‘Thanks, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘I’m just going to go and freshen up before your mum gets home.’
He went to the bathroom and ten minutes later I heard the front door open. Mum was back: Davina was in her pushchair and there were bags of shopping hanging off the handles.
‘Dad’s home,’ I told her.
I saw her whole body tense up.
‘He’s going to go and get us fish and chips, Mum,’ said David.
‘Is he now?’ she sighed. ‘How many times have I heard that?’
‘He is, Mummy, he promised,’ Laraine told her. ‘And he’s taking us to the seaside.’
Mum just rolled her eyes and started to put away the shopping.
‘Where is he?’ she asked.
‘He’s in the bathroom freshening up, then he’s going down the chippy,’ I said.
The weary expression on Mum’s face said it all. How many times had Dad promised to do something and how many times had we sat there waiting? She’d had a lifetime of broken promises.
‘Mum, I really think he means it this time,’ I said.
But before she could answer, Dad came out of the bathroom. He was dressed in a nice shirt and a smart suit. He always took pride in his appearance even if it was just to go down to the fish and chip shop.
‘Hello, Mo,’ he said to Mum.
‘Welcome back,’ she replied.
She didn’t even lift her head up to look at him.
‘I won’t be long,’ he said, heading out of the door.
We sat down to watch a bit of telly. An hour went by but Dad wasn’t back yet.
‘Shall I get us something to eat?’ Mum asked.
She made a sandwich for Davina and Laraine but David and I refused.
‘Dad’s bringing us fish and chips,’ I said.
Another hour passed and there was still no sign of Dad. Mum ran us a Dettol bath. David and I got in first, then Davina and Laraine.
The two little ones went to bed but David and I stayed up. We waited in our pyjamas in the front room, not prepared to give up on the promise of fish and chips.
‘He’ll be back soon,’ David told me as I stifled a yawn.
By 10pm my tummy was rumbling and I was shattered.
‘I’m hungry,’ moaned David.
Mum didn’t say a word. By 10.30pm the telly had clicked off because the meter on the back had run out of ten pences.
‘Right, bed,’ said Mum.
David had fallen asleep by now so she carried him to his room.
‘But Mum,’ I said, ‘Dad’s getting us fish and chips.’
‘How many times has he said that?’
‘He will, Mum,’ I said. ‘I know he’ll be back soon and he’ll be cross if we’ve gone to bed.’
‘It’s 10.30pm, love,’ she replied. ‘He’s not coming back.’
I could see she was angry. So I went to bed hungry but most of all disappointed, not with Dad but with myself for believing his promises again. After all these years, I should have known better. Eventually I drifted off to sleep.
Something had woken me. I looked at the clock: 11.30pm.
I heard a key in the door, footsteps staggering around in the darkness. Dad was finally home.
I turned over on the top bunk and pulled my flannelette sheets and yellow blanket over me while Laraine snored away in the bottom bunk. My tummy was still rumbling with hunger but it was too late now. Promises had already been broken.
I heard Dad knocking on his bedroom door. Angry with him and not wanting him coming in late and waking Davina who slept in there in her cot, Mum had obviously locked it.
‘Open the door, Mo,’ he yelled. ‘I’ve got fish and chips.’
Too little, too late.
‘Open this bloody door.’
But his pleas fell on deaf ears and Mum didn’t respond. Then I heard footsteps coming along the hallway. A figure in the doorway.
‘Hi, Princess, are you awake?’ he said.
I shut my eyes and pretended to be asleep.
‘Princess, Daddy’s home.’
I didn’t say a word. I heard him climb up the ladder to my top bunk and smelled the strong stench of alcohol and tobacco as he lay down beside me.
‘Sweetheart, I’ve got you a present,’ he said.
‘Dad, I’m tired,’ I sighed, turning away from him.
‘I mean it, I’ve got you a present,’ he said. ‘Open your eyes and have a look.’
I opened them but the room was pitch black.
