Secrets

by Lesley Pearse

  The sentence she’d given the children was, ‘It was a – day, so Mrs Jones hung the washing in the garden.’

  The others had slipped in ‘lovely’, ‘nice’ or ‘windy’, but Jack had put ‘bloody’.

  ‘Why bloody, Jack?’ Adele asked, trying hard to keep a straight face.

  ‘Mum always said, “It’s bloody washing day” every Monday,’ he replied.

  She read them the first chapter of Treasure Island afterwards, and when the bell went for tea she felt very pleased with herself that both lessons had gone so well.

  That first day was the only one when Adele managed to hold the attention of the classes. As each further day passed, their behaviour gradually grew worse. By the end of the week they were all larking around the whole time, and Adele got the blame from Mrs Makepeace because they were making so much noise.

  All at once Adele found herself friendless because the children saw her as Mrs Makepeace’s spy and excluded her from their games and conversations. Even the younger children kept their distance. Once in her attic bed she could hear the other girls chatting and laughing together downstairs and she felt they were laughing at her. On top of that, Mrs Makepeace was very sarcastic towards her, and any questions were met with, ‘You’re the clever one, work it out for yourself.’

  Four whole weeks crept by, each one leaving Adele more miserable and isolated. Sometimes she was afraid that Mr Makepeace was gone for good, because his wife seemed so angry, and Adele felt she’d just wither up and die if he didn’t return.

  Then one morning as she was peeling potatoes for dinner, she heard his car draw up outside. She didn’t dare run out to him of course, but her heart began to hammer and she rushed to the window to look at him.

  She thought he looked as handsome as a film star in his dark grey suit and trilby hat. His face was bronzed from the sun and as he saw her at the window and smiled, his teeth flashed brilliant white.

  Mrs Makepeace dished up the children’s dinner, warned them to behave while they ate it without her, then took hers and her husband’s into their living room. She emerged again over an hour later, just as Adele was finishing the washing up. The other children had skipped off to play outside, and Beryl was wheeling Mary around in her pram trying to get her to go to sleep.

  ‘My husband wants to see you in the schoolroom after you’ve done these,’ Mrs Makepeace said curtly, banging down a tray loaded with dirty plates and glasses.

  Adele only nodded. The grim look on the woman’s face was enough to know something had upset her.

  When Adele finally got to the schoolroom, Mr Makepeace was sitting on the window-sill smoking his pipe and she rushed to him, throwing her arms around him.

  ‘You’ve been away so long and it’s been terrible without you,’ she blurted out.

  He laughed softly. ‘I’ll have to go away more often if I get a welcome like this when I get back,’ he said.

  ‘I missed you so much,’ she said, and began to cry, spilling out how she couldn’t teach the younger ones anything, and she hadn’t got a friend in the whole place.

  He moved on to a chair and drew her on to his lap. ‘I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,’ he said, drying her eyes with his handkerchief.

  ‘It was, it was,’ she insisted. ‘I couldn’t bear it.’

  He cuddled her to him and rocked her in his arms. ‘I missed you too,’ he said. ‘But I have to go away now and then, I have business to take care of.’

  When he began kissing and stroking her Adele was so pleased to be with him again that she found she didn’t mind as much as before. He said he wished he could take her away with him, and that maybe when she was a little older he could.

  Beryl was lurking in the corridor when Adele came out of the schoolroom an hour later.

  ‘Teacher’s pet,’ Beryl hissed scornfully at her.

  ‘You’re only jealous,’ Adele retorted. ‘I can’t help it if he likes me because I’m the only one of us who wants to learn anything.’

  ‘That’s not what he likes you for,’ Beryl snapped back, her small face full of spite. ‘He likes anyone who lets him stick his hand in their knickers.’

  Adele stopped in her tracks, astounded by what the younger girl had said. ‘That’s a filthy thing to say,’ she gasped.

  ‘He’s the filthy one.’ Beryl shrugged. ‘He tries it on all the bigger girls, that’s why Julie ran away.’

  Adele walked past with her nose in the air. She didn’t believe Beryl, and she wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of thinking she’d upset her.

