Sadie

The weather had turned. It was still warm, but the dry summer had become wet and the day was punctuated with thunderous showers. The rain started as soon as the school bell went for home time and was torrential on the way home, so Sadie, Anna and Carly barely spoke and concentrated on running back to the estate and its rain-stained concrete as quickly as possible.

Soaked to the skin, Sadie sprinted up the pathway to the front door. Her key was already in her hand– it had been in readiness ever since she entered the boundaries of the estate – and almost on autopilot she tried to open the front door with it. The key slid easily into the lock, but when she tried to turn it, it wouldn’t budge. She tried again, wiggling the key gently at first and then with more force, but it was no good. She rang the bell instead.

The door opened almost immediately. Allen stood in the doorway and observed Sadie as though she was a stranger or a cold caller. After an awkward few moments, during which he did not step aside to let her in, Sadie was forced to speak.

‘Can I come in?’

Suddenly Allen looked as though his attention had been snapped into focus. His lips flickered into a smile, and he stepped aside slightly, though not quite enough for Sadie to be able to enter without her sopping clothes brushing against him.

‘My key wouldn’t work,’ she mumbled as she entered.

‘No,’ said Allen. ‘It wouldn’t.’

‘Why not? It’s always worked.’

‘I’ve changed the lock,’ Allen said as he walked back into the kitchen. Sadie stayed in the hallway, watching him.

‘What for?’ she asked, but Allen didn’t reply, instead walking into the sitting room. Sadie followed him, water dripping off her coat on to the kitchen floor. ‘What did you change the lock for?’ she asked again. She knew she sounded insolent, but she couldn’t help it.

By now Allen was sitting on the settee again, his legs stretched out in his usual position. ‘You’re too young to have your own door key. I’ve discussed it with your mam and she agrees with me.’

Sadie could hardly believe what she was hearing and found herself unable to speak. She’d had her own key for years – Mum and Dad had trusted her, and she’d never done anything to betray that trust. Tears started to brim in her eyes.

‘No use crying about it. It’s about time we knew where you are and when you’re coming back. I know for a fact that you get up to no good when you’re out on your own. I haven’t told your mother what I suspect yet, but if it carries on, I will – don’t you worry about that.’

Sadie was shivering now, half from the wet clothes, half from the way he was speaking to her. Unable to trust herself to open her mouth, she spun round and ran, not for the first time since Allen had arrived, up to her bedroom. Outside the rain continued to hammer on her window and the sky was a deep, felt-tip grey. She slammed the door shut and started to peel off her sopping school uniform. She felt her long wet hair cold against her face.

As the clothes fell to the floor, she froze. She could hear Allen moving around downstairs, his footsteps sounding heavy and impatient. And then she heard a sound she recognized – a click. It was the front door being locked.

A sudden panic arose in her. She held her breath and remained deathly still as she listened with all her concentration. At first there was silence; then there was an unmistakable sound.

It was the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.

Feeling an irrational burst of terror, Sadie jumped on to her bed. Goosebumps arose on her skin as she crouched in the corner, hugging her knees, wanting to remove her wet underwear and yet somehow not wanting to. As she did so, she counted the footsteps up the stairs.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

And then they stopped – about halfway up, Sadie calculated. For a few moments there was silence and then, more quietly this time, the footsteps disappeared back down the stairs.

Sadie did not move until she was sure that Allen had finished walking around. Instead, she remained on her bed, her skin clammy and her limbs shaking, the sickness of fear suddenly replaced with the hot flush of relief.

After a few minutes, she dared to creep on to the landing. Standing at the top of the stairs, she strained her ears and could make out the low hubbub of the television. By now she knew his habits. She knew that once he was installed in front of the box, he would not move from it willingly, so she crept back to her room, removed the rest of her clothes and put on the blue dressing gown that hung on the back of her door. Then she crept back on to the bed.

How she wished her mum were there. How she wished she could wordlessly snuggle up to her, feel her arms around her shoulders and put her head in her lap. She wished now she hadn’t been so mean before she left for school. When she saw her, she would be really nice. She would make things better between them. Jackie might have been different these past few weeks, but she was still her mum, and Sadie wanted her. It all seemed wrong, being stuck in the house with this man she hardly knew and liked even less – a cruel inversion of the way things were supposed to be.

