A Sister's Secret

by Debbie Grafham

  * * *

  Days went by and I tried to get any thoughts about Patrick Ryan out of my head.

  A week later Laraine and I were messing about in the porch, playing marbles. As usual, Mum was out cleaning and David was at a friend’s house. Suddenly we heard a voice coming from upstairs. The flat door was open and there was Alison, sitting on the top step.

  ‘Hi Laraine,’ she said. ‘Are you coming up to play with me?’

  Laraine looked at me but she knew exactly what I was going to say.

  ‘No way,’ I whispered to her.

  ‘Ple-e-e-ase,’ begged Alison. ‘Come and see my Sindy dolls, Laraine.’

  I felt sick at the thought of either of us being anywhere near Patrick Ryan but I knew I couldn’t stop Laraine. With or without my blessing, she was going to go up there and there was no way on this earth I was going to let her go up there alone.

  ‘If you’re gonna go up there then I’m coming with you,’ I told her.

  We went upstairs and followed Alison into the front room. Their flat was a lot nicer than ours. The walls were all freshly painted and the furniture was newer. I couldn’t see Pat but I could hear him banging about in the kitchen.

  I was on edge knowing that he was in the house. I sat on the sofa while the girls played with some dolls on the floor. Eventually Pat came in. He didn’t say a word to me or Laraine, didn’t even look at us.

  ‘Alison get to your room, it’s nap time,’ he said to her.

  She did as he said straight away.

  ‘Bye, Laraine,’ she called, giving her a wave as Pat took her to her bedroom.

  ‘Right, we’re going,’ I whispered to Laraine, getting up to leave.

  But before she could reply, Pat came back into the room.

  ‘Get Alison a drink, will you,’ he said to me. ‘There’s some squash in the kitchen.’

  I didn’t want to leave Laraine but I was so terrified of him, I did what he said. Besides, I knew he wouldn’t dare touch her if I was around.

  I went to the kitchen, which was down a little flight of stairs at the back of the house, just like ours. On the side were some pink beakers. I didn’t know where anything was so I hunted round for ages until I found a bottle of orange squash in one of the cupboards and poured it out. I thought I’d better take the beaker of juice back to Pat so I carried it carefully into the living room. As I walked in the door, I gasped. Patrick Ryan was on top of my sister on the floor, abusing her again.

  I dropped the squash onto the floor and it went all over the grey cord carpet.

  ‘Get off her,’ I screamed, running towards him.

  And just like before, I tried to pull him off Laraine. She wasn’t screaming or crying like last time. She just lay there motionless on the floor, her eyes closed like she was in some sort of a trance.

  ‘I said get off her,’ I screamed, pulling at his dirty white T-shirt.

  ‘You leave my sister alone or I’m going to tell my mum about you.’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ he spat, ‘My brother’s a policeman and no one will believe you.’

  ‘And if you do,’ he said, coming so close to me I could smell the stale beer on his breath. ‘I’ll kill you both and your mum.’

  I was shaking, completely terrified. I believed every word of it.

  Meanwhile, Laraine was still lying there motionless. Even when I helped her off the floor and pulled her shorts up, she showed no reaction.

  ‘Lal, you’re OK,’ I said. ‘Talk to me,’

  But she didn’t say a word and just stared straight ahead into space.

  As I helped her out, Pat was stood by the door.

  ‘Why are you doing this to her?’ I said. ‘Why can’t you just leave her alone?’

  An evil grin spread across his face.

  ‘There’s only one way of making sure that I’ll leave her alone,’ he sneered. ‘And that’s if you let me do it to you.’

  ‘You’re never touching her again,’ I said.

  ‘Only if you let me touch you instead,’ he replied.

  I was so horrified, I didn’t say a word. I helped Laraine down the stairs to our flat.

  When I closed the front door, I was shaking like a leaf. I was absolutely terrified of Patrick Ryan. What kind of animal would dare do that to a seven-year-old girl?

