by Lauren Algeo
Georgie had lost weight dramatically. She’d gone from binge eating to barely eating at all. She’d developed dark circles under her eyes from a lack of sleep and her cheeks were always pale. She would scrub herself vigorously in the shower every day until her skin was raw, which left flaky, red patches on her body. Anything to feel clean again.
Her mum didn’t notice. Lily Duncan was too far along the alcoholic path to realise her daughter was being abused. That it was happening right under her nose, by a man she had brought into their lives.
Georgie’s teachers had been concerned, and she was thankful that it was the school summer holidays now. They thought she was being bullied and that was why she was so withdrawn. They tried to talk to her in the privacy of their offices but got nowhere. She wouldn’t show them any emotion or tell them anything. Her grades were still good so they couldn’t take too much action.
She knew she couldn’t confide in anyone about what was happening at home – Nick was clear about what would happen to her mum if she did. He had described to her at length all the different ways he could hurt them. Sometimes he would sit by her bed and recount his sadistic thoughts while Georgie lay terrified. It was just another of his ways to torture her. Now this might be an even worse one.
Georgie had started her periods when she was twelve years old and they had quickly become regular. She hadn’t had one for two months now – since Nick had started his night-time visits. Initially she’d thought it was stress or lack of food but it was only when she began to feel queasy and started throwing up in the last few weeks that it had occurred to her – was she pregnant? The thought of carrying Nick’s baby made her physically sick.
She’d gone to a chemist that afternoon, one far away from her house where no one knew her. She had come straight home with the pregnancy test and shut herself in the bathroom. It had taken a while to wee on the little stick through her nerves, but she had managed it a couple of minutes ago. Now it was time.
Georgie looked down at the test. She had bought one of the digital ones so there would be no misunderstanding. It was written on the screen in black and white: pregnant.
To her surprise, she wasn’t reduced to a quivering wreck at the result. Instead, she felt a deep rage building inside her, stronger than anything she’d felt before. She yanked open the bathroom door and marched to the stairs, holding the mocking stick out in front of her.
She burst into the living room, making her mum spill her drink on the sofa. She stood directly in front of her and looked her mum straight in the eyes.
‘Your boyfriend is a paedophile.’ The word tasted bitter on her lips. ‘He’s been coming into my room and raping me, and now I’m pregnant.’
Her voice sounded distant, as though it wasn’t her talking.
Her mum stared up at her with wide eyes. She opened her mouth a couple of times but nothing came out. Georgie waited. The silence between them grew longer as the TV prattled on in the background.
‘You’re lying,’ mum said finally, with a vigorous shake of her head.
Her response was like a slap in the face to Georgie. Not outrage at Georgie’s revelation, not concern for her daughter’s well being – an accusation instead.
‘You think I’m lying about being raped?’ Georgie exploded. ‘About that disgusting man putting his hands on me?’
She launched the pregnancy test into the air and it bounced off her mum’s shoulder. Her mum flinched but didn’t glance down at it. Her eyes had a glazed look, as if she was on something stronger than alcohol.
‘Do you even care about me at all?’ Georgie screamed. ‘I’m fourteen! He’s taken everything from me and now I’m pregnant!’
Her mum’s face contorted with anger. She struggled up from the sofa and lunged at Georgie. For a second, Georgie thought she was going to embrace her in a fierce hug; instead her mum grabbed her arm roughly and slapped her hard across the face.
‘You whore,’ Mum hissed. ‘You horrible, little bitch! Stealing my man like this.’
Georgie stood dumbfounded as her mum swayed drunkenly in front of her.
‘You were after him from the start. You tried and tried to lure him into your bed until he couldn’t resist. I bet you’ve been laughing at me behind my back. Now you’ve got what I want – you’ve taken Nick’s baby from me!’
Georgie shoved her mum away and she tumbled backwards onto the sofa. There were tears and snot running down her blotchy face.
Georgie’s vision blurred as her own eyes filled with tears. ‘How can you say those things? I’m your daughter… I would never…’
Her voice cracked with emotion. ‘I never wanted any of this. He said he would kill you if I told anyone. That time he hit you was a warning for me to keep quiet but I can’t any more, not now. I need your help mum.’
Georgie searched her mum’s face desperately for any sign she was listening but she appeared to be gazing straight through her.
‘Mum, please?’ Georgie begged.
Her mum grabbed the open bottle of vodka from the table next to the sofa and took a swig.
‘You disgust me,’ mum snarled with vodka dribbling out of her mouth. ‘I can’t even look at you. I want you out of this house!’
‘But I need your help!’ Georgie wailed as tears streamed down her cheeks. ‘Where would I go? I’m fourteen and I’m pregnant!’
‘I don’t care!’ mum snapped, taking another gulp of neat vodka. ‘I don’t want thieving whores in my house. Get your stuff and get out.’
‘You can’t…’ Georgie started.
‘Get out!’ mum screamed. She hurled the bottle of vodka and it shattered against the fireplace behind Georgie.
