Deity

by Matt Wesolowski

  —Was there something else?

  —Two things. A photograph of herself and a little note. The note was all about how unhappy she was at home. That was the deepest cut of all. I knew I wasn’t perfect. I knew we had our problems, but it was so bad for her, she’d had to tell him about it. That broke my heart.

  Tears trickle silently down Marie’s face.

  —I just wish she’d asked my advice. The photograph. I’ve not seen it and I don’t know if I want to. I don’t think it was explicit but … I don’t know…

  The next day, Zach Crystal called the house again.

  —It wasn’t him, not at first. It was his manager or whatever, his PA. James Cryer. He was very nice, very polite. He wanted to speak to me, wanted to check if it was OK, Zach Crystal speaking to Kirsty. He said that Zach is very good at talking with young people, they made him happy and he thought while he was in hospital that he would call as many fans as he could, make them happy back, you know?

  —Were you OK with it?

  —I was … because it just seemed amazing. That someone like him would call us, our wee flat in Perth. I also knew what it would do for Kirsty; how this had brought us together like this. I couldn’t turn round and say no could I?

  So Marie passed the phone to Kirsty. She says that first time, Kirsty and Crystal talked for about half an hour. Afterward, Kirsty was on cloud nine. She was agreeable, she was happy. She sang with Marie – Zach Crystal songs, of course – while they cooked dinner.

  —It was like we were a proper family. And it was all thanks to him.

  The phone calls became daily, then nightly, Kirsty often talking to Zach Crystal for hours at a time. Marie says she didn’t sit and monitor the calls. Kirsty would often take the phone into her bedroom.

  —Did you ever ask what a thirty-year-old global superstar had in common with a twelve-year-old girl in Perth?

  —Not like that, I didn’t, no. Maybe I should have. That’s what a shitty mother I am. I just knew he made her happy. According to Kirsty, they had a lot in common. He’d had a tough time growing up, being a star so young, and I honestly thought he was doing her a favour, that he was helping her, and me as well. I hate to say it, but that month or so, it was beautiful. It was the best month of our lives.

  Zach Crystal was released from hospital and with his South American tour cancelled, travelled back to Crystal Forest to rehabilitate.

  —His aide, James Cryer, would often speak to me. He would tell me how much the calls with Kirsty were helping him, you know? Helping him get better. James used to say he knew it was weird, but the two had hit it off and were becoming friends. I told him how hard Kirsty found it, making friends in real life and, you know what? I thought this might even help; that she had a story no one else had. She was friends with him.

  I watched her thrive, and things only seemed to get better.

  Packages began to arrive. Makeup, flowers, gadgets, and even televisions and games consoles. Suddenly all their bills and rent were being paid. There was fresh food in the fridge and the freezer was full to bursting. Marie and Kirsty had never been closer. But things were about to go downhill, very quickly.

  —She had a camera. A little digital one I didn’t know about. And she was still talking online to people too. I’m sorry to say, I did snoop. I looked at her computer when she was at school. She’d left herself logged in and I just … I was protective. I was curious.

  —Was Kirsty telling the others about her friendship with Zach Crystal?

  —That was the thing. She wasn’t. They were talking about other things. Strange things. A few of them had said they had seen something – a ghost of some sort, but it was an animal. Kirsty was saying she’d seen it too. Apparently, it always meant something bad was going to happen. Well, I was determined that was not going to happen. Looking back I wonder – maybe she’d meant me to see all that.

  A week before Kirsty’s thirteenth birthday, she dropped a bombshell. Marie now realises that this was when things really got out of control.

  —Kirsty came downstairs one morning and asked me if she could go and stay with him for a while. In that place of his in Colliecrith. I was about to tell her no, but she told me I was allowed to come too. She said we would stay in a guest suite. Better than any five-star hotel. I mean, you’ve seen what Crystal Forest looked like. It was paradise. He told her the both of us could go, stay as long as we liked.

  —What were your initial thoughts?

  —Any mother, any parent would have been dubious. At first. But the thing was, he’d done so much for us. The money kept arriving in my bank account. More money that I’d ever seen before … And I felt like I owed it to him. That’s how he had me, that’s how he had her. Money. I put money over my own daughter.

  It’s a chilling sentence, one that has been levelled at Marie Owen since the death of Zach Crystal and the subsequent allegations that came out in the wake of it. It makes sense to me that Marie does not want her name out there. As many of you will know, Marie has been through her own trial by media. Like many who have publicly condemned Crystal.

  ‘I Sold My Daughter to Zach Crystal’ was a recent story in Coffee Break! magazine. ‘Call Yourself a Mother?’ was a headline in the Daily Mail. Delving into the comments sections is to be drenched in a furore of bile and hate toward the parents of those who share similar stories to Marie’s. Then there are the lawsuits. Many people have found themselves being sued for defamation or slander by the Crystal estate. Many of these people signed NDAs when they first met Crystal, but neglected to read the small print.