  I knew I couldn’t let that happen to Laraine again. When Mum and Davina came back a few hours later, I never mentioned a thing. I didn’t dare now that he’d threatened to kill us. I believed everything he’d said and I knew he meant every word.

  Over the next few days neither of us talked about what had happened but I could see the effect it had had on Laraine. She insisted on sleeping with the light on and one night she shook me awake.

  ‘Deb,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve had an accident.’

  The poor thing had wet the bed and she was devastated.

  ‘It’s OK, Lal, it doesn’t matter,’ I reassured her. ‘We’ll wash your sheets out tomorrow when Mum’s at work and put them out in the garden to dry. She’ll never know.

  ‘Come and get in with me.’

  ‘Thank you, Deb,’ she said.

  She climbed up to the top bunk and snuggled into me. As I cuddled up against her frail little body, I knew whatever happened I couldn’t let Patrick Ryan hurt her again. She was my little sister, it was my job to protect her. No, I would never let him touch her again. But I knew there was only one way Patrick Ryan would agree to that. The thought of it made me feel sick but if it was either me or Laraine, I knew what I had to do: I would have to sacrifice myself to save my sister.

  Chapter 6

  The Ultimate Sacrifice

  I didn’t have to wait long until our next run-in with Patrick Ryan. Three days, in fact.

  I was playing in the garden with Judy one afternoon when I realised that I hadn’t seen Laraine for a while.

  ‘Lal?’ I shouted in the back door. ‘Lal, where are you?’

  As soon as I set foot inside our flat, I knew instantly where she’d gone. My stomach was churning with dread as I walked out of our front door and up the stairs to the flat above. I tried to prepare myself for what I was going to find this time. Whenever I closed my eyes, I’d see an image of Patrick Ryan on top of my poor little sister and that awful distant look on her face. To my surprise, there was no one on the landing but I could hear noises coming from the kitchen.

  Oh God, had he got her in there?

  I ran in, expecting the worst, but Pat was there on his own.

  ‘Where’s my sister?’ I said. ‘I’ve come to get her.’

  ‘She’s playing with Alison in the front room,’ he said gruffly.

  After everything that had happened I still didn’t believe he hadn’t touched her. I ran up the small flight of stairs into the front room and there were Laraine and Alison sitting on the floor, eating sweets out of Russian dolls.

  ‘Look what Pat gave us, Deb,’ said Laraine, lifting hers up and showing me some pink Jelly Tots stuffed inside.

  I was relieved that she was OK but cross with her at the same time.

  ‘I told you not to come up here without me,’ I said.

  ‘When I went inside for a wee I heard Alison calling me,’ she replied.

  I was angry and annoyed that she still wanted to go up there after everything that had happened. I didn’t want to be anywhere near that man, especially after what he’d said to me last time about only leaving Laraine alone if he could abuse me instead. Pat had come back into the front room.

  ‘I’m thirsty,’ said Alison. ‘Please can I have some juice?’

  ‘I’ll go and get you some from the kitchen,’ he said.

  He came back in with two pink beakers of orange squash and handed them to Alison and Laraine.

  ‘I’ll go and get mine,’ I said.

  In hindsight I shouldn’t have left the safety of the living room but I didn’t think. Instead, I walked straight into his trap.

  I was getting my drink when Pat came back into the k
itchen. I picked up my beaker but as I turned around to walk out of the door, I felt his arm around my neck, dragging me back. I was so shocked, I dropped the cup and juice splashed all over the floor.

  My hands were shaking and I was rooted to the spot. You see I knew instinctively that he was going to abuse me. Pat pulled me up the stairs that led down to the kitchen and took me onto the landing. I desperately wanted to fight back but I knew it was hopeless. Even though I was a chubby nine-year-old and not a skinny little thing like Laraine, I stood no chance against a fully-grown man. Patrick Ryan wasn’t muscly like my dad but he was tall, and to me he seemed huge. He pushed me onto the floor.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I whimpered.

  I soon found out what horror he had in store. He pulled his jeans down and forced his willy into my mouth. Holding the back of my head, he moved me backwards and forwards on him again and again. It was horrible. I couldn’t move or breathe and I really thought I was going to choke.

