Читать книгу Mummy’s Little Girl: A heart-rending story of abuse, innocence and the desperate race to save a lost child - Jane Elliott - Страница 8

Chapter Two

The following morning was Sunday, and everything was unusually quiet in the house.

Dani woke with a throbbing pain on the side of her face. In her chest of drawers was a hand mirror. She took it out and had a look at herself. The bruising was a mottled purple-black. It surrounded her left eye and went down the side of her face. Gently she touched her skin with her fingertips and winced. It was terribly sore, even to the lightest touch. Her arm was sore too, where Mum had grabbed it to drag her into the room. Dani peeled away the material of her nightie and saw bruising there too.

She gazed at herself in the mirror for what seemed like an age before mustering the courage to go downstairs.

James and Rebecca were already there, watching television in the front room. They knew not to have it on too loud in case it woke Mum up. As Dani appeared in the door, they both turned to look at her.

Their stares said it all.

‘You all right?’ James said in a small voice.

Dani nodded, and gave the boy a little smile. He looked frightened, and she didn’t want him to be. Then she turned to Rebecca.

‘I never broke your toy,’ she said, doing her best not to let herself cry.

Rebecca didn’t reply. Her lips went a little bit thin, her eyes narrowed and she turned resolutely back to the television, as if she was doing her best to pretend Dani wasn’t even there.

Dani left them to it and went to the kitchen.

The place was a mess. There were two empty bottles of wine on the side, and an overflowing ashtray that smelled so bad it made Dani want to be sick. Dani took the cardboard wrappers from the microwave meals Mum and Auntie Rose had obviously had for their dinner and tried to put them in the bin; but it was full to overflowing, and she couldn’t get them in, even by pushing the other rubbish down hard. So she left it where it was, her attempt to stop her mum being even more angry with her ending before it had really begun, and went back up to her bedroom.

It was at least an hour before she heard her mum getting up. Dani didn’t know whether she was scared that she might come into her room, or whether she hoped she would. Either way, it didn’t matter. She listened to the sound of her getting ready in the bathroom and stomping down the stairs. Minutes later the front door slammed shut.

By lunchtime she hadn’t returned, so Dani made sandwiches for them all. James and Rebecca seemed unable to look at her bruised face as she handed them over, and she took her own lunch up to her room and ate it there.

All afternoon, Dani stayed in her room, occasionally looking at herself in the mirror. Mum didn’t return until evening. She didn’t come and see Dani, who went without any dinner and spent a broken, fitful night worrying about what people would say when they saw her at school the next day.

Miss Sawyer was late, and she broke her own rule by running down the corridor towards her classroom, her register and other school books clasped tightly to her chest. God only knows, she thought to herself, what bedlam the kids were creating. She knew from experience that the lesson would be a write-off – let them run riot in the first few minutes and they’d never calm down. What a way to start Monday morning!

She glanced at her watch. Five past nine. ‘Shit,’ she muttered, and she upped her pace slightly.

Gina Sawyer’s classroom was at the far corner of the school, so it took a while to get there. It was a big school, with a huge catchment area that covered some of the biggest, most sprawling estates in the area as well as more well-to-do parts of town. She had worked there getting on for ten years now, and although some days seemed like a struggle, she was honest enough with herself to admit that she thrived on it. That said, there was no doubt that things were getting tougher nowadays. Some of the kids they had to deal with barely seemed like kids at all: they were so full of anger, so well versed in the world of adults. More than once, children who Miss Sawyer knew when they were only small had been excluded for carrying knives; and she’d lost count of the number of teenage pregnancies she’d had to deal with in her additional role as child support officer. By rights she was an English teacher, but the truth was that the teaching bit of the job was something that she seldom got to do.

Miss Sawyer was out of breath as she turned into the corridor where her classroom was located, so she slowed her run down to a brisk walk. Just ahead of her, walking a good deal more slowly in the same direction, was a pupil. Miss Sawyer recognised her immediately, even from behind – recognised the long, black hair and the slightly battered book bag that was slung sloppily over her shoulder.

‘Come on, Dani,’ she said, doing her best to hide her breathlessness. ‘Chop chop. The bell went five minutes ago.’

Little Dani Sinclair was a funny one. Twelve years old, but to look at her you wouldn’t think she was more than nine or ten. The teacher supposed that the girl had a working vocabulary, but if she did then it was seldom given an outing. In all her years teaching she had never come across such a quiet child. Hardly surprising that she was often picked on, because she never fought back. She just wasn’t that kind of girl.

It had only been a few days earlier that a social worker had come into the school to talk about Dani. There had been reports, the woman had said, of the little girl starting fights. Had the social worker not been so earnest, Miss Sawyer would have found the idea almost comical. Dani Sinclair would no more be involved in that sort of thing than stand in the middle of the playground reciting Shakespeare. She had respectfully put the social worker’s mind at rest and promised she would keep a special eye on Dani.

The little girl stopped walking, and Miss Sawyer noticed from behind that she appeared to lower her head and move her hand up to the side of her face, as though hiding it.

