Silent Child

by Toni Maguire

  He’s not going away, Fear muttered, just stay silent.

  So, I did – my body was so stiff that I could not have moved, not even when his hands gripped the backs of my shoulders, drawing me firmly against his own body. I could feel puffs of his warm breath on my cheeks and the smell of his aftershave was stronger. It filled my nose and seemed to enter my throat, making me feel nauseous – it always did, even when I smelt it in a room that he had just left. I tried to hold my breath to stop it.

  ‘Is this what you and Ben get up to when my back is turned?’ he asked as his hands fumbled under my pyjamas. ‘I think it is and that you enjoy it.’

  I wanted to say no, that I didn’t know what he was talking about, but Fear kept me silent. That part of him I hated was digging in my back while his hands ran up and down my body and then snaked down lower to touch me between my legs. I wanted to wriggle away but his other arm was holding me so tightly, it was impossible to move. He grunted in my ear and his body shook against mine.

  ‘You’ll get to like me being nice to you,’ he said, his fingers still stroking my chest.

  Please go, was all I could think. Please, please!

  I finally felt him sitting up, then he was out of my bed.

  ‘Don’t forget about tomorrow,’ he told me, and then I could hear him fumbling for his clothes until at last, the door clicked behind him.

  My hands grasped the pillow and I buried my head in it to choke back the scream shooting up through my body. I just knew that if I opened my mouth and allowed it to escape, it would fill the room with all the anguish trapped inside me.

  Dear Diary

  He came into my room this time. Said I might need company because I had been on my own all day and gave me a cuddle. That sounds all right, doesn’t it? But it’s not. Not when he takes his clothes off and gets in beside me.

  That thing that boys pee with is forced into my hand. Hot and slimy, it makes me feel sick. He holds my fingers over it, forces my hand up and down until my hands are sticky – sticky with something that comes out of him. It leaves damp patches and clings to my skin.

  Ugh, it’s so gross! And it smells horrid.

  When he left, I had to move away from that damp patch he’d left behind.

  Chapter 37

  I couldn’t bring myself to face Ben and then walk away without saying anything. How could I? He was my closest friend. Out of all my cousins, I felt he really ‘got me’. He never once said anything when I avoided white lines. In fact, he laughed, held my hand and helped me jump over those sections on zebra crossings, making it feel that it was a game we were both playing. Nor did he ever tease me about my eating habits or mention my sucking my tongue when stressed, which I was each time he took me home. And if he had heard me talking to myself, which I’m sure he had, he just acted as though it was perfectly normal.

  Understanding my confidence needed building, he made a point of telling me his teacher had referred to me as his ‘clever little cousin’ – ‘Oh, come on! You must know you are,’ he said, nudging me in the ribs when I looked doubtful. I could hardly bear the thought of not spending any more time with him, he had looked out for me ever since I could remember.

  When Ben was given the task of taking me home each night as soon as the phone rang, he would give me that smile that lit up his face and bounce over to where I was sitting: ‘Come on, Sprat, journey time,’ he would say as he pulled me up. I knew that he was totally aware that I hated that journey home and I really wanted to stay where I was. That’s why he tried to turn it into a joke and chatted to me right up until we were outside the door. Then he would give my shoulders a squeeze and say, ‘Night, Sprat, see you tomorrow.’

  I felt physically sick at the thought of ignoring him. In fact, I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it if I saw him. What? Stick my head in the air and walk away as Carl had told me? He would just think it was me playing a game and chase after me. And then what would I do? I was not allowed to say that Carl had told me to ignore the family and that if I was being loyal to him, it had to be my decision. If I continued walking away from Ben, I knew he would grab hold of me and demand an explanation – not that he wouldn’t immediately guess who the person behind my actions was.

  I could just imagine the questions he would fire at me if I tried to get away from him. He had a knack of quizzing me about Carl, or rather ‘your mother’s new man’, as he called him. I had guessed from some of his questions that he had never taken to my stepfather. In fact, I knew he was suspicious of him. He was pretty sure I was not being treated properly and persisted in asking me questions as to how he was towards me. But what could I say without bringing trouble down on my shoulders? So, I kept quiet.

  I had learnt from a very young age that loose-lipped mouths cause nothing but problems, hadn’t I?

  Had Carl not thought that he would be blamed for my actions? No one would think I had thought of it all by myself. But then, that was something for him to work out.

  Mine was to avoid punishment.

  * * *

  I decided that the only way I could avoid Ben was by darting out through the back of the school. There was a pathway there leading to a small padlocked gate. I would have to climb over it, but that would be better than going out through the main gates where my cousin would be waiting. When the final bell rang, I sped as fast as I could to that gate and once over it, ran all the way to the bus stop. Luckily, I was tall for my age so I looked older than eight – children as young as me were seldom unaccompanied on public transport.

  How I wished, as I did so often, that I had never walked into my parents’ bedroom that day. If I hadn’t seen anything or even kept quiet, I wouldn’t have to look at the face I disliked so much over the breakfast table every morning. Nor would I be forced to listen to his demands as he announced different ways of taking away my access to the people I loved.