  It only lasted a couple of minutes until a gloopy, salty liquid gushed into my mouth and hit the back of my throat. It was so disgusting that I retched and was violently sick. He was fuming.

  ‘You stupid little bitch,’ he said, hitting me round the side of my head.

  I felt so humiliated. I was nine years old and being made to do this to this man. The kind of thing you only do when you’re intimate with someone as an adult. Not to a scared, bewildered child.

  He handed me a pink tissue and I wiped my mouth and my face and then without saying a word, he went back to the front room. I ran downstairs to the safety of our flat and locked myself in the bathroom. My face ached and my throat burned. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Patrick Ryan had done to me and I was violently sick again. I swilled my mouth out with TCP but I was convinced I could still taste that disgusting white goo, so I got the bottle of Dettol and took a big sip. For a split second I considered swallowing it but it burnt me so badly that I spat it out. My lips and the inside of my mouth were smarting but I didn’t care. Any pain was better than the taste of him.

  Half an hour later, Mum and Davina came back. It was hard acting normal and pretending that nothing had happened. I didn’t dare say a word as I knew what Patrick Ryan would do to my family if I told.

  I was desperate to get out of the flat and try and clear my head.

  ‘I’m gonna take Judy to the park,’ I told Mum.

  ‘OK,’ she said. ‘But please be careful, mind the roads and don’t be long.’

  I walked to the little park down the hill and when I got there, I took off Judy’s collar and lead and let her have a run. I sat on the swing and watched her chasing around, sniffing trees and pawing at sticks. I thought of everything that had happened to me in those past two weeks and I felt sick. First my dad, then Laraine being abused by Patrick Ryan and now me. Why were these awful things happening? Why me? Was it something that I’d done? Was it my fault?

  It had all started with my father and that silly, scraggy old mutt. Even though I loved Judy with all my heart, I didn’t want to. As I watched her running around the park I realised that every day I looked at her she would just be a constant reminder of this horrendous summer and how dirty and disgusting I felt.

  So I did something terrible, something even now I’m so ashamed of. I got up, threw Judy’s collar and lead in the bin and walked away.

  ‘I’m sorry, Judy,’ I whispered to myself as I headed home without her. ‘I can’t love you any more.’

  She had become a symbol of every bad thing that had happened to me and I didn’t want her. But I still cried my heart out as I walked home up the hill.

  ‘Where’s the dog?’ asked Mum when I got back.

  ‘She ran off again,’ I lied. ‘I’ve looked everywhere.’

  ‘Don’t worry, love, I bet she’ll turn up,’ she said.

  Judy had managed to get out of the garden a couple of times and had always come home a few days later. But this time I knew it was different. She’d never find her way back from the park.

  I felt so guilty that night I couldn’t sleep.

  Please let somebody find her and look after her, I told myself.

  Busy Greenwich High Street was only a few second’s walk from the park and I was worried that she might have got run over. Even though I didn’t want her, I didn’t want anything bad to happen to her and I hoped someone nice would take her in.

  The next morning Mum came rushing into mine and Laraine’s bedroom.

  ‘Guess who’s home?’ she smiled.

  The next minute I heard a bark and Judy came padding in.

  ‘Judy!’ said Laraine. ‘She’s back.’

  I was so relieved to see her and that she was OK, I burst into tears.

  ‘I’m so sorry, girl,’ I whispered.

  No matter how hard I tried or what she reminded me of, I couldn’t stop myself from loving her.

  I had prayed that it was a one-off but over the next few weeks Patrick Ryan continued to abuse me. Every morning I would wake up and think, ‘Is he going to hurt me today?’

  He would take his chance whenever Laraine went up to play with Alison and I would follow as there was no way I wanted her to be alone in that flat.

