Damaged, A Baby’s Cry and The Night the Angels Came 3-in-1 Collection. Cathy Glass
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his ankles?’
‘Yes.’
‘I understand. Pull your jeans up again, good girl.’ I helped her to do up the button, and settled her beside me on the sofa.
‘Was Daddy naughty, Cathy?’ she asked. Her brow creased as she thought about this.
‘Yes he was, Jodie. Very naughty.’ I’m not supposed to make value judgements about the parents, but there was no question in my mind that Jodie had to know immediately that this was very wrong and that she was in no way to blame.
‘Naughty Daddy,’ she said, and thumped her fist hard on her knee. ‘He hurt me. I want to hurt him. See how he likes it.’
I put my arm around her, and drew her to me. I wished I had it in my power to draw out her hurt and heal her. ‘It’s all right, Jodie. You’re safe with me now. It won’t happen again, I promise.’
‘OK, Cathy,’ she said, far too easily appeased. I knew that this placid acceptance and lack of emotion meant that we had come nowhere near the heart of her suffering.
‘Jodie, you said just now he hurt you. Can you tell me how?’ It was a dreadful question, but I knew it was one she would be asked later by the Child Protection Officer, and it was important to get her initial answer on record.
‘He made my tummy sore, here.’ She pushed her hand between the top of her legs. ‘And he wet himself and it tasted horrible.’
‘Tasted? Did he put something in your mouth?’
She screwed up her face and made a spitting motion. ‘When we was in the car, he weed in my mouth.’
I turned away to hide my reaction. I was burning with anger and humiliation, the humiliation which Jodie should have felt, but didn’t. I wasn’t about to tell her it wasn’t wee. There was no point, and the naïve terminology, using the only point of reference she had, not only made it all the more pitiful, but also underlined its authenticity. I had no doubt she was telling the truth.
I turned to look at her again. ‘One last thing, Jodie, I need to know. Did this happen once or lots of times?’
‘Lots, Cathy. Naughty Daddy. Cathy, why are you crying?’
I couldn’t help myself any longer. I was weeping. ‘Because I’ve heard something sad, sweet.’
‘Why is it sad?’
The fact that she didn’t understand the horrendous nature of what had happened to her made it even worse. ‘Because this is a very bad thing, Jodie, and it should never happen to anybody.’
‘Yes. Naughty Daddy,’ she said again. ‘Can I have my lunch now?’
Iconsidered cancelling the tutor, but she was probably already on her way. Besides, Jodie was looking forward to seeing her, and I needed the time to phone Jill and tell her what had happened, without being overheard.
My mind was reeling from the disclosures. I couldn’t help replaying them over and over in my mind, hearing and seeing the awful truth as portrayed through the words and actions of an innocent eight-year-old girl. It was hard to get the frightful images she’d evoked out of my mind, and as I went about the homely, normal actions of making lunch the horror of what I had just learned overlaid everything I did. It felt as though an awful poison had been released into the atmosphere, and I couldn’t shake the sense of dread and revulsion that engulfed me.
Jodie, on the other hand, seemed to have recovered quickly, and devoured her sandwiches, crisps and yoghurt, then asked for more.
‘You’ve had enough,’ I said, ignoring the protests that followed.
In the conservatory, I cleared the small table that would act as a desk, and laid out some paper and pencils ready for Nicola’s arrival. Jodie followed me round, excited at the prospect of seeing her tutor again. When the doorbell rang she flew to answer it, but then remembered my warning, and waited for me to join her.
‘Good girl,’ I said, and she gave me a hug.
I’d met Nicola briefly at the pre-placement meeting, and I’d been immediately impressed. Her calm, firm approach was exactly what Jodie needed. Jodie clearly shared my enthusiasm, as she greeted Nicola like a long-lost friend. Nicola seemed pleased to see her too, and she chatted pleasantly to Jodie as she took off her coat and gathered her things together.
We went through to the conservatory, where Jodie clambered into her seat, and started scribbling furiously on the paper I’d laid out. In a good impersonation of Mary Poppins, Nicola delved into her large upholstered bag, and brought out a huge assortment of workbooks, sheets and brightly coloured teaching aids. Jodie was mesmerized.
‘We’ll get started now,’ Nicola said efficiently. ‘I usually take a break halfway through. Perhaps we could discuss her progress then?’
‘That’s fine. I’ll bring some drinks and snacks for half time.’ I checked she had all she needed, then left them to it, grateful to have been relieved of the responsibility, if only for a couple of hours. Upstairs, I closed my bedroom door so I wouldn’t be overheard, then perched on the bed with the phone at my side. I ran through what I was going to say. I hadn’t had time to write up my log notes yet, but it was all still clear in my head, and depressingly vivid. I keyed in the numbers, and the secretary answered.
‘Jill, please. It’s Cathy.’
‘I’ll put you through.’
A click, then Jill’s voice. ‘Hello Cathy, is everything all right?’
‘No. It’s not. Jodie’s been sexually abused. I’m sure of it. She couldn’t make up this lot.’ I quickly ran through the disclosures, explaining how Jodie had used the doll to tell me, and repeating what she’d said almost word for word.
Jill was silent for a second, and then asked, ‘How are you, Cathy? No one had any idea.’
No idea? Knowing what I now knew, it was hard to believe that no one could have guessed what was going on – but I had to give the Social Services the benefit of the doubt. Obviously if anyone had suspected what was happening, Jodie would have been removed earlier. But how could they have missed all the signs, and for so long? Perhaps they’d focused on the obvious physical abuse of knocks and burns and broken bones, rather than a deeper and more vicious evil.
Now that I didn’t have to control my emotions in front of Jodie, I could feel the shock and upset welling up in me. My eyes pricked and my vision blurred as hot tears filled them. I felt such an awful mixture of impotent fury and utter sadness on Jodie’s behalf. Nevertheless, I couldn’t let myself fall to pieces. I had to be strong, for Jodie’s sake. I took a deep breath. ‘I’m upset, obviously. But at least it’s out in the open. And it does explain why she’s so disturbed. In fact, it explains a lot of things – it’s no wonder she wants to hurt herself and has shut herself off from the world. And, Jill, it sounds like it’s been going on for years. She was quite matter-of-fact in the way she described it, as if it was normal.’
There was another pause. I knew Jill was affected by what I had told her. Revelations of sexual abuse are something that anyone in children’s social work will encounter, but they never lose their power to shock and horrify, and Jodie’s story was particularly appalling. The idea that a small child could have been undergoing this kind of ordeal over a period of years was almost too awful to contemplate.
After a moment’s silence, Jill swung into action. ‘Right, I’ll contact Eileen as soon as we’ve finished. We’ll have to look at contact ASAP. I’ll need your notes. Can you write them up while the tutor’s there and email me over a copy?’
‘I’ll do my best.’
‘Jodie obviously trusts you, Cathy, more than she’s