  I ask Marie if she and Kirsty had to sign anything before their visit.

  —Oh all sorts. We did it all on the train – on that same route through the Cairngorms. But this time it was in first class, with a load of his people in the same carriage. Honestly, I didn’t even read what I was signing. It was too much of a dream. Kirsty told me it was all to do with images – so they were allowed to take photos of us at Crystal Forest for publicity, that sort of thing. She was happy, so I just went along with it. They’d earmarked everywhere I had to sign, and I just thought they were sorting it all out for us. I thought they were being kind … How stupid I was – how foolish. I blame myself, entirely. It was all my fault.

  Marie, a little like Ian Julius, is a much maligned figure. It feels like now, however, with Kirsty gone for so long, that she no longer cares about the consequences of talking to me. She says the Crystal estate can sue her, they can take her house.

  —They took my daughter. Nothing else important is left.

  On arrival at Crystal Forest, Marie was surprised and reassured that there were several other young girls and their families.

  —It was like a holiday resort or something. Honestly, it was beautiful, like something out of a dream. I remember Kirsty was a bit put out. I think she thought she’d be the only one, but it reassured me. I felt better about the whole thing. This must be what he did – he helped families like us, girls like Kirsty.

  Talking to the other families, Marie soon realised that all of them had their problems. Some were foster carers, some were adoptive parents, some had suffered addiction and domestic violence. Crystal Forest quickly became their place of salvation.

  —It was beautiful. Stunning. It’s truly an amazing place. The guest suites in the main house are just as magical. There’s fairy lights on everything; wooden walkways, little iron gates. It’s like being in a kind of make-believe fairy-tale palace. I can only imagine what the tree house was like. But it’s also very – how would you describe it … controlled, is the word, maybe. Everything has rounded edges. There’s little lights showing you where the paths are, there’s clear signs and locked doors. You feel when you’re there that there’s a lot going on behind the scenes, as it were. The staff are very quiet, very discreet. They don’t talk to you. But that’s why it’s so good – everything is so clear. You have this sense of freedom, that everything has been taken care of.

  —Were there any re
al restrictions on you when you stayed there?

  —The only rule was that you couldn’t go into the forest, into those woods, unsupervised. We were told, in no uncertain terms, that if we were caught in the woods without permission, we’d be sent home.

  —Did that not strike you as a little odd?

  —Not really. We were told they were dangerous. Lots of gullies and steep banks. It was untamed ancient woodland; there were no paths, no guides, nothing. Just the forest. I thought it was all about insurance, image, that sort of thing. He couldn’t take any risks.

  Marie and Kirsty were fed well, their rooms were luxurious, with all mod cons, and they had use of Zach Crystal’s spa and sauna whenever they wanted. Marie tells me she got used to being waited on hand and foot. She spent most of her days in the spa, or eating and watching television in her room, while Kirsty spent her time with the other girls.

  And Zach Crystal.

  —I just thought she’d be OK. We saw quite a lot of each other, to be honest. We ate together, and she would tell me all about the fun they were having. He was like a teenage girl, himself. He had them all dressing up, trying on clothes, watching movies. That’s what she told me. She would bring me things to sign – consent forms – and I just … I just did it, I just signed them without really even looking, I’m afraid.

  Marie says this in a monotone. She knows that what she did wasn’t right, but all the while, she said, she saw Kirsty changing.

  —It was like she was turning into someone else … in a good way, I thought. Someone new. She seemed so much more confident, and I just thought that everything was going well for her, that this was a blessing, you know? There, in the middle of nowhere, I didn’t have to think about anything anymore. I didn’t have to think about how I’d failed her. She was getting something exclusive. It was once in a lifetime. She would remember it forever.

  —What was it that Kirsty was getting, aside from a magical experience?

  —Kirsty told me that all of them were getting ‘help’. She was always so vague – you know what kids are like. But when I managed to wheedle it out of her, it seemed that they all sat with him and just sort of … talked.

  —Kind of like group therapy, perhaps?

  —Maybe. They shared their problems. That was all she told me, and at the time, I thought it was a good thing. I thought it would help her, having others there who’d been through what she’d been through. Now I see it for what it was. Kirsty would come back with new little sayings, little ways of speaking that just weren’t her. It’s hard to explain.

  —Can you remember any of the things she said?

  —It was all – and I thought it was good at the time – all this stuff about opening your mind, allowing yourself to have new experiences. She talked a lot about ‘opening’, how she was now open, how I needed to be more open, to not follow the herd, that sort of thing. Now I see it for what it was.

  —Which was?

  —I think it was manipulation, brainwashing. And it seems to me now like some sort of competition. They were all competing to see who could be the most messed up. Then they would ‘open’ themselves to … to him. For him. All for him.

  —How did that manifest itself?

  —Apparently he would always home in on one – a different one every night. When Kirsty would come back to her room, she would be miserable, lamenting that one of the others had been chosen as his ‘special girl’.