Georgie took in one last image of her mother – the black mascara tracks down her cheeks, the smudged lipstick, the wild, drunken eyes. Her mum’s blond hair was sticking out in clumps and she was wearing one of Nick’s t-shirts and tatty jeans. Georgie knew she had chosen his side and she would never accept the truth.
She walked out of the living room, leaving her snivelling mother to find a new bottle of alcohol to sedate her. Although she was sobbing hard, Georgie felt a strange sense of calm inside. She had felt like she was on her own for a long time and now she truly was. She hauled herself up the stairs on wobbly legs and collapsed onto her bed with the door firmly closed behind her. She would have to take care of herself.
Georgie lay there for a while, until she felt in control of her body again, then she took the small suitcase out of her wardrobe and began to pack. Most of her clothes no longer fitted her after the weight loss so it didn’t take long. She packed a couple of books, her iPod and some toiletries. She tucked a small, tatty teddy bear down the side, which her dad had bought for her years ago and she couldn’t bear to leave it behind. Her life was summed up in one case.
She dug out her savings account card and forms from her desk drawer. Her dad had put a couple of thousand pounds in there throughout her life as savings for her future and she could withdraw it herself when she was eighteen, or try to forge her mum’s signature if she wanted it before then.
Lastly, she unpinned the photo of her, dad and mum from the dressing table and put it into her jeans pocket. It would remind her of the happy times.
Georgie dressed warmly, even though it was an August evening, in jeans, a t-shirt and a thick, black cardigan. The British summer was always unpredictable. She put on her converse trainers and added a heavy jumper to the suitcase. She didn’t know where she would be sleeping that night and it could get cold.
She took one final look around her room. She felt no sense of regret at leaving it behind. This was where her virginity had been brutally taken away from her, where she had lost the last of her innocence – the house no longer held any happy memories for her.
Georgie picked up the case and set it down on its wheels, although it was light enough to carry if needed. She went down the stairs and headed straight for the front door. She could hear her mum wailing and moaning in the living room bu
t there was no need for her to go back in there to say goodbye – that woman was not her mother.
She had turned her back when Georgie needed her most and she never wanted to see her again. She would instead choose to believe that her mum had died in that car crash with dad. In a way, that was true – the mother Georgie had known and loved did die on that fateful day. She had never been the same since. It was like her mum had stopped caring the moment they’d lost dad.
At least Nick was out that night so she would never have to see him again. Georgie walked from the house of nightmares with her head held high. She would do something with her life now that she was free. She would make her dad proud of her.
Chapter 7 – 17th August 2007
Georgie stared at the river and watched the boats moving slowly up and down. The sun was shining and there were dozens of people milling around on their lunch breaks – eating sandwiches on the grass and chatting on their phones. Georgie could see Big Ben across the river to her left and the clock face told her that it was 1:20pm. She closed her eyes and tilted her face towards the sun, letting the rays warm her skin.
It was hard to remember how scared she had been last night – her first night alone on the streets. She’d caught the train to central London yesterday afternoon but hadn’t been able to find a homeless shelter, and she didn’t have enough money for a hotel room. She’d decided to save her limited funds for food and spent an uncomfortable night huddled in a shop doorway.
It had been colder than she’d thought for the time of year and there had been too many people wandering past throughout the night. Too many drunk men staggering out of pubs who reminded her of Nick.
She hadn’t known where to go after she’d left home last week. The only thing she’d been certain of was that she had to get rid of Nick’s baby. There was no way she was ready to be a mother – especially not to a baby who was a product of rape by the most disgusting man she’d ever met. It had made her feel incredibly guilty but she knew she had to get an abortion, and she couldn’t do that alone.
Georgie had been forced to swallow her pride and go to her grandparents. They were the only people who could help her get one from the doctors, as they were family. She figured her nan owed her too for abandoning them immediately after her dad’s funeral.
She’d never asked her mum exactly what she’d fallen out with her parents over, that subject got shut down instantly if she ever brought it up, but she thought it must be serious if they hadn’t spoken for so many years. Perhaps they hadn’t approved of her dad, although she couldn’t think why, or maybe something to do with money?
Georgie had stayed with her surprised grandparents for a few nights. They had a bungalow with a spare bedroom and Georgie had announced that she would be sleeping there. She didn’t even remember her granddad from when she was little and he wasn’t a particularly likeable man. He had a hard, angular face and narrow eyes. He barely said two words to her and didn’t seem at all interested in finding out why she had left home.
She’d told her nan that she’d had a blazing row with her mum and had to get away for a few days. She didn’t tell her about the rape, her mum’s alcoholism, or that she wasn’t intending to go back there.
They’d reluctantly let her stay and Georgie had plucked up the courage two days later to get her nan to take her to the doctors. Her nan had remained stony-faced as Georgie revealed that she was pregnant and needed an immediate abortion.
Georgie could see a little of her mum in her nan’s face – an older, weathered version, with none of the empathy and love her mum used to possess. Her nan just seemed to want to get rid of her without getting too involved.
