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"Sorry, good to see you as well." Father didn't come home with us that night, which left me disappointed. I got a lift home with Mother, still wondering."Why did you lie about the state of Sally?" "Your father's weak when it comes to emotional subjects, Sally will be fine, why torture your dad for a night?"Mother's optimism was infectious even though her prediction was utterly groundless."How can you be so confident?" "Do you really think they'd only just let us in to see her if she was in a precarious position?" There was some truth in Mother's logic, but it wasn't a certainty. It was good to know she cared for Sally and Father's worried mind, and despite seeing Sally's shattered body, I slept well that night.The next morning, Mother's prediction was proved correct, and after college, I raced to the hospital to see Sally. I approached her bed and seeing her in such a beat-up state made me want to retch. One leg was suspended in plaster, as were her two arms. Her face was black and. And then Larry got up, put his clothes on and wandered back to his room. He didn’t even notice the door being wide open.I rolled a joint and waited for the shit storm. But none came. So I lay back on my bed and waited some more, and wondered, and worried. Maybe that was the punishment.It was just after one a.m. when I woke to the repetitive thud of a headboard and Mum’s unabashed slut song trying to bring the house down. Larry was doing her again, and she was making absolutely sure that everyone in Lancashire knew about it.I couldn’t make out her words, but she was spurring him on with all the fervour of a jockey chasing victory on Derby Day.Thud, thud, thud, thud.It was beautiful to listen to as I drifted in and out of a soft, hazy, stoned slumber. I imagined her reaching back and clutching the headboard as Larry pushed her knees around her ears, just like he had to me, and how he’d be fucking the shit out of her. He was probably telling her how much he preferred screwing her over.
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