  But then no one can undo what’s done, can they?

  Ben must have realised very quickly how I was managing to avoid him. On the third day, what I was most dreading happened: Gran turned up. Not at the school gates, but by the padlocked one. For a moment I stood stock-still, wondering what to do. I knew she had seen me. No point sprinting back to the main gates either, I was pretty sure that Ben would be waiting there. I felt waves of panic as I realised that I was trapped.

  I just knew that if I stopped and talked to her, Carl would find out. I didn’t know how he managed it, but he had an uncanny knack of knowing exactly what I did each day. He had already praised me for not talking to Ben – I didn’t have a clue how he knew that. I only confided in my diary and that was locked, right?

  Now, what did I say about that little demon Fear removing all rational thought? All I had to do was run up to Gran, ask her to let me stay and tell her everything that was happening at home. Within a nanosecond, the family and social workers would have been hammering down Carl’s door. In fact, my guess now is that if I had told my gran everything that day, the family and my real dad might just have gone to visit Carl first, before handing him over to the police. Which would hardly have been difficult with having an uncle in the force, would it? But then I didn’t know that my stepfather was breaking the law, so rational thought refused to put up a fight, but Fear did. It whispered to me just how bad my punishment would be if I stopped and talked to her.

  Just climb over that gate and run, it told me.

  And that’s exactly what I did.

  ‘Emily,’ I heard her say, ‘what’s the matter, love?’ And her hand reached out to me as I climbed down.

  That was the split second my life could have changed but as usual, Fear triumphed. Instead of hearing her caring voice, it was Carl’s harsh one that filled my ears with his threats of what he would do to me if I disobeyed him.

  ‘No!’ I almost screamed before turning and running away as fast as I could. I didn’t wait for the bus, but ran the entire way home. In my room, I sat shaking on my bed and I opened my diary:

  Dear Diary

>   You know I told you that Carl has forbidden us to have anything to do with Mum’s family? That he shouted at us until we said yes? And Mum was crying all the time? I think she still is. So am I. I’m trying not to, I’m not a baby anymore. Today is the worst day ever. I did something really bad – Gran came to the school and I ran away. I hate myself for that. Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?

  Chapter 38

  The following day, when I returned from school, Carl told me he had heard what had happened when my gran turned up. How had he known was the question that shot into my head. I thought that Gran must have rung and I waited for Mum to tell me that she had received a phone call from her very upset mother, but as usual since Maria’s death, her pale face was expressionless and she didn’t say a word.

  ‘So, tell me exactly what happened,’ my stepfather asked me. He must have known that it was the last thing I wanted to talk about. Not that he cared, he just grinned away while I tried to describe how I had clambered over the gate and run off. For me, it was one of the hardest things to do, but for him, it must have been one of his proudest achievements. He couldn’t disguise his joy at the thought of me running away the moment I saw her, he loved the idea of making my grandmother upset. More than that, he loved how strong his control of me was becoming.

  ‘Good girl, now tell me again,’ he said, shooting a wide smile in my direction.

  I could hardly bring myself to look at my mother, who sat there silently as he kept stopping me and asking questions as I went through every detail of that encounter. With every word that came out of my mouth, I wanted to cry in anguish while he on the other hand doubled up with laughter – ‘Oh, I wish I could have seen her face! Well done, Emily! She did well, didn’t she, Betty?’

  No answer.

  ‘Your family are not going to give up easily, are they, Betty?’

  She shrugged.

  He was right about one thing – they didn’t.

  Chapter 39

  Carl might have congratulated himself on what he saw as his success in making us ignore Mum’s family, but had he really thought what the outcome would be? Did he truly believe they would take it lying down? Because if he had, he got it wrong. They must have taken turns for our phone rang constantly. If Carl was home, the ringing tone placed a dark expression on his face.

  ‘Leave it!’ he snapped when he saw Mum begin to move towards the phone. ‘We know who it is, don’t we? It’ll be one of your sisters or your mother.’

  I don’t know how many times she asked him to let her speak to them before she eventually gave up. She was too afraid to ring them herself because the first thing he did when he walked through the door was to check the ‘last number called’ facility. Other times, ignoring her, he would walk over to the phone and tell whoever it was on the line that Mum was resting or that Emily couldn’t come to the phone because she was busy with homework before placing it down abruptly.

  The family’s next step was to call round when they thought Carl was out. He of course had anticipated that and made sure he arrived home at odd times so Mum never knew when to expect him. I don’t know if she ever let them in, or what she said if she had – I just knew that she was not getting better from the depression that consumed her. At mealtimes I watched as she hardly ate and only spoke to agree lethargically with something he had said. Within a short time she had become a thin, grey shadow of the woman, who just a few weeks earlier had glowed with happiness.

  But the one person Carl could not stop me seeing was Dad – he had a legal right, which he made very clear when my stepfather tried to put him off fetching me. It was the Saturday after I had run away from my grandmother that Dad picked me up from school. He waited until we reached the cafe before asking me what was happening.

