Mummy, Make It Stop

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Mummy, Make It Stop Page 4

by Fox, Louise


  ‘Make sure you save some of that energy for the dancing this afternoon, Louise, you want to put on a good show for your mum and dad,’ she called. ‘I hope you’ve brought your letter in.’

  ‘I have, Miss, it’s here,’ I called back, pulling it out of my pocket and running to hand it over.

  Morning lessons seemed to last for ever. Even the sums lesson I normally loved dragged on and on. All I could think about was the performance that afternoon. I went through the routine over and over again in my head.

  I wasn’t the only one who was excited. The others who were dancing seemed to have an extra bounce in their step too. Maddie Harris had had her hair cut into a little bob, and it was shining with sparkly hair gel. I put my hand up to my own hair. I had tried my best to brush it and get the knots out, but I knew it wasn’t shiny and pretty like Maddie’s.

  When lunchtime arrived I was too excited and nervous to eat much, even though I’d had no breakfast. My insides were doing somersaults so badly that I was afraid I’d be sick. Then the bell went for the end of lunch and I made my way to my classroom with my PE bag. Most of the others were already there, chatting away to each other as Miss stood at the front of the class writing out on the board the order in which we would be lining up to walk out on stage.

  There it was, clear as anything, up on the board for all to see; Louise Fox. I was to go out third from the end, between Timmy and Sally. It was really happening. This was my chance. I was going to go out there and show everyone I wasn’t different - I was just the same as them. And Mum and George would be so proud of me and smile at me as I danced.

  I pulled out my PE clothes and plimsolls and began undressing as fast as I could. It wasn’t until I was dressed that I noticed the other girls weren’t in their PE kits. They had put on pink leotards and had fancy dance tights and leg-warmers, ballet shoes and ribbons in their hair. I looked like the boys, who had on tshirts and shorts.

  My face must have fallen, because the teacher came over to me.

  ‘Let’s get this in your hair, Louise,’ she said softly, producing a pink ribbon. She brushed my hair into a ponytail, and tied the ribbon round it. ‘There, you look lovely,’ she said, smiling down at me. She reminded me of Amber’s mum, who had spoken so nicely to me and looked so welcoming and warm.

  ‘Right, get ready everyone - get yourselves in order - we’re going out now. Good luck, and don’t forget to smile,’ said the teacher.

  I looked down at my feet and wriggled my toes around, hoping I would remember what to do. The teacher led the way down the corridor and across to the main hall, turning back every now and then to smile at us. When we got to the stage she stepped to the side, touching each of us as we went past her, whispering good luck or just giving us a big smile.

  As I went up I could see parents waving to their sons and daughters on stage. I was trying to find Mum and George, to give them a big smile and wave, like everyone else, but I couldn’t see them. I searched up and down the rows several times before I understood that they weren’t there.

  My heart sank. I had wanted so much for them to come. I should have known they wouldn’t, because they had never been to anything at school. But somehow I had wanted to believe that this time was different, that just this one time they would come.

  Shoulders sagging, I turned to take my place for the dance. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone waving. I looked across and saw Amber’s mum, waving at me and smiling. I smiled back and gave her a wave. Someone was watching me after all.

  We positioned ourselves around the maypole. It was beautifully decorated with pink ribbons. We took hold of one each, and began.

  For the next twenty minutes I was a different person. I wasn’t the shy, quiet little girl with no friends. I was popular, confident, happy and pretty. If I could have captured that feeling and bottled it I would have. Then I could have kept it in a secret place and taken it out whenever I felt low or sad, just to remember how wonderful it was.

  At the end, when I stood with the others and we bowed as the parents applauded and cheered, I felt I would burst with joy. Amber’s mum was still smiling at me, and I smiled back. She couldn’t have known how much she did for me that day, but I never forgot it.

  Chapter Four

  After that first time, George often made me go into his and Mum’s room and lie on the bed while he did horrible things to me with his fingers and made me do the dusting with him. He always had the pictures of naked women laid out on the bed. And sometimes he would leave the curtains open, so that if anyone in the houses opposite had glanced over, they would have seen what he was doing.

