Chapter 18

Dave had spoken to Alex in the local pub and was told to pass on a message to me that Molly and Kassie were going to visit dad for the weekend. I hadn’t seen them for years. In fact I hadn’t seen any of the kids. I often thought about them and wondered what they were doing and if they were okay. I often wondered if Molly still had to visit Uncle Joe.

I didn’t want Maggie to know that I had every intention of seeing them, so I got Dave to arrange through Alex a place to meet. Will I recognise them? What will I say? The thought of seeing them made me feel sick with nerves. It brought a lot of memories back to the forefront of my mind. I thought I had locked some of those scenes away for good. Part of me didn’t want to see any of them ever again, the memories far too painful. I could still smell Sue’s crotch and feel the panic of not being able to breathe. It seemed like only yesterday.

We met at the park near dad’s house and I recognised Molly straight away. She was growing up so fast. Who am I kidding? She’s the same age as me. Molly ran up to me, hugging me like there was no tomorrow. I didn’t think she would ever stop. I looked around nervously to see if anyone saw this outward display of affection. She appeared so ill and thin. It looked like she needed a hot dinner or two. Her eyes were dark underneath, and I could see the pain in her eyes. She smiled, beaming, like she was so pleased to see me. She was maybe two inches taller and a lot skinnier than me. She had short, mousy brown hair and she was quite flat-chested. I was proud of my boobs. They got me a lot of attention. She wasn’t pretty at all, her teeth never did get fixed. They were pushing in all directions and I felt sorry for her. Image meant a lot to me and I could see she had no sense of self worth. But then even if she had, it wouldn’t have done her any good, mum would never have helped or encouraged her to look pretty.

Alex took Kassie over to the swings and Molly and I wandered off and sat on the football field. For a while we sat there in silence, just looking at Alex playing with Kassie. I guess neither of us knew what to say. Rabbits were running around at the edge of the park, hopping in and around the new flowers and over small logs in spring play. If only life was that easy and fun, I thought to myself.

“Have you told anyone?” Molly looked me straight in the eye.

Oh my god! Do my eyes tell the story like hers? Do I look in that much pain?

“No,” I said quietly. “No, I haven’t told a soul and I don’t have any intentions of doing so either. Let’s face it, who would believe us anyway?”

“It’s our secret, then, no matter what happens.” We agreed linking our little fingers together and shaking them up and down in a pinkie promise. It was a pact. We swore that no one would ever know.

We both had seen cases on TV, court cases on the news of people who were paedophiles. We had seen the news of children being abused, of people going to prison. I think Child Line had just been launched, but we agreed we just couldn’t take the chance. No one ever believed me about anything else, so I just couldn’t risk it.

In a way I still blamed my family for making me believe I was such a liar and that nothing I said would ever be taken seriously. If I had been given a little support, I might have found the strength to tell, to help prevent those people doing it again.

For what seemed like hours we sat there talking. Molly seemed almost empty and spoke about things like they were still happening. She assured me it wasn’t that bad anymore and hadn’t been for years, after dad took us away.

“Mum has changed,” she said. She never hits Kassie, but she still beats the older ones. Molly told me of the times mum would smash her head off the wall, and how she got pregnant.

Mum had apparently thrown a party for her 14^th birthday and had insisted on making her drink alcohol. Mum found it highly amusing watching her stagger around drunk. Molly said she couldn’t remember much, just feeling sick and sorry for herself, but when she woke up the following morning she discovered a strange guy in her bed. She explained how she lay there knowing that mum had set her up to get drunk so she would have sex with this guy. She said she hadn’t seen him since.

She had been late for her period. Mum took her to a clinic and forced her to have an abortion, bullying her as usual by saying if anyone ever found out she would be labelled a “slag” for the rest of her life.

“I’ll never forgive her for that,” Molly said.

“There’s a lot more than that, not to forgive her for,” I said. I urged her to remember, raising my eyebrows in sarcasm so she would know I was referring to the bad stuff.

It’s amazing what you can get used to, I thought. But, yes, you can get used to violence and sexual abuse. I was about 13 when I realised that it was all so wrong. Looking at Molly I thought, My stepmother sold our little bodies to the highest bidder. We were used as prostitutes to earn her money, whilst we posed for child pornography and stuff for Uncle Joe. How could any human being do that to a child?

Molly told me how Uncle Joe suddenly stopped coming round, how the neighbours started standing up for them arguing with mum about how she treated her kids. They told her they would be watching and that’s when Uncle Joe started staying away. But Molly still visited him sometimes, mainly to do photo stuff for other men and to earn a bit of money. Even after that he would still grope her privates or make her suck his dick. The really painful stuff stopped after I left.

Did I cause it then? I wondered. I must have surely if it stopped after I left? Well that’s what I thought for many years, but how could a nine-year-old be responsible?

I looked over at Kassie.

“Mum never touches her,” Molly said with anger and jealousy in her voice, nodding towards Kassie. “What is so special about her?”

I could hear the bitterness in her voice. I looked at Kassie wondering what was so special. She wasn’t pretty. In fact she was quite unattractive. She had a large frame and tried hard to be noticed, being very loud in everything she did. I really didn’t know what to say to her. After all I didn’t know her. Molly was the only one who wanted to come and visit dad. The others didn’t want to. Molly said they were still angry that dad had left and didn’t really want anything to do with him.

Fair enough, I thought. I wonder how much mum soured their feelings. I didn’t suppose I could blame them really. Dad had only taken me and Alex and failed to rescue them from that witch.

“How was the chocolate Yule log?” I asked and laughed at Molly. It broke the ice as she remembered when we made it at school. I told her I was gutted I had to leave it with her and not tasting it has scarred me for life. We both laughed out loud. Mum wouldn’t let us take enough ingredients for two so we had to share and make one together.

“It was very nice what we got to have of it,” she chuckled.

Molly seemed distant. It was almost like she had a mental impairment. I had to drag a conversation out of her. She was a closed book. I was sad when I had to go because I knew there was no one to protect her. She was so weak and vulnerable and I knew I couldn’t be there for her. We promised we would be back together one day, maybe share a flat or something, anything, to get her away from mum.