‘Dani?’ she asked. ‘Are you all right? What’s the matter?’

The little girl didn’t answer.

Miss Sawyer took a couple of steps towards her; then she bent over so that she was more on Dani’s level and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. The girl immediately shrugged her away, suddenly, as though she had been burned. She walked towards the wall and kept her face covered.

‘Dani Sinclair,’ Miss Sawyer said a bit more sharply than she intended. ‘I really don’t think it’s at all appropriate for you to behave towards your teach—’

She stopped. The moment she had raised her voice, the little girl had seemed to jump. Her arm fell limply to her side and she slowly turned round and faced the teacher. It was that look that had stopped Miss Sawyer in her tracks.

One of Dani’s eyes was almost closed. The lids were swollen and black, and the bruising extended all the way down one side of her face. A twitch of embarrassment flickered over the side of her face that wasn’t bruised, and Miss Sawyer noticed that she avoided looking her teacher in the eye.

‘Oh my God,’ she whispered. ‘Dani, what happened to you?’

Dani’s face twitched again, but she didn’t say anything.

From down the corridor, Miss Sawyer became aware of the sound of her class, boisterous as she expected. She looked over in that direction, slightly panicking that if she didn’t go now and sort them out, they’d just go from bad to worse. But another quick look at Dani’s face reminded her that she had a more important duty now.

‘Come with me, Dani, love,’ she said, as kindly as she could. She offered the child her hand, but Dani declined to take it. She just followed slowly, her feet dragging, as Miss Sawyer led her to the office where she dealt with child protection issues.

It was a small office, cosy in its way. There was a wooden desk and a comfortable chair, which seemed to dwarf Dani as she sat in it.

‘Would you like a glass of orange, Dani?’ Miss Sawyer offered.

Dani shook her head.

‘What about a biscuit? I think I’ve got some chocolate ones somewhere.’

Another shake of the head.

‘OK,’ Miss Sawyer said quietly as she took her seat behind the desk. She couldn’t remember a pupil ever turning down drinks and biscuits during school hours, but then she had to remind herself that Dani had always been a bit more timid than most. ‘Now then, Dani, why don’t you tell me how you got the black eye?’

The child didn’t answer. She just looked down at the floor.

‘Dani, love, you won’t get into trouble for just telling me who it was. We can make sure it doesn’t happen again.’

‘No one did it,’ the girl replied quickly. She looked scared.

Miss Sawyer narrowed her eyes. ‘What do you mean, no one did it?’

Dani looked around the office, confusion in her face. ‘I mean – I mean … It was me.’

‘You?’

‘I got in a fight. On the way to school.’ Still she refused to catch Miss Sawyer’s eyes.

‘A fight? When?’

‘This morning.’

‘Who with?’

‘Some boys.’

‘Which boys, Dani? Why don’t you tell me?’

A look of desperate concentration passed across Dani’s bruised face, and she shook her head.

Miss Sawyer sighed. It was so often the way: kids getting beaten up and refusing to admit who it was. The unwritten code of silence was stronger in the school than she imagined it was in any prison. Even so, something wasn’t right. It took a while for bruises to come up like that. Whatever had happened to the little girl hadn’t happened just this morning.

‘Are you sure you’re telling the truth, Dani? You can tell me, you know. You won’t get in trouble.’

‘I am!’ The girl’s voice was uncharacteristically firm.

Miss Sawyer sighed. She knew there was more to this than met the eye, but what could she do? ‘All right, Dani,’ she said in a resigned tone of voice. ‘I can’t make you tell me. But if you decide you want to, you only have to say.’

Dani remained tight-lipped and looking at the floor.

‘In the meantime, I don’t think you need to be at school today. You wait here and I’ll call your mum. She can come and get you and take you home. You can stay there until your face gets better, if you like.’

As she spoke, Miss Sawyer saw something change in Dani’s expression. She almost looked as if she was about to say something, but the moment soon passed, and she went back to staring at the floor.

‘I’ll be back in a few minutes,’ Miss Sawyer said. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like some orange while you wait?’

‘What did you tell her?’

They were alone in the kitchen. Mum had arrived at school quickly with a dangerous kind of look in her face. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw the extent of the damage to her face: this was the first time she had looked at her foster daughter since the night it had happened, Dani having crept out of the house early for school that morning. She rushed Dani out of Miss Sawyer’s office, despite the fact that the teacher seemed to want to talk. They hadn’t spoken a word on the way home, Mum walking briskly and Dani struggling to keep up with her. Now she was looking accusingly down at her foster daughter, her eyes cold.

‘What the hell did you tell her?’

‘Nothing,’ Dani replied.

‘You just said you’d got in a fight?’

Dani nodded her head.

Mum seemed slightly mollified. ‘Good,’ she muttered. ‘She wouldn’t have believed you anyway.’ She sounded to Dani as if she was trying to persuade herself, but the little girl didn’t know why, because it was true. No one would ever believe her if she told them what really happened.