The rain continued to pound on the window. For a precious minute or two, Sadie allowed herself to be transfixed by the droplets falling like tears down the windowpane.

Unbidden, the image of little Jamie Brown popped into her head. She suppressed a shudder as she remembered the bruising up his arm and wondered, not for the first time, what sort of hell he had to endure when he was at home. All of a sudden she felt slightly ashamed of herself. The little boy who had taken to following her around the playground at breaktime surely had to endure more than she did: Allen might be mean, but at least he never hit her.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she was selfish. Maybe this whole situation was her fault.

How long Sadie sat there, huddled in her dressing gown, she couldn’t say; but she was snapped out of her daydream by the sound of Allen’s voice: he was calling from the bottom of the stairs, ‘Your tea’s ready, Sadie.’

Sadie blinked. He never made her tea; it was normally up to Jackie or Sadie herself to prepare meals for all of them. She felt like calling down to say she wasn’t hungry, but something told her that would not be a wise thing to do, so she quickly pulled on her pink tracksuit and went downstairs. A plate of spaghetti hoops on toast was waiting for her on the kitchen table, with a glass of water.

Silently she sat down and started to eat. The food was only lukewarm, and she barely had an appetite, but she knew that if she didn’t eat it would only cause aggro, so she soldiered on, aware of Allen’s gaze on her all the time.

‘You don’t say much, do you, Sadie?’ he asked after a while.

Sadie chewed her food and didn’t reply.

‘You like spaghetti?’ Allen tried again.

‘’S’all right,’ Sadie said, her mouth still half full.

‘Me too. Mind if I have a bit of yours?’

Sadie did mind, but she knew she couldn’t say so, so she shrugged and watched as Allen stood up and fetched himself a fork from a drawer. He walked back to the table, put his left hand on Sadie’s left shoulder, and then leaned over the other one and lifted a forkful of food into his mouth. Sadie felt her muscles seizing up and she stared intently at the plate in front of her. Allen’s hand remained lightly on her shoulder. When he had finished his mouthful, he helped himself to a second, gave her a little squeeze and went to wash up his fork.

Sadie started eating more quickly. As she heard Allen put his fork by the sink, somehow she could tell that he was looking at her from behind. The moment she had wolfed down her last mouthful, she scraped back her chair and picked up her dirty plate. Allen was leaning against the sink, a strange smile on his face.

‘Excuse me,’ Sadie muttered. ‘I have to wash up.’

With a nod, Allen cleared out of the way and wandered back into the sitting room.

Sadie washed up quickly, and hurried upstairs.

She felt a chill. It was not particularly cold in the house, but she had got soaked earlier on, so maybe that was why. She felt like having a bath, hot and soapy, to warm her up and wash away the uncomfortable feeling Allen had just left her with. Then she would go to bed – early. Changing back into her dressing gown, she took the towel that was hanging on the end of her bed and went into the bathroom.

Immediately she noticed that the sliding lock that had been there ever since she could remember was not there. All that remained were four screw holes and a patch of unpainted wood where the lock used to be. Sadie stared at the door, puzzled: why would anyone take the lock off the door? Admittedly it had always been a little stiff, but it had never been a problem – although she knew Allen never locked the door behind him when he used the bathroom. Looking around her, her eyes fell on the dirty-washing basket that was always kept by the sink. She dragged it across the floor and propped it against the door – at least that would make it clear that someone was in there. She turned the taps on and the sound of running water filled the room.

When the bubble bath that she had poured into the hot water had transformed itself into huge snowy peaks, Sadie let her dressing gown fall to the floor and climbed in. The hot water stung her skin, but she liked it – it felt as if it was cleansing her all the more thoroughly. Slowly she allowed herself to sink beneath the suds and stretch out, closing her eyes to block out the harsh glare of the plastic strip lighting on the ceiling. She slipped gently further down into the water, allowing her head to become half submerged and her long, dark hair to splay out. She loved the feeling of being under water, and the way all the sounds became muted and muffled; she felt as if she was in her own little world, away from it all. She started drumming her fingernails against the bottom of the bath, and focused on that regular, rhythmic, under-water sound.

