I could see Donnie’s hairless chest plus one nipple. Then he took both my hands and tried to pull me down onto the sofa. I dug my heels into the carpet.
He smiled a little pleadingly. I shook my head. He sank back onto the sofa and Nic was suddenly in front of me, leaning over him. They’d started kissing and I watched his hand move up her skirt. The music carried on and I stood there, not really believing what was happening.
‘Fuck!’ said Michael.
(Yes, I was telling Michael all of this.)
‘Fuck – that’s mental!’
He stared at the ground and called it ‘Jesus’. He was obviously impressed by my Compulsive Tale-Telling.
We were walking up through the Village and had nearly reached his house but he had to stop and swear a lot.
‘Nic and Donnie? That is fucked-up. But I shouldn’t be surprised.’
‘Well, I was,’ I replied.
Michael made a regrettably pig-like snorting noise and shook his head.
‘Donnie-Donnie-Donnie. You naughty boy!’
I think Michael must’ve misunderstood to find it all so funny.
I hate being laughed at. I really do. Nic laughed in just that same way, like she knew some joke I didn’t.
She called me a ‘Frigid-Little-Freak’. She spat the words out so they stuck on my face and then she grabbed my arm and dug in her nails.
‘Donnie’s not interested in you, so why don’t you just get out.’
I pulled her away from the sofa and we had a little tussle, and she slammed into some china dogs on a sideboard. Donnie went hysterical.
‘No! Not the Wally Dogs!’
He stared at me with blazing eyes and I felt so confused I went running out of there. I ran and I ran (and I ran) but once I was back home I knew I couldn’t run any more. There was nowhere left to run to. I couldn’t go forward and I couldn’t go back. Nic had ruined everything for me, and she’d ruined me. I felt so dirty. I stared at my hands and wondered if they were capable of killing. Then I imagined how. I punched my bedroom door and kicked the skirting board. I wished I’d killed her already. It was the beginning of the end. Yes, Sir-eee. It was WAR.
19th December 1965
Tape: 3 (B side) ‘The testimony of C.A. Rozier’
[Transcribed by E.P. Rozier]
War is not a means but an end. It makes violence respectable and makes sadists look like heroes. Them Nazis had sadists aplenty, Emile. I’ve still got the scars from that first beating they gave me, and that was just the start. I was locked in a little room, all alone, and that made me proper anxious. Then I was led down this corridor and taken into what looked like an office with a wide, wooden desk. There were three bad-looking blokes sitting behind it. I’d not seen them before – the ring-leader was named Wessel, but known to many as the Weasel.55
He tapped his finger on the desk.
‘So,’ he said, ‘should we shoot you now or let you rot in prison?’
I felt sick in my throat.
The Weasel laughed like a typical German, thinking he knew better than me. He got up from his desk and came round to stand in front of me. I took the biggest gulp of air as he stared downwards. He had big, popping eyes so I knew he was a crazy one. Quick as you like, he slapped me. I thought he’d used a bit of leather and not a human hand at all.
‘We know all about your father’s secret activities, he has given us a full confession. He was easy.’
‘What do you take me for?’ I replied. ‘If he was that easy why are you questioning me?’
Vère dja, Emile, the Weasel was a proper Nazi – all pent-up to be away from active fighting on the Front, spoiling for a good scrap right here with little me. He went on and on.
‘We have our sources. Very serious allegations have been made,’ he said.
‘Rubbish!’ I replied.
‘Your own people have turned on you, my boy.’
Dju me pardaon! That sent a chill like a dagger through my heart. I wondered if he meant Ray or J-P.
‘I know nothing and I’m saying nothing.’
The blood was pumping fast.
The Weasel hovered horribly close to my ear.
‘A pig about to have its throat cut squeals, Charlie. Will you not squeal?’
Those were his very words, I swear. Then he grabbed me round the neck and pushed my face into the desk. For a second I couldn’t breathe. You tell me that