  He would force me to go upstairs with him two or even three or four times a week. Tanya and Jamie had to go upstairs with him too. And all three of us would come down again with tears in our eyes, subdued and unhappy.

  When it was my turn, I learned to block out most of what was happening. I would count, or try rolling my eyes back in my head, or stare at the ceiling and try to imagine I was somewhere else. I got so good at switching off that as soon as George started on me, a kind of shutter would come down in my mind and I would only be half aware of what he was doing. It didn’t make the pain or the hurt or the sadness any less, but it got me through it.

  I became very scared of the dark, but Mum and George just thought it was funny. One night I was up in the loo when George turned all the lights off, for a laugh. I was left in the pitch black, absolutely terrified. I called out, but no-one came, so I began to make my way downstairs, hanging onto the banister and going very slowly, almost paralysed by fear. As I got to the bottom, I saw a huge black shadow through the glass panel in our front door. It was too much for me; I began screaming and sobbing. George and Mum put the lights back on and came out of the living room to answer the front door. It turned out to be the husband of Mum’s sister. I was left shaking like a leaf, but Mum and George thought it was hilarious. After that, I was even more frightened and couldn’t be alone with the lights off for many years.

  The only time Mum was kind to me was in front of other people. A couple of times she had to take me to hospital, and then she would suddenly be the kind and sympathetic mother I yearned for. One time, I fell over and banged my head on the sideboard. I had a bad cut, which was pouring blood, so Mum took me to the local accident and emergency unit. We had to wait ages, and Mum was so nice to me - even offering me sweets - that I didn’t mind the pain; it was worth it for that hour or two of mothering.

  Another time, I had to go into hospital to have grommets put into my ears, because I wasn’t hearing much and the doctors said I had glue ear - fluid in the middle ear. It’s a common procedure that hundreds of kids have done, but it still felt a bit scary to me, having to be in hospital overnight. Mum was so nice to me in front of the nurses that I wondered if someone had swapped her in the night for a different mum who looked the same. But once we got home she lost interest in me, and things carried on just the same as before.

  By the time I turned six, Mum had given up her job, so we had even less money. And with all that time on her hands, she started spending hours poring over jigsaw puzzles on a board in the living room. She chose incredibly complex 1000-piece jigsaws, and would painstakingly put the pieces together over several weeks, oblivious to the rest of us as she munched chocolate and squinted at the hundreds of tiny bits of cardboard. When she’d finally finished one she would frame it and hang it on the wall.

  The other thing she liked to do, from time to time, was bake. She would make batches of buns and the whole house would fill with the delicious smell of hot dough. We would be allowed to have one after tea, and they were lovely. But one was all we got, because Mum would eat the rest, one after another, as she sat watching her favourite soaps.

  I thought that I would have to live with George forever. The beatings and abuse went on and on and I couldn’t imagine things getting better.

  And then one day, not long before I turned seven, everything changed.

  It
happened on a day when George had decided to pay a rare weekday visit to his mum. After tea, Mum settled down on the floor, her feet up on the settee, and ordered me to tickle them with a cotton bud, and rub foot cream into them. While I rubbed away, Mum stared at the TV, her glasses perched on the end of her nose, eating her way through a large bar of chocolate. I looked longingly at it, but she was oblivious to me, and I didn’t dare ask her for a piece, knowing that I would either be totally ignored or get a furious look and a threat of trouble from George when he got home.

  Tanya was sitting beside me, waiting for her turn with Mum’s feet, and both Paul and Jamie were playing out in the street.

  Suddenly, there was a furious knocking at the door. Mum told Tanya to answer, and Auntie Coleen burst in, sobbing and calling Mum’s name. Auntie Coleen was one of Mum’s sisters. The two of them were close, and often saw one another, and we sometimes went to play with Auntie Coleen’s daughter, Emma, who was a little bit older than Tanya.

