Unbecoming by Jenny Downham Read Free Book Online

qualification. We’ll zoom right past your school and cock a snook at the lot of them, eh?’
    The boy looked delighted. ‘How do we do that?’
    Mary showed him by thumbing her nose, wiggling her fingers and sticking her tongue out. ‘Like this. It’s a derisive gesture, as you can see.’
    The boy fell backwards on the carpet and stuck his feet in the air. ‘Can we drive past my school and do it too?’
    ‘One may also cross one’s eyes,’ Mary said. ‘If one really wants to make a point. The trick is never to let them know you’re afraid.’
    The boy laughed even harder, but the girl stood up and looked disdainfully down at him. ‘I’m going upstairs to do a practice paper,’ she said. ‘Don’t let Mum see the sofa and I’ll get stuff to clean it later.’

1948 – how it began
    Clamped under her father’s arm, Mary’s dragged sideways along the garden path. She slaps at his thighs to be let go. She pummels at his hip, his arm, but he takes no notice. Norman comes trotting behind, his eyes wide with fear.
    â€˜What are you going to do to her?’
    â€˜Scram,’ Dad tells him, ‘if you know what’s good for you.’
    Norman backs away as Dad kicks the door. It swings on its hinges. Mary grabs the frame with both hands, but her fingers slide off with the force of her father’s stride.
    Pat, writing her diary at the kitchen table, looks up, dismayed. ‘What’s happened? What did she do?’
    Mary twists and pushes at her father, but his grip only tightens as he hauls her across to the sink. ‘Now wash your face,’ he roars.
    It’s like looking at a stranger. A stranger with eyes the colour of stone. Mary wonders where the laughing father of that morning has gone, for she can’t see any trace of him. This can’t be my father, she thinks. I helped him bank the fire. He told me I was an angel. He had a smile that loved me. Now here is a man whose eyes are cold.
    â€˜Use soap,’ he snaps. ‘And a cloth. Or should I do it for you?’
    Mary picks up the flannel and dabs at her face.
    â€˜Kissing boys,’ shouts this strange father. ‘Wearing lipstick! You’re twelve years old!’
    â€˜Nearly thirteen,’ Mary whispers.
    â€˜I swear if I ever see you near that lad next door again, I’ll knock you into Kingdom Come.’
    â€˜Daddy,’ Pat says, putting a hand on his arm. ‘You’re frightening her.’
    He pushes Pat off, his eyes furious. ‘Did you know what she was up to out there? Bold as brass the two of them.’
    â€˜She didn’t mean it,’ Pat says. ‘She doesn’t understand. It’ll be Norman chasing her . Let me speak to his mother.’
    But Mary can’t let Norman be blamed for what she’d begun. ‘I dared him.’
    Dad glares at her. ‘To kiss you?’
    She nods very slowly. ‘I was up the tree spying and he was fixing his bike and I wanted to know what it felt like.’
    Dad shakes his head as if trying to make the picture disappear. Then he tells her that she’s cheapened herself, that there are names for girls like her, that from now on she’s banned from talking to Norman and banned from climbing trees, and that unless she’s running an errand, she’s to stay indoors. Pat will find her jobs to do, starting with polishing everyone’s shoes.
    Pat quietly offers Dad some tea, but he ignores her and goes back outside, slamming the door behind him.
    Mary leans against the sink as air from outside shifts the air inside, stirring the heat from the oven.
    Pat turns to her. ‘Now look what you’ve done.’
    A small sound escapes from the back of Mary’s throat. It’s odd because it seems not to come from her at all. ‘I didn’t mean to.’
    â€˜You never do.’
    â€˜It was only Norman. Why’s he so furious?’
    â€˜Because you’re his precious girl. He wants to keep you