by A. B. King
“I actually met Julia in primary school,” Sandra explained. “I cannot say that she was a particular friend of mine at that stage, but even then I was struck by the fact that she was different from most of the other children; always very prim and precise, and not infrequently the victim of bullying. She was a bit of a swot, and did fairly well with her school-work, but I don't think she had a real friend in the school at all. When we moved up to the senior school, most of the other children went into different ones, and for some reason she gradually unbent a little with me. I think it was because I didn't rag her, and sometimes I stood up for her when she was being bullied. She wasn't an easy girl to get to know, and you always had the feeling that there was a lot going on beneath the surface that you would never know about. I saw her parents from time to time, and frankly, her father rather frightened me. He was a big, stern, unfriendly sort of man, and as I eventually learned, extremely Victorian in his outlook. Even his wife was completely in awe of him.
I learned just what sort of man he was one day when we were on a school outing to a farm. After lunch we were given permission to go exploring, and most of the kids went off in two's or threes. I started to walk towards some woods with Julia when a couple of my other friends waylaid me. Julia, of course, wouldn't join in, but continued on ahead and was soon lost to view. I eventually got away from the other girls and ran off in the direction that Julia had taken. Within moments I heard excited shouting and plaintiff cries. Knowing how some of the other kids loved to bully Julia I ran harder. There were three other girls there with her, two of them held her spread-eagled face downwards on the ground, and the third was scooping up mud from a nearby puddle. They had her skirt up and her pants pulled down, and were smearing the mud all over her backside!
Well, I gave one a thick-ear and pushed another face-first into the puddle, and they all made off in a hurry. Poor Julia was crying her eyes out, and I did what I could to help her wipe the worst of the mud off. It was while I was doing this that I noticed that her buttocks were criss-crossed with red weals. I thought for a moment that the bullies had done it, but then I realised that they simply wouldn't have had the time. Even to my child's mind it was obvious that Julia had suffered a real savage beating, and not long since either! I dried her tears and asked her who had done this to her. She didn't want to tell me at first, but eventually she told me that her father had caned her!
I couldn't believe it at first. I mean; my own father could be a bit strict at times, and once or twice he had tapped me on the leg when I was being particularly obnoxious, but the sort of ritualistic beating she had so obviously suffered seemed completely unreal. It transpired that her father was almost fanatical in the matter of discipline. I discovered that for any sort of misdemeanour, real or imaginary, she was sent to his study, and after receiving a lecture on the error of her ways she would have to lean over a chair, and he would use a cane on her. Sometimes it was only one or two strokes, and not administered too hard, but sometimes it would be several, and she really suffered.”
“Why on earth didn't she complain to someone?” Danny interrupted, clearly appalled by what she had just heard. “She could have told a teacher, or even her mother?”
“I asked her that. It seems that her mother was completely under the husband's thumb as well, and admitted that he beat her in the same way. When I said she should tell one of the teachers she wouldn't hear of it. In fact I was astonished when she said that her father was right to do what he did, because she was 'evil'! I couldn't understand it at the time, but later I realised that this is what he had been drumming into her from the beginning. He was a bible-thumper of the worst sort, declaring that her so-called misdemeanours were evidence of the Devil trying to take possession of her soul, and only by his strict application of discipline would she ever be free of eternal damnation! I was even more astonished when she assured me that she loved and respected her father, and regarded him as something of a saint. She told me that after punishment he would sit her on his lap and cuddle her until the pain subsided. She explained that he would rub his hands on her injured backside until the pain faded away. I didn't know the word at the time, but obviously the man was the worst sort of pervert, preying on his own daughter. I felt sorry for her, but I really didn't know what I could do about it once she had made me promise I wouldn't say anything to anybody.”
“And no one else knew that this was going on?” I asked.
“Not as far as I know. In light of later events I suppose it might have been better if I had broken my word, but then again, we can all be wise in hindsight.”
“Why, what happened?” Danny asked.
“Right from that day onwards I used to worry about her. From time to time I asked her if the beatings still occurred. She said that they did, but she deserved them, and her father was always so kind and loving towards her afterwards. We were coming up to puberty then, and one day she made a confession that shocked me absolutely rigid. We had been having sex education at school, and the mechanics of orgasm were eventually explained by our biology mistress. All dreadfully mundane stuff the way she presented it, and not in the least erotic. At that age I had no concept whatsoever of what a sexual orgasm might feel like, and frankly, I wasn't that much interested. Imagine my surprise when Julia confided in me that she knew all about them, and described them as being the most wonderful experience in her life. She went on to tell me that they would happen as a result of the beatings. Sometimes during the beatings, but sometimes during the ritual cuddling that followed them. This 'cuddling' from her description, was certainly not the sort of cuddling that any normal father would bestow upon a child. From what she told me I knew that he was by this time engaging in full sexual intercourse with his own daughter. I was utterly horrified by what she had revealed, and I told her it was absolutely wrong and disgusting; that she should tell someone, but she wouldn't hear of it, and reminded me of my promise. She declared that she loved her father, that he was a saint, and that he was saving her soul from perdition. That man had so twisted his daughter she actually believed that what he was doing was right and good! ”
Frankly, it was about as foul a tale of child abuse as I have ever heard of before or since, and the quiet way in which she related the sordid facts that she had gleaned from her friend it made it even more horrific. I found it hard to imagine any man abusing a child in such a way, but to think of a father doing it to his own daughter, and having such a hold over her and her mother that he could get away with it all his life was absolutely appalling.