‘I can’t see anything,’ I told him.
He took my hand and guided it to something warm and quivering at the end of my bed.
‘I got you a puppy,’ he said.
I was so happy and excited. I’d begged Mum for a dog for years.
‘Please can I see it?’ I asked.
‘In the morning,’ he replied.
‘Please, Dad,’ I begged.
‘I said you can see her in the morning,’ he told me. ‘We can’t put the lights on now, it will wake your sister.’
‘I suppose so,’ I sighed. ‘Thank you, Daddy.’
‘That’s OK, anything for my best girl.’
My eyes were heavy with sleep, but I so desperately wanted to see my new dog.
‘What colour is she, Dad?’ I asked.
There was no answer, just the sound of snoring beside me. I knew I would have to wait until morning to find out, so I closed my eyes.
The sound of whimpering must have woken me up. It was still dark and Dad was passed out beside me.
‘Dad, wake up,’ I whispered. ‘The puppy’s crying.’
His arm was draped across me so I tried to lift it off. I knew he could hear me because the snoring had stopped.
‘Dad,’ I whispered.
‘Shut up,’ he hissed.
‘Dad, I need to go to the toilet.’
‘No, you don’t,’ he groaned.
‘Dad, I do,’ I said. ‘And the puppy’s crying. What’s the matter with her?’
Suddenly I saw him sit up in the darkness. He took off his tie, unbuttoned his shirt and pulled off his trousers. I couldn’t understand what he was doing.
‘Come here,’ he said, reaching out for me.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to.’
I felt frightened although I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was something about the tone of his voice? It sounded like the way he spoke to Mum before he lunged at her.
‘I said come here,’ he growled. ‘Don’t you like your present?’
‘Yes, I do,’ I said.
‘Well, come here.’
‘Dad, I don’t want to,’ I told him. ‘I’m going to the toilet.’
‘No, you’re not,’ he said.
I tried to get to the top of the ladder so I could go to the loo but his arm yanked me back. I was terrified now as he knelt over me, holding me down on the bed.
‘Dad, you’re hurting me,’ I whispered.
‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ he said.
His face was inches away from mine now and my body was pinned underneath him so I couldn’t move. I flinched as I felt his hand lift my long cotton nightdress up, his fingers probing, digging, hurting. Just like Auntie and Uncle.
‘Dad, stop please,’ I begged.
His mouth covered mine, silencing me. All I could taste was stale beer and cigarettes. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t scream. Then he lay on top of me and I felt an excruciating pain, a horrible burning sensation between my legs.
I tried to move but I couldn’t and all the air was being squeezed out of my lungs as I felt the weight of him moving up and down on me. Eventually I felt him tense and at last he rolled off me.
I lay there, paralysed with fear. I couldn’t move. I tried to say something but no words came out. I could hear whimpering again but this time I realised that it was me making that pathetic noise and not the puppy.
I heard a voice in the darkness.
‘Sweetheart, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m drunk, I n
ever meant this to happen. Please forgive me.’
He reached out to touch me but I flinched and he pulled his hand away.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said again.
I huddled up against the wall, desperate to get as far away from him as I possibly could. I lay there motionless as I felt him pull down my nightie from up around my waist. I heard the zip of his fly as he put his trousers back on, followed by his shirt.
‘Goodnight, Princess,’ he said as he climbed down the ladder.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I just lay there, unable to take in or understand what had just happened.
I was nine years old. I didn’t really know about sex but as with what the foster parents had done to us, I knew what had just happened was very, very wrong. But this wasn’t a stranger, it was my own flesh and blood.
I heard my sister stirring in the bunk below. Oh God, did she know? Had she seen what our father had just done to me?
‘Laraine,’ I called out to her. ‘Lal, are you awake?’
But she didn’t answer and thankfully I could tell that she was still asleep.
The light from the landing was on now and I could see the outline of my new puppy curled up at the bottom of my bed. She was a scruffy little thing, black and tan.