  But as she helped Mrs Makepeace get the tea ready, spreading margarine on the bread, and laying out plates and cups on the table, she was still mulling over what Beryl had said.

  Soon after Adele arrived at The Firs she recalled Mrs Makepeace laying into a couple of the children because they’d said a girl called Julie had run away. Mrs Makepeace said they were talking rubbish, and that Julie hadn’t run away at all, but left because she was fourteen and old enough to go to work.

  Adele was fairly certain that Beryl had concocted her nasty version of Julie’s story with the aid of Ruby. The new girl had a dirty mind, she was always saying grubby things, and Beryl hung on her every word.

  ‘What on earth’s up with you?’

  Adele jumped at Mrs Makepeace’s angry voice. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, just look how much marge you’ve spread on that slice of bread,’ she said, wiggling a tablespoon menacingly at Adele.

  Adele looked down and saw that she had spread enough marge for several slices. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I was thinking about something.’

  ‘Well, stop it,’ the woman snapped. ‘Thinking isn’t any good for girls in your position. You have to learn to work and do it quickly, that’s all.’

  Adele woke with a start that same night to hear a creak on the stairs coming up to the attic. She sat up in bed and looked towards the door, but she could see nothing because the light on the downstairs landing had been turned off.

  A stair creaked again and all at once she saw a big dark shape in her doorway. She was just about to scream when she smelled lavender hair oil. ‘Is that you, sir?’ she whispered.

  ‘Yes, my love,’ he whispered back. ‘Not a sound please, we don’t want to wake anyone else up.’

  ‘Is there something the matter?’ she asked when he’d come right in and shut the door.

  ‘No. I just wanted to be with you,’ he replied.

  As her eyes got used to the dark she could just make out that he was wearing his pyjamas, and he sat down on the bed beside her and made it creak.

  ‘You’ve stolen my heart, Adele,’ he said, taking one of her hands and rubbing it between his. ‘All I can think about is you.’

  Adele didn’t know what to say. He had stolen her heart too, but it didn’t seem right that he was creeping about in the dark to say such things.

  ‘May I lie beside you?’ he asked. ‘I just want to hold you.’

  Adele moved over, but the bed was very narrow and there wasn’t much room for him too. ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ she ventured nervously, suddenly thinking of what Beryl had said again.

  ‘Why, my darling?’ he said, scooping her into his arms. ‘Didn’t you ever get into bed with your father for a cuddle?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t allowed.’

  ‘But you would have liked to?’

  Adele remembered that Pamela had often gone into bed with their parents, especially when she didn’t feel well. Adele had always envied her. She had tried to do it herself a few times when she was five or six, but her mother always ordered her back to her own bed. ‘Yes, I would’ve liked to,’ she admitted. ‘But it’s different with you.’

  ‘Why is it?’ he asked, kissing her forehead. ‘I love you like you were my own daughter.’

  That made it seem right, and she relaxed against him, and as he held her closely to him the warmth and comfort of his arms made her sleepy again.

&nb
sp; She woke later to find herself alone in her bed, and the first rays of morning light were just coming in through the window. For a moment she thought she had dreamed he was there with her, but as she turned her face into the pillow she smelled his hair oil and knew it wasn’t a dream.

  Later that day in a lesson with the other older children he gave her a secret kind of smile, and when the lesson was over he asked her to stay on in the classroom for a minute.

  Once the others had left, he came over to her. He smoothed her hair gently. ‘You fell asleep before I could explain why I came,’ he said. ‘You see, I can’t continue with our private lessons.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked.

  He shrugged. ‘I have to spend more time with the other children.’

  A cold shudder went down Adele’s spine. She wanted to ask if that meant she wasn’t special to him any longer but she didn’t dare.

  ‘Don’t look that way,’ he said. ‘I can’t help it. The others need my help more than you do.’

  Her eyes filled with tears, and he reached out and wiped one tear away with his thumb. ‘It doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring for you. We just have to find other ways to be together sometimes.’