But then she heard something else. A voice. It could only be one person’s.

Spluttering, she pushed herself up from under the water and wiped the suds from around her eyes. Her pulse was suddenly racing, her breathing heavy, but she was relieved to see nobody in the bathroom. Perhaps she had imagined it. She sat still in the bath.

Suddenly, the dirty-washing basket in front of the door nudged forward a couple of inches as the door was pushed ajar. It nudged forward again. She could see Allen’s fingers curled round the edge of the door. ‘Let us in,’ he said, his voice echoing slightly against the yellowing tiles of the bathroom. ‘Let us in to use the toilet. I’m desperate.’

Sadie found that her breath was shaking, and all of a sudden something snapped in her as she started to scream. ‘Get out!’ she yelled. ‘Get out! Get away from me!’ Her screams degenerated into a whimper. ‘Get out!’ she repeated, her wet hands covering her wet face.

When she looked up again, Allen’s fingertips were no longer round the door; but she had not heard him walk away, so she could not tell whether or not he was waiting for her on the other side. For an unrealistic moment she considered staying where she was, safe under the water, until her mum came back. But of course that would not be for hours: she had to get out.

Still catching her breath through sobs that escaped involuntarily through her throat, she stood up in the bath and, her hands covering herself to afford her some sort of modesty, stepped over the side. She grabbed her dressing gown and tried to pull it quickly over her wet skin, but her fingers were fumbling and the more she tried to hurry, the slower she seemed to go. Eventually she had herself covered, and she wrapped her towel around her shoulders to give her extra protection. She wanted to be in her bedroom. Now. So she pulled the dirty-washing basket away from the door and, with a deep, shaky breath, stepped out on to the landing.

Allen was there.

He was standing at the other end of the landing, at the top of the stairs. His head was bowed slightly, but his eyes were looking straight at Sadie and his breathing was heavy. His lips seemed stuck in a position that was almost a sneer, but not quite. For an instant he looked away from her, but then he blinked again and his eyes were on her once more. She found herself unable to move.

When he spoke, his voice was even quieter than usual. ‘I thought you said come in.’

Sadie shook her head faintly.

‘I thought you were done in there,’ Allen repeated. ‘I thought you said come in.’

‘I didn’t say anything,’ Sadie whispered hoarsely. She returned his gaze as coolly as she dared.

All of a sudden, Allen lashed out. He banged the flat of his hand hard against the woodchip wall, and Sadie jumped. In an instant his face had transformed. His eyes were flashing and his lip curled into an ugly mockery of the expression Sadie was used to. And then he was shouting – not particularly loudly, but forcefully, and with unbridled contempt. ‘I was calling you for ages. You should have shouted back.’

His hands appeared to be shaking, and Sadie took a frightened step backwards into the doorway of the bathroom.

‘Anyhow,’ he hissed, more quietly now, ‘what makes you think I want to see you in the first place? You’re too fucking cocky, Sadie. You’re lucky I don’t see to it that you go into a home.’

Sadie felt her lower lip wobbling. She watched, wide-eyed, as Allen struggled to control his sudden burst of fury. With a hateful look, he turned and stomped down the stairs. As though his disappearance had released her from a lock and chain, Sadie rushed into her bedroom.

Dusk was falling, as was the rain, though less heavily now, and her room seemed saturated with gloom. Sadie did not want to turn on the light, feeling that the half-darkness somehow protected her. She quickly dried herself, pulled on her nightdress and buried herself under her bedclothes, clutching a soft teddy bear her dad had bought her many years ago. She breathed in its smell. Normally it was so comforting, but tonight for some reason it just made the tears come, and it didn’t take long for the bear’s matted hair to become quite wet. And even when she could cry no more, she remained under the covers, curled up and clinging desperately to the soft toy which could not offer her the comfort that she craved.

It was fully dark outside by the time she dared to poke her head out from under the duvet. Late, though sleep seemed only a distant possibility. Slowly, tentatively, she put her head on the pillow and closed her eyes.