Only minutes ago I had been so happy and excited about seeing her. Now all I had was a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
She was no longer a gift, a present from Daddy. She was my reward and I had paid for her dearly.
I needed the toilet so badly but I was scared in case he was out there in the hall, waiting for me. I swung my legs onto the ladder and felt the cold metal against my feet. My legs were weak and wobbly and there was a sharp pain in my tummy as I hobbled to the door.
Thankfully there was no sign of my father as I crept onto the landing. I opened the bathroom door as quietly and as carefully as possible, praying it didn’t creak like normal. Safe at last, I pulled the bolt across and turned on the light.
I looked at my reflection in the mirror, hardly recognising the girl staring back at me. My face was pale, my eyes were red and puffy and my lips swollen. I sat down on the toilet, the seat cold against my skin. I was desperate to pee but I was too scared. Eventually I forced it out but the stinging was unbearable.
I sat there, still in shock. Was it my fault? Had I done something to make him do it? Had I said something wrong?
Was it only a few hours ago that David and me had sat happily playing in the bath, eager to get out and have our fish and chips? It all felt like such a long time ago now.
Wiping myself carefully with toilet paper, I winced at the pain. I could see the start of purple bruises on the inside of my thighs and as I stood up, a trickle of blood ran down my leg. I was scared and wanted Mum but what would I say to her? I couldn’t tell her what Dad had done because I didn’t really understand it myself.
I felt dirty and disgusting and I had an overwhelming urge to wash it all away. I filled the sink with hot water and looked around for some soap, anything to get the smell of him off me.
All I could find was some toothpaste so I squeezed the whole tube straight into my mouth. It stung but I didn’t care. I saw the bottle of Dettol on the side of the bath from earlier and I tipped a load into the sink and watched the water turn cloudy. Then I got a flannel and scrubbed myself over and over again until my thighs were red raw and all I could smell was the overpowering antiseptic of the Dettol.
Slowly I opened the bathroom door and tiptoed across the landing. I passed David’s room, where I could hear him snoring, and then went into my bedroom. Laraine was asleep and the dog was still curled up at the bottom of my bed. I climbed up the ladder and pulled the sheets over me, but they wreaked of Old Spice and cigarettes and it made me feel sick.
I tried to sleep but all I could hear were his words in my head.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.’
Did I believe him or was it just another lie? Had he really meant to do that to his own daughter?
I didn’t know what time it was but I lay there for what felt like hours. Eventually I heard the birds twittering and saw the first glimpse of dawn through the crack in the curtains.
The first day of the summer holidays. How was I going to carry on as normal after what had just happened? My whole world had changed and now I was going to have to face the man that had done this to me.
I must have dozed off eventually as I woke up with a start. Laraine’s bed was empty now and I could hear Mum making breakfast in the kitchen.
Had I imagined what happened last night? Was it all just a bad dream? Then I heard it. A whimpering sound coming from the end of my bed, and I saw my dog properly for the first time.
I don’t want a puppy, I told myself.
Because that meant what had happened last night, what my father had done to me, was all real.
She wasn’t as small as I thought she would be. She wasn’t really a puppy, either: she was a scrawny, bedraggled stray. She had a mark around her neck where her collar had rubbed and I could see her ribs sticking out from beneath her fur. I didn’t want to love this dog as I knew she’d be a constant reminder of what he had done. But I knew it wasn’t her fault and I could see that this poor neglected mutt needed me.
‘Hello,’ I said to her.
Her little ears pricked up when she heard my voice. Her tail wagged and her big brown eyes locked with mine. I reached out to stroke her but she cowered away, pushing herself against the metal foot of my bed.
‘Come here,’ I whispered, holding out my hand for her to sniff. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’
As soon as the words were out of my mouth I realised with horror that was exactly what my father had said to me, only hours before.
‘Come here,’ I said again. ‘It’s OK.’