  Her heart leaped, and she ran her sleeve over her damp eyes and smiled.

  ‘That’s better.’ He laughed softly. ‘It will be our little secret. But you mustn’t tell anyone! Promise me?’

  Adele nodded, happy again.

  ‘Good girl,’ he said. ‘Now off you go and I’ll see you later.’

  In the days that followed Adele felt increasingly confused and worried because nothing at The Firs was the same any more. Prior to Mr Makepeace going away there had been no timetable, or strict routine, Mrs Makepeace had always told the children at breakfast the jobs she wanted them to do that day. It was a fluid arrangement, varying according to the weather, her mood, and whether anyone was receiving punishment. She normally stayed at the breakfast table reading the paper with Mary sitting beside her in the high chair, and the oldest children went off to do allocated jobs – laundry, cleaning the bathroom or sweeping and polishing the bedroom floors.

  Now there was a timetable pinned to the kitchen wall, and every child over five was to have school lessons each day. Mrs Makepeace said nastily that they were all lazy good-for-nothings, and it was high time they realized they weren’t on holiday. She said that any misbehaviour in the classroom or failure to do their jobs properly would mean there would be no outside play later in the day.

  The middle group had to go straight into the schoolroom immediately after breakfast, during which time the oldest group, which included Adele, had to do all the cleaning and laundry. Mrs Makepeace no longer sat at the table with her paper, she rushed around like an angry hornet, lashing out at anyone she felt wasn’t pulling their weight.

  If baby Mary, or Susan or John, the three-year-olds, got in her way, made a mess or any noise, she became irate, often terrifying them by shouting at them.

  Dinner had to be served on the dot of twelve and eaten in silence. In the afternoon the oldest group had their lessons, and Mr Makepeace was just as tetchy as his wife. Adele could hardly believe how hard he was on Jack and Freda, calling them stupid and often clouting them round the ear just for getting a sum wrong. He belittled Beryl and Ruby when they read aloud and stumbled over hard words.

  Adele found the afternoons endless, for the lessons were aimed at the least able of the group, all stuff she’d done several years before. Sometimes Mr Makepeace would give her a book to read, or some mathematical problems, but mostly he didn’t even acknowledge her presence in the room.

  She would stare out of the window, watching the breeze fluttering leaves on the trees, and wonder what had gone wrong. It seemed to her that it had to be her fault, though she couldn’t see why.

  After tea the others were allowed out in the garden until bedtime, but Mrs Makepeace made Adele do mending. The pile of socks needing darning, and the heaps of shirts or blouses with missing buttons never seemed to grow any smaller. Adele got the idea Mrs Makepeace was digging out old clothes from the cupboards just to keep her busy.

  It was all very reminiscent of how it had been at home, with Adele alone singled out for punishment. Mrs Makepeace never spoke to her directly, just dumped things in front of her or barked an order at her. So Adele did exactly what she’d always done at home, just did as she was told, never answered back, and kept her tears in check until she was alone in her room.

  She was still crying late one night when Mr Makepeace crept into her room again. She didn’t know he was there until he sat down beside her.

  ‘What’s the matter, my darling?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s all so horrible,’ she wept. ‘I can’t bear it.’

  He got into bed with her again that night and rocked her in his arms.

  ‘It’s all my fault,’ he said. ‘My wife is jealous because she has guessed how much I care for you. I have to pretend I don’t feel anything more for you than I do for the others. I’m so sorry.’

  She fell asleep later, and like before, when she woke in the morning he was gone. But that day she felt better, for he’d said that one day soon he’d take her away from The Firs, and bring her up as his own daughter.

  On the Saturday of that same week, a big black car came in the morning to take the middle group of children for a day out at the seaside. It was a beautiful morning, with a faint mist still lingering, promising to be very hot later, and as Adele watched the children climbing excitedly into the back of the car she would have given anything to be going with them.

  ‘Lucky little bleeders,’ Ruby said at her elbow. ‘Who is that woman taking them anyway?’

  ‘Someone from the church,’ Adele said, looking at the plump woman in a pink dress leaning into the back of the car and organizing the children. ‘I hope none of them gets sick, or she won’t take anyone again.’