  —What did that mean?

  —Kirsty said that the special girls would get to walk in the woods with him at night.

  —Why? I mean, what was the purpose?

  —It was all about ‘opening your mind’. Being ‘truly open with yourself’. Apparently he said he could only take those who were most open to see certain things. It was never Kirsty. I was gutted for her. That’s what she wanted, the whole time we were there. It felt like she was building and building up to being taken out with him into those woods.

  I wish there was some way I could find out for sure what these nightly excursions were about. It feels like we’re so close, yet there’s something crucial missing.

  —Do you know if Kirsty ever talked to the girls who went out into the woods with Crystal? His ‘special girls’?

  —Like I say, while we were there, she was much more open with me, but only to a point. It was like that forest thing was a big secret.

  —I have to ask another question: although Kirsty wasn’t a ‘special girl’ – did she spend time with Crystal in the tree house, alone. At night?

  Marie sighs, deep and long. She can’t meet my eye. The pain emanating from her is palpable. But I had to ask. Eventually she looks up, eyes wet with tears.

  —I … don’t know … for sure. She never told me if she’d been chosen. She had her own room next to mine, but I know she would stay up in the tree house late at night. They would watch horror movies … but they all did, they all did it. All the girls. I don’t know…

  A week into their stay at Crystal Forest, things went very wrong.

  —Maybe it was something like that which bothered me. I don’t know. One night, though, I just couldn’t sleep. I was tossing and turning, adjusting the air-con, going to the bathroom every five minutes. I just felt that something was wrong. Maybe it was mother’s intuition? Doubt that somehow.

  So I thought I’d get up, go and give Kirsty a knock. It was about midnight, and I figured she’d probably still be up. If not, I’d just pop my head round the door. She was in the room next to mine. At Crystal Forest, it was like a luxury hotel – the rooms were huge. Kirsty’s bed was on a mezzanine next to a window that looked out into the forest. Everything lit with flickering lights that looked like candles. It was stunning. I notice her door is ajar, so I pop my head in. The fairy lights are on – green and yellow stars and that project across the ceiling. I can see her bed but can’t tell if she’s in it or not. The carpet’s thick and I climb up the little steps to her bed. The curtains are open and the forest is out there, in the dark. Beautiful. But Kirsty’s not in bed. In fact the bed is made. They have the housekeepers make your bed every day. It’s smooth; like she’s not touched it. That’s when I got a bit worried. Midnight. Maybe it’s OK, I think. She’ll be up in the tree house with all the others. She’s thirteen.

  —Did you ever think about going up there and checking on her?

  —It’s embarrassing to say but I didn’t know how to get up there. I’d never been. His staff would come and collect Kirsty, and I’d go to the spa, the swimming pool. But then … I dunno. I just had this bad feeling. I thought I’d phone Mr Cryer – I had his number. I just thought I’d check Kirsty was OK. All the rooms had a phone next to the bed, so I go to pick it up when I hear something from outside.

  —In the forest?

  —Raised voices – someone having a row. That seemed odd; it was late. But it was still, there was hardly any wind. I looked out and couldn’t see anything. I was worried. What if he’d finally taken her out there and something had gone wrong?

  —What did you hear?

  —I couldn’t make out the words. It was … it was unusual. It felt like I shouldn’t have been able to hear anything. The windows were all reinforced glass and the rooms were high up, looking over the woods. But then there’s this … there’s this gust of wind. I can hear it making all the leaves in the forest tremble, they all shiver. They all moved together too, like a wave. It was a strange sight. Maybe that wind caught the voices, brought them to me.

  In what she describes as a ‘strange state’, Marie decided to investigate. It sounded like an argument, the rise and fall of the voices. One of them, she says, was distinctly female.

  —I was worried. I don’t know, it all seemed to hit me then, how little attention I’d paid to what Kirsty was doing. I thought I’d go out there, just in case, you know?

  —You said earlier that no one was allowed out into the forest, unless they were with Crystal.

  —That’s right. We were told we could go anywhere in the hous
e, but if we wanted to visit the museum on the top level, we had to be accompanied. That made sense; it was full of priceless stuff – all his stage costumes, his capes and stuff. And we knew we couldn’t go outside into the forest. Or we’d be sent home. But I thought they’d understand, I really did. I wasn’t going to go far.

  Marie put on some clothes and left her room. Walking out onto one of the walkways, she climbed down a wooden staircase and through a gate that said ‘Strictly No Unauthorised Entry’ on it.

  —It did feel dangerous. It felt forbidden. I knew I was doing wrong but I could hear the voices much louder out there. It sounded really bad, a really vicious argument. I was praying it wasn’t her – it wasn’t my Kirsty out there.

  —You walked into the forest?

  —It’s right there, right on the doorstep, just past a perimeter fence and you’re there, in that wood. No paths, nothing. It’s wild but it’s also beautiful.

  —No one saw you?