“I suppose that was the point when our friendship started to wane,” Sandra continued, “I think perhaps she regretted telling me so much. Well, whatever the reason, she gradually grew more distant and reserved, and I took up with other friends. I tried to push the whole terrible business from my mind. I knew it was wrong, but I had given my word not to say anything, and I just hoped that someone else would discover what was happening, and do something about it. Then one day the fading friendship finally came to a complete break.”
“What happened?” Danny asked, her expression echoing the feelings of disgust I felt myself at what was being revealed.
“At the back of the school, as you would recall if this amnesia I know you suffered was not still plaguing you, there were some woods,” Sandra continued. “These were out of bounds, and nobody was supposed to go into them unless accompanied by a member of the staff. Well, it was break time, and I was wandering on my own down by the perimeter fence when I noticed that there was a break in it. I was curious, and went to have a closer look, and as I got nearer I heard the sounds of a girl crying bitterly in pain, and the sound of repeated blows. For a moment I didn't know what to do. I had half a mind to run back to get a teacher, but then I thought that if somebody was being attacked, they might even die before help could come. I climbed through the break in the fence, heading toward the sounds. What on earth I thought I could have done if I had come across a man attacking someone I don't know. Maybe I thought th
at if I screamed they would be frightened off and run I suppose. Anyway, I only went a short way in, and then in a clearing in front of me I saw Julia and one of the local boys, a lad called Ted Burnett.
Ted had Julia over his knees, her skirt up and her pants down as he was smacking his hand down hard on her buttocks. I watched appalled, not knowing what to do. Suddenly he threw her onto the ground and then swiftly exposed himself as he jumped on her. All I could think of was that my friend was actually being raped! I screamed out to him to stop as I ran forward in an effort to save her. Startled out of his wits, Ted scrambled back to his feet, swore, and ran off deeper into the woods.
'Are you all right?' I cried as Julia also scrambled to her feet and retrieved her underwear. To my surprise she turned on me like a vixen! 'You stupid, interfering bitch' she screamed at me, absolutely beside herself with rage, 'why don't you mind your own *%$*@|+* business?' To say I was shocked is a complete understatement. 'You say one word about this to anyone,' she snarled at me, 'and I'll see that Ted rearranges your face for you: permanently!' and with that she stalked off, leaving me there in a state of complete shock and utter bewilderment.
Well, that was the end of our friendship; she refused ever to speak to me again. At school I simply couldn't understand her, but when I thought about things a few years later I realised that she had by this time become totally corrupted by her father, and was acting out the belief of 'sin' he had inculcated within her so that she could merit more punishment at his hands, and the 'delights' that followed! In the months that followed she managed to keep matters pretty secret, but I am sure that more than one young blade discovered that Julia could be really turned on if one beat her. She eventually married a chap by the name of Johnson, and by reputation he was the dead spit of her father. I read somewhere that he died a little while ago, and now you tell me that Julia is dead also, perhaps by her own hand. What a sad end to a sad and twisted life.”
“Honestly, I never suspected for one moment that she had such a terrible background,” Danny said as Sandra sat back to see how we had reacted to what she had told us. “I mean, I had half an idea that she was a bit of a deviant, but what you have told me, well, all I can say is I now feel so very sorry for her.”
“And you suspect that she had a hand in the death of your sister?”
“Yes,” Danny admitted, “or at least, that she hadn't told the whole truth about what happened. Maybe my sister was knocked into the water by the lightning strike just as she said, but it doesn't seem to tie in with everything else we have discovered, and we have reason to believe that there was a man in the vicinity at the time, and maybe he had something to do with it; maybe they both did. I really need to know what happened that day, and I shall not get at the truth until I can track him down.”
“Which is not going to be easy after fourteen years.”
“I know that, but nothing is going to stop me trying.”
“It would help us if you give us the names of any other boyfriends she had,” I put in. “At this moment, it is about the only line of enquiry open to us.”