  ‘No one wants big girls like us anyway,’ Ruby said gloomily. ‘We’ll be stuck here till we’re fourteen, then they’ll make us go and work in a factory.’

  Having thought about little else but Mr Makepeace all day, and found it far too hot to sleep, Adele was thrilled when she heard him creeping up the stairs to see her that night. But almost as soon as he lay down beside her she felt something different in his manner. He smelled of drink rather than his customary hair oil, and he put his hand over her mouth to shush her when she said something about the younger children’s trip to the seaside.

  He didn’t seem to want to speak to her either, and kept kissing her on the mouth with wet, sloppy lips. Then all at once he was pulling up her nightdress and trying to touch her private places.

  ‘Don’t,’ she said, pushing his hands away. ‘It’s not nice.’

  ‘But it is, my sweet,’ he said, his hands going back to the same place. ‘This is what people who love one another do.’

  She kept pushing him away, but when he kept on coming back she became really frightened. Beryl’s words, things she’d heard Ruby say, all took on new meaning, and she started to cry.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ he said, and took hold of her hand, drawing it down the bed towards him.

  She stiffened as he placed it on something warm and hard, about as thick as her wrist, but it was a few seconds before she realized what it was. She had only ever seen little boys’ willies, soft, wiggly things no bigger than her thumb.

  ‘No,’ she cried out in disgust and tried to get away from him.

  But she couldn’t escape, she was trapped between him and the wall, and he was forcing her fingers round that big, horrible thing.

  ‘Hold it nicely,’ he said, his voice all gruff and insistent. ‘See how hard and big it is. It likes to be held.’

  He clamped his hand over hers, forcing her to hold it and rub it up and down.

  ‘Shush,’ he said, putting his free hand over her mouth when she tried to yell out. ‘Mrs Makepeace will be very angry if you wake her, and this is our special secret.’

  Adele trie
d to fight him off, but he had her half pinned down by his body. His breathing was getting harder and noisier as he made her rub him harder, and worse still he was trying to get on top of her and push her legs apart. Instinct told her what he was trying to do, and she struggled still harder to get free.

  ‘I won’t hurt you, darling,’ he said hoarsely. ‘I only want to love you. Let me do it, please.’

  Adele was now beside herself with terror. The drink on his breath was making her feel sick, he was wet with sweat, and each time he thrust himself at her, he jarred her spine on the hard mattress. She wanted to scream out, yet she knew if Mrs Makepeace came she’d get the blame, and all she could do was wriggle and wriggle so he couldn’t get that big thing in where he wanted to.

  Just as she was getting too exhausted to fight him any more, he made a kind of deep throaty groan and all at once she felt something horribly warm and sticky on her hand and belly.

  ‘Get off me,’ she managed to stammer out as he removed his hand from her mouth, ‘I’m going to be sick.’

  He moved quickly as she retched, jumping out of the bed as if he was on fire. ‘Quick to the bathroom,’ he said. ‘If anyone comes I’ll say I heard you call out.’

  Adele fled down the stairs and into the bathroom, just reaching the lavatory in time as she retched again, this time bringing up everything she’d eaten that day.

  She didn’t know how long she stayed on her knees clinging to the lavatory bowl, but it seemed like hours. She heard his voice whisper something at the door, but she told him to go away. She could smell him on her, the sticky substance drying like glue on her hands and belly, and that made her retch again and again.

  Later she sat on the floor, leaning back against the cool tiles, too desolate even to cry. Her eyes had grown used to the darkness now, and it mirrored how she felt inside.

  There was no sound from along the landing and she guessed he’d gone back to his own bed. She imagined him getting in beside his wife, and hated him so much she felt she could kill him with her own bare hands.

  Later she washed herself all over and went back to her room. Yet the moment she was in there, she knew she couldn’t get into her bed. The smell of him was in the room, she doubted it would ever go. He was just downstairs, and she knew he would do it again the moment he got the opportunity. She had to flee this house now while she still had a chance.