  Auntie Coleen and Mum hurried off into the kitchen, slamming the door behind them as they went. Tanya and I looked at each other, both of us confused and alarmed. We could hear murmurs and then raised voices coming from the kitchen. Neither of us spoke, but we knew something was seriously wrong.

  A few minutes later, Auntie Coleen came out, followed by Mum.

  ‘Right, you two, I want you to listen carefully,’ Auntie Coleen said. Her tone was very serious and my mind was racing. What had I done wrong? Had the shopkeeper on our street seen me stealing biscuits? Had George told her I hadn’t been a good girl? I glanced over at Tanya who was looking down at the floor.

  ‘Emma stayed at her friend’s house last night and while she was there her friend’s dad tried to do something to her,’ Auntie Coleen said.

  The hairs on my arms stood on end and my insides twisted into knots. What was this about?

  ‘Do you know what I’m saying?’ she went on. ‘He tried to touch her in rude places.’

  For a moment there was silence as she looked over at Mum, who looked nervous.

  ‘Has anyone done that to you?’ Mum asked, her voice quieter than usual. ‘Has anyone touched you?’

  I felt panicky. What did she mean? Was it what George did to us? I thought Mum knew all about that, I thought it was what all families did.

  My heart was beating very fast and my eyes switched from the floor to Tanya and back to the floor again. Unsure about whether to say anything or not, I shook my head and swallowed hard. Tanya did the same.

  Auntie Coleen came over to us and leaned down. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘You won’t get into trouble. Just tell us the truth - has anyone touched you in private places?’

  There was silence for a moment, and then Tanya spoke.

  ‘Yeah, but only Dad,’ she said, eyes fixed to the floor.

  ‘Me too,’ I added quickly.

  Mum shrieked, startling us. She started shouting at Auntie Coleen, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. I felt very scared. What was happening? Why was she so upset? Were we in trouble? Tanya had said it was only Dad, and that was OK wasn’t it?

  Auntie Coleen grabbed hold of Mum, who was sobbing loudly, and held her tight. Tanya and I stood rooted to the spot, watching them. I looked over to my sister, wanting reassurance, wanting this to end.

  Auntie Coleen let go of Mum, who ran into the kitchen, grabbing hold of the phone on the way. Auntie Coleen reached out her hands and pulled us towards her. By this time I was shaking and it was so good to be held tightly in her arms. I hoped she would never let go, but a moment later Mum came out of the kitchen and Auntie Coleen let go of us and went over to her.

  Still unsure about what to do, Tanya and I stood silently, confused and scared, watching the madness unfold. Why was Mum crying so much? We just didn’t understand.

  The phone rang and Mum picked it up.

  ‘You bastard, what have you done, George?’ she yelled. ‘Don’t go anywhere, they’re coming for you,’ she shouted, and she slammed the phone down.

  Mum turned to look at me and Tanya, but without connecting or focusing on us. It felt as though she was looking straight through us, as if we were not really there. That’s how it felt inside as well.

  For the next half hour, Mum paced up and down, crying and saying to Auntie Coleen, ‘What if he comes here? If he does, that’ll be it. Make sure the chain’s on the door.’

  Mum and Auntie Coleen carried on talking to one another, while Tanya and I stayed where we were. We had no idea what to do. It seemed like Mum hadn’t known about what George was doing - she was in a dreadful state. And it wasn’t OK, like George had said. It was wrong, because Mum had called the police and shouted at George.

  Now George knew we had told he would get us, I was sure. Thinking about the beating we would get, I started to cry.

  Suddenly there was a bang on the door. We all jumped. Then a voice said, ‘It’s the police,’ and Auntie Coleen opened the door. Two officers came in, a man and a woman. The man went into the kitchen with Mum and Auntie Coleen, while the woman officer came and sat with us, smiling awkwardly at us both, but not saying anything.