“That, I'm afraid, isn't going to be at all easy,” she said. “Much as I'd like to help, following the escapade with Ted I was never again in her confidence about anything. The best I can do is to suggest one or two names that rumour at the time implied may have been associating with her. Where you would find them is another matter, and like as not they have nothing to do with what has happened anyway.”
“Anything will help,” Danny said. “I'm hoping that the smallest clue might lead me to the man.”
“And what will you do when you find him?” Sandra asked.
I looked across at Danny to see how she would react. It was a question that had already crossed my mind more than once, only as I thought that the chances of finding him were pretty remote I hadn't bothered to add to my troubles by posing the obvious question myself. Still, it was out in the open now, and I was interested to see how she would respond.
“I'll get the truth out of him one way or another,” she rapped out without hesitation, “and if he had a hand in the death of my sister I'll see that he is made to pay for it!”
“Mr Hammond?” Sandra asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked at me.
“Naturally I am hoping that he will be able to confirm the essence of Julia's story and remove the doubts,” I said guardedly. “If our enquiries seem to indicate the possibility of foul play of any sort the matter will be put instantly into the hands of the police.”
Danny's expression suggested that she had other, and probably less civilised ideas as to what may befall the man should we ever catch up with him, but for once she held her tongue.
“Then, if I may make a suggestion,” Sandra said evenly, “rather than me recite a number of names which may not lead you anywhere, why not first have a word with a man called Simmonds?”
“Who is Simmonds?” Danny asked.
“Mr Simmonds is the local branch manager of Graviners Estate Agents in the High Street. He has been there for a good many years, and the important thing to note is this; that is where Julia worked at the period in question. He is an observant man, and it is just possible that he may be able to give you a much better lead than I can.”
“Ah, yes, I know Graviners,” I exclaimed before Danny could jump in again. “I have actually met Mr Simmonds in the past. If Julia worked there, then I think that that is an excellent idea.”
“I'm sorry I have not been able to help you more,” Sandra said, and then looked across at Danny. “I hope you do get this business sorted out,” she added.
“We'll get on to it now,” I said, rising to my feet. “Thank you so much for your time and help.”
I thought for a moment that Danny was going to launch into something else, but she caught my eye and subsided. We made our 'good-byes' and returned to her car.
“Why didn't you tell me Julia worked at an Estate Agent’s before she married?” I asked as we settled ourselves back into the car.
“I didn't think it mattered,” she replied defensively, “and what's more, I'm not sure if it matters now.”
“Well, there's only one way to find that out, let's pop along and long and see him now.”
“If you insist.”
“Oh, and a word of advice.”
“I'm listening.”
“Don't go flashing your knees at old Simmonds; he's a real stuffed shirt.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes, did you track down the dentist?”
“As a matter of fact I did!”
“And?”
“I hate to admit it; you were right.”
“I thought as much; now here's another word of advice.”
“You should be an agony aunt.”
“Keep the fact of your true identity strictly to yourself; you have nothing to gain by trying to prove you are your sister, and I doubt you really need me to remind you that the legal ins-and-outs that could ensue with regard to your business interests are endless. Least said soonest mended.”
“You could be right at that,” she admitted in a slightly sarcastic tone of voice, “Good, let's go find Graviners, and see if we can strike lucky there.”
I already knew where the place was, and gave Danny the necessary directions. The journey only took us a couple of minutes, and we found a handy slot in the car park to the rear of the premises without difficulty. I remembered the place from the time when I had been searching for a flat, and recalling that reminded me in turn that I would shortly need to find fresh accommodation. I still had Danny's things in the back of my car, and so far I hadn't quite summoned up the courage to dump them on her, probably because it was a bit like saying I didn't want her either, which was a complete inversion of the truth. As we left the car I wondered if Simmonds had changed since I last saw him. Frankly, I hadn't liked the man much at the time I had met him, but at that point I decided to keep my opinions to myself.
As we trooped in the door a fresh faced young man leap
t up from behind the desk, his face all eager with the prospect of selling another gullible young couple a grossly over-rated property destined to be a millstone round their necks for such a large proportion of their lives. I decided to disillusion him quickly once he had hopefully addressed us as 'sir and madam'!
“We would like to see Mr Simmonds, please,” I said, declining the offer of a chair at his desk.
“Er, he's rather busy at the moment,” said the still-hopeful young man. “Are you quite sure there is nothing I may help you with?”
I noted that the latter part of his sentence was directed at Danny, and I was quite sure there was quite a lot he would like to help her with, although probably it would have little to do with selling property.
“It is personal business,” I said as formally as possible. “We will wait.”
“Very well, I will go and find out when he will be free,” the young man agreed with a slightly crestfallen expression. I'm sure he had dreams of showing Danny around a show house somewhere. I glanced at her as he walked off and noted that she seemed scarcely to have noticed his existence. Two minutes later the young man returned.