Senseless Read online

  About the Author

  Anna’s adult life has been moulded a great deal by challenges to her physical health and the need to adapt to them. She was diagnosed with N eurofibromatosis type 2 (NF2) in the 19 9 0s and went deaf soon after, whil e at u niversity . She then began to learn British Sign Language to help with communication and loved it immediately, becoming fluent enough to teach it.

  In the last seven years, Anna’s vision has deteriorated and she is now registered deaf – blind. That and other health complications led her to stop working. Although sad to leave a job she loved, she is now relishing having more time to write and much of her writing is greatly influenced by her desire to share the realities of living with disability.

  Anna wrote and self-published a semi-autobiographical novel called Catch It Anytime You Can in 2012 and also loves writing poetry, short stories and articles. Senseless is her first full-length work of fiction.

  Apart from writing, Anna loves horse riding and competes at dressage with the RDA (Riding for the Disabled Association). She will be donating 10% of her royalties from Senseless to St Ives (Bingley) RDA where she has weekly lessons.

  Senseless

  Anna Lickley

  This edition first published in 2018

  Unbound

  6th Floor Mutual House, 70 Conduit Street, London W1S 2GF

  www.unbound.com

  All rights reserved

  © Anna Lickley, 2018

  The right of Anna Lickley to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  ISBN (eBook): 978-1-912618-05-7

  ISBN (Paperback): 978-1-912618-04-0

  Design by Mecob

  Printed in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, St Ives Plc

  Senseless is dedicated to the memory of Ken Lickley

  Der beste Vater der Welt

  1946 – 1999

  Dear Reader,

  The book you are holding came about in a rather different way to most others. It was funded directly by readers through a new website: Unbound.

  Unbound is the creation of three writers. We started the company because we believed there had to be a better deal for both writers and readers. On the Unbound website, authors share the ideas for the books they want to write directly with readers. If enough of you support the book by pledging for it in advance, we produce a beautifully bound special subscribers’ edition and distribute a regular edition and e-book wherever books are sold, in shops and online.

  This new way of publishing is actually a very old idea (Samuel Johnson funded his dictionary this way). We’re just using the internet to build each writer a network of patrons. Here, at the back of this book, you’ll find the names of all the people who made it happen.

  Publishing in this way means readers are no longer just passive consumers of the books they buy, and authors are free to write the books they really want. They get a much fairer return too – half the profits their books generate, rather than a tiny percentage of the cover price.

  If you’re not yet a subscriber, we hope that you’ll want to join our publishing revolution and have your name listed in one of our books in the future. To get you started, here is a £5 discount on your first pledge. Just visit unbound.com, make your pledge and type BETH18 in the promo code box when you check out.