I could tell the dog was scared, but in the end curiosity got the better of her and she edged closer. I gave her a stroke. She felt warm, soft and comforting. My heart went out to this little bedraggled dog who just wanted a bit of love and kindness because I knew exactly how she felt. And as she climbed onto my lap and I held her close, I couldn’t stop the tears from falling.
Chapter 4
New Neighbours
I decided to call my new dog Judy, just like Mum had called her dog when she was a girl. I was so busy stroking her matted fur, I didn’t even notice that Mum had come into my bedroom.
‘Oh, you’re awake,’ she said. ‘I’ve done you a bit of toast.’
But I didn’t want breakfast and most of all I didn’t want to have to face that man. I couldn’t even bring myself to call him Dad any more.
‘I ain’t hungry, Mum,’ I said. ‘I don’t want no breakfast.’
‘You must have something, love,’ she said, reaching up to give Judy a stroke.
‘Your dad said he’d got you a dog. At least he kept one of his promises, eh?’
I nodded. If only she knew what he’d taken in return.
Eventually I summoned up the courage to go into the kitchen. Thankfully there was no sign of Dad and I prayed that he’d cleared off back to the pub again. I got my toast and walked up the four steps leading to the front room, where we had a dining table in the bay window. Davina, Laraine and David were sat there tucking into toast and jam and, to my horror, Dad was sprawled out on the old blue sofa asleep. He was fully clothed in his shirt and suit and he’d even put his tie back on.
I felt sick to my stomach at the sight of him. My hands were shaking as I picked up a piece of toast.
Just act normal, I told myself. Pretend he’s not there.
I took a bite of toast but as I tried to swallow it, the bread got stuck in my throat and I retched. I ran to the bathroom, where I was violently sick.
Nobody had noticed, but I knew that I couldn’t even be in the same room as him. I was frightened about how he was going to react to me and I was terrified of Mum finding out.
The one place I felt safe was in the bathroom because it was the only room with a
lock on the door, so I got dressed in there. Afterwards I was in the kitchen giving Judy some water when Dad walked in.
‘I promised I would get you a puppy, didn’t I, Princess?’ he said.
I stared at the floor, not able to even bring myself to look at him.
‘Shall we take her down the park for a walk?’ he asked.
I just shook my head. He walked towards me but I started to edge away until I was pressed against the back door.
‘I’m so sorry, Princess,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was doing.’
I didn’t say a word. I tried to get past him but he got his wallet out of his pocket and handed me a pound note.
‘What’s that for?’ I asked.
‘Go buy the dog a collar and lead,’ he said.
‘I don’t want your money,’ I replied, pushing his hand away.
He left it on the side and walked out. I was shaking like a leaf and I felt like bursting into tears.
It was only years later that I realised Dad couldn’t have been that drunk if he’d remembered everything so clearly the next day. He’d managed to get his key in the front door, climb up the rickety little ladder to the top bunk and back down again, where he’d got himself dressed. I’d seen him in far worse states, when he was so paralytic that he’d just pass out in the hallway. To this day, I still believe that my father knew exactly what he was doing.
I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t I say anything? Why didn’t I tell Mum or my granddad? But I was nine years old and I was scared. I knew Mum would be upset and it would cause rows between them and that Dad would take it out on her. Imagine if he killed her and I was responsible? Also I was terrified that if I told anyone we would be taken off Mum and sent to live with Auntie and Uncle again.
So I dealt with it the only way I possibly could. I pretended that it had never happened, tried to forget. But in reality, I never ever forgot. Every day I had Judy there to remind me of what my dad had done. I felt so torn. I wanted to hate her and all that she represented. I didn’t want a dog if that was the price that I’d had to pay but I couldn’t help but love this bedraggled stray.
Later that day, I went into the kitchen and saw Dad’s pound note still on the side. Normally he was taking our money from us rather than giving it to us. So, before I could change my mind, I put it in my pocket and went down to the pet shop in Greenwich and bought Judy a collar and lead.
A Sister's Secret Page 4