Unbecoming Read Online Free PDF

for that, Mum would say. Where are their parents, that’s what I want to know? I don’t want you hanging around with girls like that, they’re a bad influence, blah, blah .
    Katie decided all Mum wanted was a distraction, so she told her that school was pretty quiet now exams were in full swing, maths had been empty, the teacher had been sweet and it was definitely useful to look at stuff one-to-one.
    ‘That’s what university will be like,’ Mum said. ‘Just you and a tutor going over mathematical theories together.’
    Katie didn’t think of maths when she thought of university.Instead, she imagined a place where she could reinvent herself, a place where nothing had gone horribly wrong yet.
    She crumpled her ice-cream wrapper, tossed it in the bin and took a breath. ‘So, how did the phone calls go?’
    Mum looked instantly exhausted. ‘I’ve had enough of it, stuck upstairs in this weather. I’ve been passed from department to department and absolutely no one wants to take responsibility.’ She slid a notebook across the table. ‘Look at this. I’ve spoken to every one of those people. Seems you can only be given help once you’re in the system, and to get in the system you need to be assessed, and to be assessed you need a doctor’s referral, and to get one of those you need a doctor and a permanent address.’ She laughed with no humour. ‘I managed to get her an appointment with my own doctor, but not until Tuesday, so what are we supposed to do with her until then?’
    Katie scanned the notes, pages of scrawl with numbers and names and random sentences. Can she manage personal care? Does she have wide-ranging medical and social needs? Mini mental health exam? Adult Care Team referral?
    The anger slid out of her. Poor Mum. Poor Mary.
    She passed the notebook to Chris, but he ignored it, was tracing patterns on his ice cream with his tongue and pretending to be stupid. She passed it back to Mum.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
    Mum smiled wearily. She read and reread the notebook, like picking at a scab.

1954 – the promise
    Mary leans over the side of the bed and clutches at her sister, because surely this can’t, surely no one can be expected … Another one, already another one, like a great wave coming from afar. Mary’s back arches against it as it comes closer, like a belt tightening – pulling every ligament, wrenching muscles into tension, straining each vertebra so that her spine will surely snap. She’s turning inside out with it. She’s going to burst, wet and violent, across the bedroom walls.
    â€˜I can’t do this.’ Her voice is smaller, seems to come from far away. ‘It hurts, Pat. Please make it stop.’
    â€˜There’s nothing to be done,’ Pat says. ‘It’s too late for anything.’
    Mary closes herself to Pat then, because what does she know? Even now, in the heat and terror of it, Pat’s determined to be right. They should call an ambulance, shouldn’t they? Get a midwife to come?
    Out there, beyond the window, Saturday night is happening. Out there, girls are putting on lipstick, spraying perfume at their throats, walking to the Roxy, their heels click-clicking, their breath like smoke in the frosty air. Mary envies them with all her being. She’d trade anything to be out there instead of in here, with this … oh … this awful inevitability. There’s no escape, that’s the worstthing. And it’s going on for ever and … ahh! here comes another one!
    â€˜They’re getting closer, aren’t they?’ she gasps. ‘That was sooner than before.’
    â€˜It’s all right,’ Pat says. ‘It means it’s nearly over.’
    â€˜But this is already more than I can bear.’ She can hear herself moaning, low moaning, pushing into screams.
    â€˜Quiet!’ Pat hisses. ‘You want the neighbours to hear?’
    â€˜The neighbours can go to hell!’
    Mary