  Thank you for your support,

  Dan, Justin and John

  Founders, Unbound

  Super Patrons

  Sue Ainley

  Shirley & Nick

  Jane Armstrong

  Kate Bairstow

  The Baldwin Family

  Trudy Bean

  Sarah Bellwood

  Penelope Beschizza

  Mary Bolton

  Teresa Brasier

  Leigh-Anne Brown

  Rachel Butterfield

  Alison Capey

  Mandy Clift

  Sarah Clilverd

  Joanna Coleman

  Geraldine Collie

  Norman Cook

  Peter Crawshaw

  Valerie Cushing

  Clive & Anne Davis

  Pat de Reyes

  Lynn Delfosse

  Cherry Dexter

  Sue Duke

  Ivan & Jackie Dunn

  Julia Elliot

  Carol Fellingham Webb

  Tom & Liz Franks

  Judy Green

  Vivien Halliwell

  Mary Halsey

  Susan Hargadon

  Sheila Harris

  Shaunett Harris

  Samantha Havis

  Jill Henshaw

  Stephen Hey

  Jade & Kirsty Higgs

  Michelle Higgs

  Jilly Holland

  Louise Holland

  Julie Holmes

  Kate Houghton

  John Howard

  Ron Howard – in memory of Julie Howard

  Karen Humphreys

  Huw Huw

  Lizzy Jackson

  Mo Jackson

  Sarah Jackson

  Jackie Jackson-Smith

  Liz Jobey

  Bonnie Kelly

  Dan Kieran

  Sally Kingsley

  Jean Leake

  Tracey Leake

  Susan Lee

  Jill Lickley

  Margaret Longden

  Liz Macartney

  Rodney Marsh

  Jean Mcbean

  Suzanne Meinert

  Jill Merritt

  Val Middleton

  John Mitchinson

  Heather Mole

  Janet Montefiore

  Andrew & Janet Munro

  Carlo Navato

  Hilary Nelmes

  Pam Noble

  Lucy Oldroyd

  Steph Osborn

  Katie Peat

  Justin Pollard

  John Popham

  Andrew Pye

  Anna Pye

  Julie Ralph

  Jen Rhodes

  Bruce Rhodes

  Hazel Rolston

  Paul Scales

  Brian Scott

  Laura Sheard

  Rosemary Silverson

  Sylvia Simmonds

  Tanya Simpson

  Anna Smith

  Paula Squire

  Claire Stent

  Sue Stevens

  David Storer

  Lynne Swarbrick Hughes

  Mary Tibbett

  Barbara Todd

  Jonathan Tomkinson

  Hilary Trickey

  Ann Vear

  Percy Vear

  Henry Waddington

  John Walker

  Joanne Ward

  Lisa Ward

  Debbie Watkins

  Lesley Weatherson-Emm

  Josephine Wesley

  Stephen Whitehead

  Andrew Wight

  Helen Williams

  Hazel Williams

  Amy Wilson

  Ray Wilson

  Jube Wiseman

  Kate Wood

  Anya Woodbridge

  Marjorie Woodhams

  Sara Yarnell

  Contents

  About the Author

  [Dedication]

  [Dear Reader Letter]

  Super Patrons

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

&
nbsp; Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Acknowledgements

  Patrons

  Chapter 1

  ‘The Better Solutions honchos are a nasty, money-grabbing bunch of wankers , Beth , ’ Rick was saying as they pulled up outside her house . ‘For God’s sake, you are 3 2 years young. What the hell are you doing in this pissy job?’

  Beth was too tired to answer after they had driven a 400-mile round trip in heavy traffic to attend the Better Solutions UK AGM. She shook her head and shrugged instead.

  ‘All we do is drive across half the country to care homes trying to persuade underpaid staff to buy Better Solutions bath hoists and Better bloody Solutions state – of – the – art wheelchair ramps.’

  Rick paused for breath but Beth knew he wasn’t stopping. She wondered sleepily how many times he’d said this to her in the course of the journey.

  ‘These people only come to our demonstrations to get the free mugs, pens, mouse mats, cakes and whatever the fuck else we have to sweeten them up with. We’re the ones feeling like bloody idiots slugging this stuff around and breaking our sodding backs in the process.’

  ‘I know, Rick, maybe one day I really will get round to moving on but…’

  ‘But what , Beth? “ But ” is what I’ve been saying all my life. We both have dreams of doing something else. What’s stopping you? ’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged , rubbing her hand over her eyes, ‘I’m too tired , Rick, I’ll have to go in.’

  ‘Alright , Beth love, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Beth pulled herself out of his overheated car and it was so cold that by the time she’d walked the 15 steps to her front door, the metal door handle felt wet to her frozen fingers.

  ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ she chanted as she fumbled with her key, seeing a frozen cloud coming from her mouth. The only light was a faint glow from the distant street lamp but even that was obscured by an overgrown bush. There were no lights on in the house, so Dan was already in bed. He would usually leave the porch light on if Beth still hadn’t come home from a long working day. He’d sometimes leave a note on the door for her too: Come to bed immediately! orWelcome home,sexy!

  Tonight there were neither of those things. She was worried about Dan, he’d been in a strange, uncommunicative mood for the last few weeks. His sullen moods were very unlike him. After asking a couple of times if he was okay and getting the brush off, she had decided to ignore it and wait for the real Dan to come back. It was probably just work stress ; he had mentioned budget cuts.

  All Beth wanted now was to get this bloody rigid bra off and curl up in bed next to a calm, sleeping Dan hoping he’d wake up in a better mood tomorrow.

  When she got in, the dark house was freezing. Had Dan not had the heating on at all tonight? She went to the lounge and bent to turn on the glass-fronted faux-flame gas fire, holding out her hands to the flames. That’s when she noticed the envelope on the mantelpiece with BETH written in large black letters on the front. Had Dan left a welcome note after all? He’d never used an envelope before. She lifted it down drowsily, tempted to just put it in her pocket to read in the morning. But s omething about the formality of the sealed envelope made her open it. When she pulled out the folded piece of A4 paper there was just one short line in Dan’s best cursive. Bile rose in her throat as she read the words:

  I have loved you so much Beth, I’m so sorry. D xx

  All thoughts of sleep suddenly vanished. ‘Oh my God, Dan,’ she screamed out, ‘Dan! Dan!’

  She ran to the kitchen and switched on the light ; there was nothing there but a discarded half-drunk mug of cold tea.

  ‘DAN?!’

  She bolted to the stairs, running up them two at a time , and threw open the door to the box room they used as an office. It was empty. With a pounding in her chest, she wheeled round and checked the bathroom. It was also empty, towels slung carelessly on the floor where she had left them this morning in her haste to dress. God! Finally she threw open the door to their bedroom. The bed was unmade but the room was empty. Thank God! All she felt was relief. No Dan hanging by his neck or convulsed on the bed or slumped in a cold bath of bloodied water. But then the relief became despair. If the house was empty, Dan was gone.