  ‘Your gran rang and told me about the other day after school. What made you act like that, Emily?’

  Just remembering that afternoon made my eyes well up with tears.

  He leant over the table and covered my hand with his.

  ‘They’re not angry with you, just terribly worried. So, what’s going on with you and your mum?’

  ‘She doesn’t want to see them.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Don’t know.’

  I gave the same answer to every other question he asked.

  ‘I’m your dad, Emily, you can tell me anything,’ he said.

  Perhaps I might have believed him if we had not been apart until he obtained joint custody. It was during that time that I was brainwashed into believing he didn’t care for me – a belief that however nice he was to me had not gone away completely.

  My dad must have asked Lily to try and find out what the problem was for I had hardly taken my coat off when he made some excuse and disappeared, leaving us together. Lily, to my utter surprise, told me to come and sit next to her and asked how I was feeling, saying she understood it must be a really difficult time for me.

  ‘You know, your dad is worried about you,’ she told me.

  Everyone was, it seemed.

  ‘Emily, is there something bothering you?’ she asked, placing her perfectly manicured hand briefly on my arm.

  Don’t trust her, whispered Fear.

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked, desperately trying to buy myself a little time.

  She lifted my chin then, so our eyes met.

  ‘Is everything all right with you and your stepfather, is what I mean.’

  Yet another Get Out of Jail card that I didn’t pick up – it seemed throughout my childhood I was pretty good at ignoring them.

  ‘Yes,’ I managed to say.

  ‘Are you sure?’ she said, looking at me kindly.

  At this my resolve almost disappeared and I nearly opened up to her. Nearly, but not quite, for Fear refused to remain silent.

  You know she doesn’t want you here, it muttered. She’ll tell your mum.

  An image of a pair of large hands with chunky rings shot into my mind.

  ‘I’m OK, it’s just that Mum is so unhappy and I wish Maria hadn’t died, that’s all,’ I told her.

  She didn’t believe me, I just knew it.

  Dad must have told her to ask me that. He should have asked me himself if he really wanted to know, I told myself rebelliously. But then I didn’t take into consideration that he already had.

  He must have thought that it might be easier for me to confide in a woman.

  * * *

  Seemed Lily was not the only female who thought I might open up to her. At school, the Head sat me down. At first, I thought she wanted to know how I was coping with my sister’s death. By the end of our interview or ‘chat’, as she no doubt wanted me to think it was, from the questions she was asking I was pretty sure that my grandmother had been to see her – asking how often I saw Gran certainly gave me a clue. I guess she had told the Head that for reasons of his own, Carl was cutting everyone he could out of our lives.

  Not that the Head was that straight with me. Instead, she asked how my mother was coping with the death of my sister.

  ‘She’s very quiet,’ I told her, ‘and very tearful all the time.’

  ‘It must be a sad time for all of you, Emily,’ she said, fiddling with her pen. ‘And your stepfather?’

  ‘Well, he’s sad too.’

  ‘Emily, I’m sorry, I should have asked how you are dealing with your loss and what it’s like for you at home now.’

  A difficult one, that.

  I suddenly realised that I was not only twisting my hair, but sucking on my tongue as well – something I always did when stressed. Words had completely deserted me and I felt tears forming in my eyes.

  Don’t put your arm round me, I begged silently as I saw her move towards me – I would not be able to stop the sobs then. Instead, she just handed me a tissue.

  ‘Emily, is there something you want to tell me? You know, anything said to me in here stays within these walls.’

  Be careful, muttered Fear, tell her you’re just sad about your siste
r dying.

  So that’s what I did. Not that I think for one moment she believed that was the only thing that was affecting me.

  ‘I would like to talk to your mother,’ she told me when she saw that I had totally clammed up.

  ‘Why?’ I asked, panic rising.

  ‘Oh, nothing for you to bother about, just a routine parent-and-teacher chat.’

  ‘She doesn’t answer the phone,’ I told her, but when I saw the concerned expression on her face, I wished I hadn’t said that.

  ‘If I give you the time I will ring, will you tell her? Just say it’s nothing urgent and it will only take a few minutes.’

  I agreed, though I felt as if a heavy stone had taken root in my stomach. Mum was bound to think the worst, that I had told my headmistress something. Or, and another worry crept into my head, maybe it was my school marks she wanted to talk about. Either of those would result in me being punished. But I had no choice, did I? If I didn’t pass the message along, the Head would ring anyhow and if she didn’t receive an answer, she would no doubt write to her.

  * * *

  Once I got home, I saw to my dismay that Carl was already there. I had no way of giving my mother the message without him overhearing it.

  ‘What does she want?’ Carl asked impatiently when I told Mum the Head would be calling at five o’clock.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, that’s no surprise, is it? You never know anything,’ he said cuttingly.

  ‘She must have told you something,’ Mum said, shooting me a worried glance.

  Before I could say that she hadn’t, the phone rang.

  ‘You take it, Carl.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid, Betty! It’s you she wants to talk to.’