  When they all came back out of the kitchen, the police officers said we needed to go to the police station. They took us all outside and put us into their car. No-one spoke for the whole journey. Tanya and I sat in the back, our heads down, looking at the floor. What had we done? What was going to happen now?

  When we arrived, Auntie Coleen put her arm around Mum as we were taken to a door at the back of the station. The lady officer gently ushered me and Tanya inside, walking between us with a hand on each of our shoulders. We were all taken into a room and asked to sit down, and a few minutes later another woman appeared. She was small and round, with glasses and wavy brown hair and she told us her name was Anna Smithson and she was from the social services. I wondered what they were.

  Mum and Tanya were asked to go into another room, while Auntie Coleen and I stayed where we were. The lady officer brought in some orange juice and a plate of biscuits and showed me a box of toys and books in the corner of the room, saying I was welcome to play with them. Her voice was gentle and that made me feel a bit better. I was grateful for the drink because my mouth felt so dry, but I didn’t feel like playing. I wanted to know what was happening, but I was too scared to ask anyone and no-one seemed to want to tell me.

  It seemed like hours before Tanya came back, and when she did it was my turn to disappear with Mum into the other little room. Inside were a man and a woman sitting on one side of a table. I didn’t know if they were police officers or not, as they didn’t have uniforms on. We were asked to sit in the two chairs facing them, on the other side, while the lady from social services, Anna, sat nearby. She smiled at me reassuringly and that made me feel a tiny bit less scared.

  ‘Hello, Louise, me and my colleague are just going to ask you a few questions,’ the woman said, leaning towards me. ‘There’s nothing to be worried about, we just want you to tell us as much as you know.’

  Mum was sitting next to me and I looked at her. I hoped she would nod or smile to let me know it was OK, but she was looking down at the table with her head in her hands.

  Slowly and falteringly, I began to describe what George had done. Whenever I stopped they asked questions in nice, soft voices and, feeling encouraged, I was soon in full flow, telling them everything. In a funny sort of way, I liked the attention they were giving me. They kept saying I was doing well and to keep going, and that felt nice.

  Next, they handed me a pencil and paper and asked me to draw pictures of what had happened and where I was and where George was when we did the dusting. I did my best and when I had finished I looked up and saw that the woman looked upset. I looked over at the man, and he looked very solemn. There wasn’t a warm feeling in the room any more and I burst into tears and turned to Mum, who turned away from me. What had I done that was so wrong that all these people, including my mum, looked so upset and angry? I felt so empty and alon
e, even though there were four grown-ups there with me.

  The two officers got up from their chairs and nodded towards the woman from social services. She quickly stood and, touching my back, ushered me out of the interview room and into the room where Tanya and Auntie Coleen were. Mum followed and a few minutes later we were told that we could go home. We were given a lift back in the police car.

  Paul and Jamie, who’d been out when the police first came, had been found and taken to the police station as well. They arrived back home soon after us, both of them looking upset.

  When we got home there was an angry silence. Mum didn’t cuddle us or reassure us and she didn’t make any tea for us - but I don’t think I could have eaten anyway. I felt awful, as though we had spoilt everything, we were the ones in the wrong and it was all our fault. I felt sick inside, my head was spinning and I was finding it hard to focus on anything at all.

  The police had told us that George had been arrested and we wouldn’t have to see him again, but we were all still scared that he would come back to the house and find us and then punish us for telling. Every time we heard a sound outside the door we all jumped.

  That night, lying in bed, I felt the whole world had come to an end. I should have been happy that George wasn’t around any more and couldn’t hurt us, but I wasn’t. I was afraid that Mum would never forgive us - she seemed so angry. I felt alone and cold and unable to sleep. I wanted to speak to Tanya but didn’t know how to. It was as if there was some kind of unwritten rule that we must never speak about it.

  The following day, we were all driven into the centre of Manchester by a lady from social services. We were taken to a big building which we were told was called a medical centre, where there were doctors. When we arrived, Anna Smithson was there. She explained that a doctor was just going to check us over, to make sure that we were all right, and no damage had been done.

 

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