Time passed.

After a while, a warm blanket of drowsiness fell over Sadie; but it was ruffled before she could truly fall asleep by the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs once more. They were not heavy footsteps this time, but her eyes sprang suddenly open when she realized they were approaching her door. And then came the sound she dreaded.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

She said nothing – she knew there was no point. She heard the sound of the door brushing against the carpet as it swung open, and she closed her eyes, lying desperately still and pretending to be asleep. Despite not being able to see anything, she could sense Allen walking across the room to her bed. He sat on the side of it, and the sickening smell of his aftershave filled her nose.

Then, with a start, she felt him brushing his hand across her hair.

‘I know you’re not asleep, Sadie,’ he whispered.

Sadie wanted to jump out of bed and scream, but some unseen force pinned her to the mattress and she kept her eyes resolutely closed. The stroking of her hair stopped, and suddenly she felt Allen’s warm breath near her face. It smelled of the tinned spaghetti from earlier.

‘Goodnight, pet,’ he breathed, before planting a kiss on her closed mouth, leaving a vile feeling of the wetness of his lips.

Then he stood up and walked out, leaving Sadie alone in the darkness of her room.

She awoke with a start.

It was pitch black in her room, and she had no idea what time it was. In the darkness, however, she heard the front door closing and assumed that it must be her mum coming back from work. That would make it a bit past midnight; she could only have been asleep for an hour or two. The rain had stopped now, and she could quite clearly hear her mum shout ‘I’m back’ before moving through to the sitting room and out of earshot. Sadie wanted more than anything to go down and see her – to hug her – but she couldn’t bear to be in the same room as Allen.

So she just lay there, protected by her duvet and the darkness of the night.

All of a sudden she heard voices from downstairs. Raised voices. Allen was shouting at her mum. Sadie couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she could detect the fury in his voice. Her mum said something – or shouted it, rather – but it was short-lived. There was an immediate and ominous silence; Sadie found herself holding her breath. The silence was broken by the sound of footsteps up the stairs – running, this time, and Sadie recognized the rhythm of her mother’s steps. She sat up in bed, hoping that Jackie would come into her room to say goodnight; but she was disappointed: all she heard was Jackie’s own bedroom door slamming shut.

Something told her that she shouldn’t go in to see her. She lay back down in bed and, despite the turmoil in her mind, soon fell asleep.

If Allen came up to bed that night, Sadie was not awake to hear it.

Chapter Five

The next day dawned bright and clear, but Jamie Brown had been awake long before the sun rose.

It was his birthday the following day, and last night he had gone to sleep cosseted by pleasant fantasies of a birthday present, and even a chocolate cake with candles. He had never had either, of course, but that didn’t stop him from hoping each time his birthday came around. Maybe Mum would have had a change of heart this year; maybe there would be a bit of spare money; just maybe he would have a happy day.

But the maybes had dissolved from his mind a little before dawn when he awoke with the familiar feeling of horror. The thin mattress which lay on the floor of the tiny box room he called his own was wet, and so was the stained sheet that covered him. He didn’t dare move for fear of waking his mother up; all he could do was hope that it dried before morning. But morning had come, and the bedding was still damp. The little boy shivered, not just because he was cold.

Perhaps he could hide what had happened. Perhaps if he got up now and pulled the frayed blanket over his sheet, she wouldn’t notice. He quietly slipped out of bed, removed his damp pyjamas and put them under the pillow; then he put on the underwear he had been wearing for the past week. He crept out of his bedroom and into the bathroom. It was filthy, as it always was. The taps to the bath were broken, and he wasn’t allowed to use the shower unless Mum said so; instead, he took his flannel, which had fallen down beside the toilet and become encrusted hard, and soaked it under cold running water. He squeezed it and rubbed it over his skin, taking care not to press too hard where the bruises were. When he had finished his ineffectual wash, he moistened his toothbrush under the running water. The bristles were worn and flattened, and the handle stained with lime scale; there was, of course, no toothpaste, but he brushed nevertheless, pressing so hard that his gums started to hurt. He placed the toothbrush back on the side of the sink, and then turned round and left the room.