  One afternoon he dragged me out of the kitchen and pushed me onto the landing. To my horror, he started to perform oral sex on me. I didn’t know what it was called at the time but I knew it was horrible and I felt so embarrassed having to lie there while he put his tongue inside me. It really hurt my legs, and my thighs were red raw where his stubble rubbed my skin but it was more the humiliation of having to lie there while he did these things to me that I hated.

  Another time he pulled down my shorts then he went off to the bathroom and came back with a pink bottle. I knew it was bubble bath as it was similar to the ones that my mum ordered from the Avon catalogue. As he poured some of the gloopy pink liquid on his fingers, the strong flowery smell almost made me gag. I felt sick with fear, wondering what he was going to do next. I soon found out. Pain seared through my body as he rammed his fingers deep inside me.

  I shut my eyes and tried not to cry. I told myself, please don’t let Laraine come out of the living room and find me like this.

  But another part of me was hoping that someone did walk up the stairs. I didn’t want to tell anybody but I wanted somebody to catch him, to find out what he was doing to me. I constantly begged and pleaded with Laraine not to go anywhere near the upstairs flat.

  ‘I don’t want to go up there,’ I would tell her. ‘I can’t face it.’

  But no matter what I said, as soon as she heard Alison calling her she would go up there regardless. One morning I realised that she had gone up there without even asking me. As soon as I realised that she had gone, I was up there like a shot. Whatever happened I wasn’t going to let my sister be up there on her own. The flat door was open as always and as I bolted up the stairs, I saw Patrick Ryan on the landing.

  ‘Come to find your sister, have you?’ he said. ‘I was just about to go and get her from the front room.’

  ‘No!’ I said. ‘You’re not going to touch her again. I’m going to take her home right now.’

  I marched towards the front room but before I could go any further, he grabbed me and threw me down onto the landing floor.

  I was frozen with fear as he pulled down my shorts and pants, then he stood over me and started to unbuckle his belt and unzip the flies of his dirty jeans.

  Please God, no, don’t let him do this.

  He didn’t say a word but I knew what was about to happen. With his trousers around his ankles, he lunged towards me. He still had on the same grubby white T-shirt that he always wore and the smell of sweat was so strong it made me gag.

  He stared at me with such a look of disgust, like I was something he’d trodden on in the street. I’ll never forget his horrible face with his lanky brown hair scraped back in a ponytail and that dodgy left eye that turned inwards and never moved. I closed my own eyes because I couldn’t bear to
look at him.

  I could hear Alison and Laraine chatting as they played in the front room. Too far away for them to hear or see anything.

  At least it’s not Laraine, I told myself. This is what I had to do to protect her.

  ‘Open your eyes,’ he ordered as he climbed on top of me and forced my legs apart.

  ‘I don’t want to,’ I mumbled.

  ‘I said open your fucking eyes,’ he sneered.

  I did as he said because I was so terrified, but I didn’t want to see what was happening. I just wanted to transport my mind far, far away and pray this would be over and done with as quickly as possible.

  As he lay down on top of me, I felt like I’d been winded. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move. The back of his hand was holding my hair down on the carpet so I couldn’t lift my head up. He tried to kiss me but I clamped my mouth shut. So he squeezed both my cheeks until my lips gaped open like a fish then he forced his tongue in. It was disgusting and the taste of cigarettes and stale beer made me retch.

  As he forced himself inside me, an excruciating, burning pain seared through me and it felt like my body was being ripped in two. I could feel the rough grey cord carpet underneath me rubbing the backs of my legs and bottom red raw like sandpaper.

  But I didn’t cry. I just told myself over and over again: This is what you have to do to stop him hurting Laraine.

  It seemed to go on forever until suddenly I felt a wet sensation between my legs and Pat jumped up.

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’ve gone and pissed yourself,’ he said.

  I felt so ashamed.

  ‘I-I’m sorry,’ I stuttered. ‘I didn’t mean to.’

  He was so angry he hit me round the side of the head. ‘You dirty little c**t,’ he growled.

  He held out his penis and urinated all over me.

  It was the ultimate humiliation and I felt so dirty. Somehow him weeing on me was almost worse than the actual rape itself.