ANGELS AND GHOSTS

Chicago, Fall 1985.

Jenny Rose sat quietly on the bus, wondering whether she’d done the right thing.

The last fight with her mother had been a big one, both of them angry, both screaming insults at the other, threats and abuse flying from both sides.

Jenny hated her mother’s new boyfriend, and while she appreciated that her mother was entitled to have a life, and she was also free to form a relationship with whoever she wanted, Jenny couldn’t stand to be under the same roof as him. Eight years younger than her mother, Calvin was a lazy pig, although it seemed like he knew a good thing when he saw it; shack up with someone who had the things that he didn’t have, like a house and a job, and then sit back, drink beer and watch sport all day.

Clearly, her mother was besotted with him, and in a way, that was understandable. Katherine Rose was past her prime, and she knew it; so when Good-Looking-Party-Boy entered her life and made her feel good about herself, she was ripe for the plucking.

Jenny used to ask, ‘Why doesn’t he get a job?’ Then she advised her mother, ‘He’s just using you!’ Then she started demanding, ‘Get rid of him; he’s no good for you, he’s just bringing you down to his level.’

Katherine was caught in the crossfire for months; trying to calm the warring parties, but when she started wavering and became protective of her new man, the war with her daughter spiralled out of control.

At sixteen, Jenny knew that she was too young and immature to run away, but her home life had simply become unbearable. The house that she had spent her whole life in, wasn’t hers any more, it was his, and she hated going home, hated seeing the pig glaring at her, hated seeing him cuddle up to her mother, kissing her, whispering, ‘I love you Baby.’

Battle lines had been drawn, two adults standing on one side, one nervous, frightened teenage girl standing on the other side.

Defeated, isolated, Jenny had stolen the money, packed her bags, and now she was sitting on the bus, nervously pondering her future.

Girls ran away all the time she assured herself, and not all of them stuff up, some make it through to the other side. Words like hooker and stripper jumped into her mind, but she dismissed them, because she wasn’t a stereo-typical sixteen-year-old runaway, she was a sixteen-year-old runaway who had a few strings to her bow. Academically she was never destined to go to college, for she didn’t understand complicated subjects, but she was a nice person, and she made friends easily, and if she got a job, she would be good at it, she knew that, because she would try her very best to make it work.

And she was flexible; any job, anywhere … except in Chicago, except in her hometown, because she was running away and she was never going back.

The bus rolled on, the thought popping into Jenny’s mind, Hey girl, hate to state the obvious, but you’re all by yourself now!

Jenny shook her head, dismissing the thought.

By the following day, the bus would be travelling through the rural communities, and she might just hop off and investigate one of them. Rural communities meant country people, and country folk were friendly and helpful. Give you a job? Well you look like a nice lass, so yes indeedee young lady!

Jenny looked at the bus timetable, noting that by the time the next afternoon had rolled around, they would be travelling through Kensington, then Brocksley, then Middleton.

Jenny closed her eyes and tapped her fingers on the map, whispering, “Eeny, meeny, miney, moe …” then she opened her eyes, and as she toyed with her bracelet, she said quietly, “Middleton, yeah sure, why not.”