After talking to them both for a while, the doctor agreed to refer them to a clinic as a priority. Georgie had to endure another awkward session with a second doctor at the clinic before they would make her appointments for a medical abortion. After everything she had gone through with Nick, a couple of pills to rid herself of his baby were far less traumatic. He would have nothing over her after that. She hoped her mum hadn’t told him about it either.
She considered telling her nan or the police about him but her mum was so unstable she didn’t know what the woman would do to herself if she lost another partner. She also didn’t want to go through the trauma of police and courts and questions to get Nick sent to prison.
She was still only fourteen so she didn’t want to end up in care after it was over, going from foster home to foster home. She knew her grandparents would never volunteer to have her live with them full time – a few nights seemed like too much of an inconvenience to them. She would take comfort in the fact that she had escaped Nick instead.
Georgie had left her grandparents as soon as she felt better and didn’t need any more appointments. Her nan did slip her £100 before she left, which she was grateful for, but neither of them tried to make her stay or checked that she would be going back home. They hadn’t even called her mum to let her know where she was, or that she was having a serious medical procedure. Of course Georgie hadn’t wanted them to, but surely it was what a normal, caring relative would do? Where had her family gone so wrong?
Their granddaughter seemed to mean nothing to them and Georgie wouldn’t waste any more of her time letting it bother her. She was alone in the world and she was ok with that.
She had a plan as to what she was going to do. She’d already decided that she would pretend to be sixteen – people would be too concerned about a fourteen year old alone in town. She would get herself a job, maybe a cash in hand one to start with, somewhere they wouldn’t check into her background too much. She could clean or cook or wait tables; there might be work stacking shelves or packing up boxes. She was prepared to work hard.
She could stay in hostels and homeless shelters until she saved up enough money to get herself into a cheap flat share. She would make it work.
Perhaps one day in the future she might even be able to go back to school and finish her exams. It was a shame to have quit completely when her grades were so good – she’d been on track to get high GCSE results – but there was no other option. She might even get to go to college in a few years.
Georgie wondered if anyone had even looked for her yet. Her mum had probably only remembered kicking her out a day or two after, when her immense hangover haze wore off. Nick would be missing his night-time activities but would assume she would be coming back at some point – he knew she had nowhere else to go. She doubted her grandparents had phoned her mum to check if she’d got home ok last night.
The school would be the only ones to ask about her when she didn’t return after the summer holidays. Who knew what story her mum would try to fob them off with. She’d have to keep lying until social services came knocking, then there would be plenty of questions and searching for her. By then Georgie would have a new life and they wouldn’t be able to find her to drag her back to that nightmare.
Georgie walked along the river and bought herself a sandwich for lunch. She would have to eat as little as possible until she got a job. There was a homeless shelter near the Strand that she’d stumbled across that morning so she was going to try and sleep there that night. Anything was better than another night with the noisy drunks on the street. She would spend the afternoon searching for work and get to the shelter early to get a space.
Georgie wheeled her suitcase along behind her, looking like any other normal girl on a trip, but there was grim determination on her face. She would start with the shops and restaurants in the tourist areas; everywhere was busy in the summer and there were surely plenty of jobs. She would have something sorted by the time she got to the shelter that night. She was sure of it.
Chapter 8 – 3rd September 2007
A coin clinked into the paper cup in front of Georgie and she glanced up to see a man in a suit powerwalking by.
‘Thanks,’ she mumbled after him.
Her plan had not gone how she’d imagined it. She hadn’t found a job yet, and had been forced
to beg on the streets to make money to eat and get herself into the shelters that weren’t free.
She’d quickly learnt the best places to busk and was making just enough money from the tourist spots to get by. She was aware of how young and thin she looked and people took pity on her. They didn’t think she would spend the money on alcohol or drugs instead of food. She’d had several kind people bring her meals from places like McDonalds, and sandwiches and hot drinks.
Georgie was grateful but the whole situation was humiliating. She’d thought she was leaving her mum and Nick behind for a better life but in some ways this was worse. She was cold at night and never got any solid sleep. She never knew how much money she’d get or where she’d be the next day. She couldn’t stay in one place for long in case the police came along and questioned her.
She’d had to sell her suitcase and iPod, and the few clothes she had left were kept in a plastic carrier bag, which she used as a pillow if she had to sleep outside. There were a few people on the streets she’d seen multiple times and they offered her valuable tips, like which restaurants and shops gave out leftover food at the end of the working day. She’d come to appreciate a stale sandwich or cold pastry.
Georgie had to use public toilets and sneak into bathrooms in restaurants to keep herself as clean as possible. Washing her hair was nearly impossible if she didn’t get into a shelter for a few days. She still had her deodorant with her and made sure that she didn’t smell – no one would give a job to a dirty girl with a body odour problem.
Being homeless was miserable but she hadn’t given up hope of turning things around. She refused to cave and go running back home just because it was hard. She swore to herself that she would never have to see Nick again. Never feel his disgusting hands on her ever again. She wouldn’t go to her grandparents either, that ran the risk of her ending up back at her mum’s if anyone found out she was there. The last few years had made her tough and she wouldn’t give up.