His heart jumped.

Standing in the doorway of his room was his mum. She had a cigarette in one hand and his damp pyjamas in the other.

Jamie cowered, shrinking against the wall under the withering heat of her gaze.

‘What the fuck is this?’ she asked, her voice deathly quiet.

Jamie was too terrified to speak.

‘Don’t fucking ignore me, Jamie. What the fuck is this?’

‘I’m s-s-sorry, Mum,’ Jamie stammered. ‘I think I wet myself.’

His mum hurled the wet pyjamas at his head. ‘I can fucking see that!’ she screamed.

Jamie struggled to remove the clothes from around his eyes. As he did so he saw his mum bearing down on him. Instantly he crumpled to the floor, rolling up in a little ball like the hedgehog he had seen in a book at school. ‘Please don’t hit me, Mum,’ he whimpered, but it was too late. As he spoke he felt her bare foot against his abdomen. The thought flashed through his head that at least she wasn’t wearing shoes; but he still felt a shriek of pain as she kicked him on the bruises from his last beating. He found himself gasping as his mother shouted at him again.

‘It’s no fuckin’ wonder everyone hates you. I fucking hate you, and I’m your mum, more fool me.’ She stomped back into her bedroom, but the shouting continued. ‘Now fuck off to school. I’m sick of the fucking sight of you …’

The blue sky made yesterday’s rain seem like a weird dream; indeed, to Sadie, everything about the previous evening had a nightmare quality about it, almost as though none of it had happened. As she walked sleepily to the bathroom, however, she was reminded of it all: the bath water was still there, as she had been in too much of a hurry to get to her bedroom to pull the plug out. It seemed that nobody had been into the bathroom since; or if they had, they wanted to make a point. She removed the plug, and as the water drained out of the bath she cleaned her teeth and washed her face. Then she returned to her bedroom to get dressed.

It was quiet in the house, for which Sadie was extremely thankful. If she crept downstairs, maybe she could get her cereal and leave the house without anyone waking up. She tiptoed down, avoiding those parts of the staircase that she knew were creaky, and made her way into the kitchen, where she poured herself a bowl of cornflakes. There was only a drop of milk left, so she doused the cereal with what there was before turning to sit at the kitchen table.

She stopped in her tracks.

Allen was sitting at the head of the table, with his chair turned ninety degrees so that he could face her. He had been so quiet, so immobile, that she hadn’t seen him until now. His face was blank, but he looked tired, and he was wearing the same clothes that he had been wearing the previous night.

‘Good morning,’ he said.

Sadie walked brusquely to the other end of the table, where she sat down and started to eat with big mouthfuls; but the faster she tried to eat, the more the cereal stuck in her throat.

‘Aren’t you talking to me, Sadie?’ Allen asked.

Sadie swallowed her mouthful. ‘Where’s Mum?’ she asked.

‘Don’t worry about your mam,’ Allen told her. ‘She’s still in bed. Tired. She needs her sleep, now she’s working and all.’

‘I want to say goodbye before I leave for school.’

‘I told you, she’s tired.’ He stood up, and walked over to where Sadie was sitting. The girl put her hands on her lap and looked down at the now empty cereal bowl. He was standing too close now, invading her personal space. He lifted his hand and made as if to put it on her shoulder, but Sadie shrank from him and instead he picked up the bowl. ‘Off you go, then,’ Allen said. ‘I’ll wash this up for you.’

Sadie watched as he took the bowl to the sink and stood there, running the water, resolutely not looking back. As quickly as she could, she got her things together and left.

‘Miss Venables, you are not this school’s child protection officer. I can assure you that we are fully aware of the concerns about Jamie Brown, and they’re being dealt with through the proper channels.’

‘But Mr Martin,’ Stacy said, her frustration with the headmaster taking the edge off her politeness, ‘social services aren’t doing a thing.’

‘They’re monitoring the situation,’ the headmaster said emphatically, as though speaking to a child. ‘They can’t just storm in and remove the child from his mother – there’s no evidence of maltreatment, there’s been no disclosure from the child.’