going. “Why don’t you settle yourself in your room, and I’ll bring your breakfast. I’m sure William will be back any moment. I can send him in when he comes home.”

The old woman pursed her lips as she stared at Rosie, then she brought the cigarette to her puckered lips. Yellow stains marred her fingers around the edges, and she had that horrible shade to her skin, the one that old people get when they’ve smoked for years. She took a long drag on her cigarette and blew out the smoke. “Tell him to bring me a proper cuppa too. I’ll need it after whatever you bring me. That’s if I’m still alive and haven’t choked on my own vomit.” She flipped open the album and got it to the page where Sam and William beamed out. “I do miss her. She’d have seen me right. She’d have been here, helping me, not teasing William with all the things you do. Opening your legs and giving him access to your pussy. She was a proper woman. Knew how to carry herself and how to speak.”

The box of teabags buckled under the weight of Rosie’s grasp as she watched Maria put out her cigarette in Rosie’s coffee, and Rosie could only stand there and stare at the back of the woman’s nylon dressing gown as she shuffled back out of the kitchen and towards her room.

Rosie kicked herself for the amount of times she’d told her niece, hate was a terrible word and to never use it. But now she understood it and where it was appropriate. She could understand it in the way someone could understand love.

Minutes later, when she took in the tea and toast, Rosie said nothing to Maria. And even though her mind screamed at her, she’d added a pot of jam to the tray. Ever the people-pleaser, even when it wasn’t deserved, like this. She set herself up to be berated again. “Breakfast is here,” she said, keeping it simple. She left the room and closed the door behind her.

By the time she was in the hallway, she could hardly breath. Her chest hurt so much from holding it all in and her head was about ready to take her up to bed. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket. No calls, no texts, no replies. And when she checked the messages, she had sent to him, he hadn’t read them either.

With dread, she walked back into the kitchen. The faint flickering of blonde hair caught her eye. William … William was sitting outside on their swing.

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