  Chapter 2

  Nine Years Later, Friday Morning

  Luckily there was one space left as Beth pulled into the small car park. As she parked, she looked up at the tatty college. A lone boy kicked a ball against the wall and the thudding monotony echoed the pounding in her head. She struggled from the car and headed to Student Services with minutes to spare . ‘Alright , Beth?’ Diane , the head of department , greeted her, ‘Tom just emailed, he won’t be in today so can you go and work with Becky in her beauty class? Gemma usually does that, but she’s off today.’

  ‘ Right , ’ Beth managed, trying to process Diane’s quick-fire instructions as she watched her bustling off down the corridor. This was what it was always like, ‘do this, go there, don’t have an opinion on anything, just follow instructions and nod’ . She was weary all the time. Working as a Communication Support Worker was supposed to be her dream, a chance for her to do something she enjoyed. She was beginning to wonder if there was anything that she would truly enjoy doing. Was she just destined to be dissatisfied forever?

  She couldn’t say she was sad not to be sitting with Tom . H e was one of those skulking kids who sat slumped in his seat, arms folded in a protective barrage around his chest. He wasn’t interested, didn’t even watch the signing half the time. On top of that, she had a problem with his name. It was a common enough name but every time she heard it, she felt her stomach lurch with a longing for the only Tom who existed for her, the brother she had adored so much. Her mind was filled with the halcyon days of their childhood , when life was so smooth and unsullied by … She couldn’t let her thoughts run away with her. Say stop when your thoughts start drifting back to what happened , she heard her therapist telling her.

  The beauty school was on the ground floor of the college. They had a full corridor , with a hairdressing salon, a treatment room for practical sessions and four classrooms for teaching. Becky was in the treatment room this morning and the students who’d arrived were sitting paired up a round the beds lining each side of the long room , making it look like a hospital ward. The bed covers were a washed-to-grey , greenish colour and Beth always felt slightly sick in here. Becky was sitting by the bed at the end of the row, fixing her hair in a low ponytail and looking around waiting for her CSW.

  Morning, Beth signed, Gemma’s ill so it’s me today.

  Cool . She smiled distractedly.

  What’s the plan today, do you know? I haven’t seen the lesson plan.

  I think we’re doing waxing. We had a bit of a practice last week on our own legs but only quickly at the end. Today might be bikini lines.

  Becky got her phone from her bag and started texting someone. Beth looked around to see that the class was pretty much all there and in pairs for working, chatting away to each other. Becky was still without a partner, immersed in her own world.

  The teacher, Gail, walked in – a warm, plumpish woman in her fifties. T he students glanced up a
t her and quieted down . Becky was still looking down at her phone , so Beth waved again to let her know that Gail had arrived .

  ‘Are you all paired up?’ Gail was asking, by the time Beth looked her way.

  There were murmurs of ‘yeah’ from round the room. When Beth signed the question to Becky, her hand shot up.

  ‘Becky doesn’t have a partner,’ Beth voiced.

  ‘Oh , that’s alright,’ Gail replied, ‘Gemma usually pairs up with Becky if she’s on her own.’

  Beth seethed internally. Bloody ‘ do-gooder ’ Gemma would, of course ; but it wasn’t right or fair to ask , surely?

  ‘O-kay, ’ s he forced out . Now wasn’t the time to protest. Beth found this one of the hardest things about the job. She was here to aid Becky’s communication, full stop. Her job description was pretty clear on that, but time and again she’d be asked to do extra things and was never sure what to do for the best.

  She’d talked to Gemma about it once but her policy was to ‘just do it’, especially in the beauty classes when you’d get a free manicure or facial thrown in. Beth felt this wasn’t helpful : how could you sign for Becky properly with a face pack on your face or fingers sticky with nail polish? She felt she was being taken for granted. At the same time, would it be churlish to refuse ?

  Gail was explaining the process of bikini waxing. ‘You’ll need hard wax, not the sort that requires muslin strips. It’s better if you begin by using warm water and gently trimming stray hairs around the area … ’

  Beth realised that , this time , there was no way in hell that she was going to give in. She would not let a student wax her privates.

  For now, she had to keep signing for Becky. Gail was explaining the different preferences of waxing: a neat triangle, a love heart, a full Brazilian . Becky looked slightly uncomfortable as Gail sent the class to the store room to get waxing kits and towels.

  She seized this moment to grab Gail.

  ‘Sorry , Gail , but I’m not comfortable with this . I don’t mind the odd manicure and I’d be okay with a leg wax but bikini? N o.’

  ‘Becky is on her own then?’

  ‘I’m here as Becky’s CSW. I couldn’t seriously do this support with someone who has waxed my privates.’ The volume level of her voice was rising slightly and she swallowed, not wanting other students to overhear.