Mum turned away from her and took a packet of cigarettes from her bag. She lit one and sucked in deeply as the acrid smell hit Dani’s nose. She felt the familiar sensation of tears welling in her; she did her best to suppress it, but she never could. The others at school called her a cry baby, and they were right. She always seemed to be crying.

‘I didn’t break Rebecca’s toy,’ she whispered, her voice cracking.

It was as if something snapped in her mum. She turned round and there was a look in her eyes that terrified Dani to the very core. Her mum looked crazy. She stepped towards Dani, and as she did so she raised the hand that held her cigarette. As if by reflex, Dani cowered, falling to her knees and automatically raising her arms to cover the bruised side of her face as she waited for the blow. ‘Please don’t hit me,’ she cried.

But the blow didn’t come; instead, there was a torrent of words. ‘Just get out of my sight, Dani. You’re always causing trouble. You should count yourself lucky you don’t get punished more often. Go on, go to your room. I don’t want to see you any more. I’m sick and tired of having you under this roof. Sick and tired of it, you ungrateful little—’ And there her words deserted her.

Dani looked up to see that her mum had lowered her arm and was dragging again on the cigarette, fiercely, as though the smoke was the only thing that could stop her from going over the edge. In the sudden silence that followed the outburst, she could hear the ash crackling as a good third of the cigarette burned down in one puff. Dani knew when to take her chance. She stood up, steadied herself on legs that felt suddenly very weak and ran up the stairs to her bedroom.

Downstairs, she heard something crash, but she couldn’t tell what it was.

Miss Sawyer had been distracted all morning. Little Dani Sinclair’s bruises were terrible, and something hadn’t been quite right when her mother had turned up. Mrs Sinclair had seemed worried, certainly. Concerned. But not affectionate. There had been no kind words or hugs, just a vague impression that this was all a bit of an inconvenience.

It wasn’t just the mother. Miss Sawyer didn’t believe for a minute that it was Dani who had started the so-called fight – she was clearly just scared, protecting whoever the real culprits were. And in the wake of the social worker’s warning the previous week, it all seemed as if there was something more going on. So, come morning break, instead of joining her colleagues for a cup of coffee, she made her way to her office and phoned social services. Short of going round to the Sinclair house and getting to the bottom of this herself, it was all she could do.

Gina Sawyer just hoped she was doing the right thing.

It was mid-afternoon when the doorbell rang. Dani hadn’t dared venture out of her room all day. She was hungry, but not hungry enough to risk a trip to the kitchen. Curiosity, however, got the better of her now, and she pulled back a corner of the curtains that she had kept shut all day and took a peek to see who it was.

Her heart stopped when she saw the social worker, Kate. She was a nice lady, but her very presence scared Dani.

She had shoulder-length curly hair and was wearing a skirt with a smart matching jacket. Under her arm she had a leather case. Through the window Dani could tell that the door had been opened, and Kate spoke for quite a long time before she was finally allowed into the house. Butterflies fluttered in Dani’s stomach. What was she here for? What did she want? Please, God, she whispered in her mind. Don’t let her be here to take me away.

Walking as softly as she could, Dani crept out of her bedroom and tiptoed down the stairs, avoiding the third one from the top, which she knew creaked loudly when it was trodden upon. The door to the sitting room was ajar, and from inside she could hear voices. Her heart in her throat, she approached the door and stood outside, listening carefully.

Mum was crying. It was a strange sound to Dani’s ears, because Mum never cried. The little girl felt a sudden hot rush of shame. Was it her fault that Mum was so upset? She strained her ears to hear what her foster mother was saying between sobs.

‘I just can’t cope with her any more,’ she whimpered. ‘She’s gone off the rails and I can’t control her … not by myself. She’s always fighting, always bullying the little ones. We try to get her to behave and be part of the family, but she won’t do it. I’m at my wits’ end … I just don’t know what to do.’

Dani blinked furiously as she listened. She felt embarrassed by what she heard.

The social worker started to speak. Her voice was calm and gentle. ‘Mrs Sinclair,’ she said. ‘You have to understand how disruptive it would be for Dani to be taken out of the home environment she’s known all her life—’

But as she spoke, a fresh wave of sobbing drowned her words. ‘What about my children? My real children? It’s affecting them too.’ She dissolved once more into those strange-sounding tears.

‘Mrs Sinclair,’ the social worker asked, ‘may I talk to Dani, please? Is she in the house?’

Panic surged through the little girl. She stepped away from the door and hurried up the stairs, doing her best to stay light-footed despite the sudden rush. Back in her bedroom, she sat on the bed, aware that her breathing was a bit heavier than it should have been and unable to stop her face looking guilty.

There was a knock on her bedroom door. ‘Dani.’ Kate’s voice came softly. ‘Can I come in?’

Dani shrank against the wall of her bedroom and didn’t reply.

The door opened slowly and Kate appeared in the room. She had kind eyes, which Dani remembered from the last time she had been here; but those eyes suddenly widened when they saw the state of Dani’s face.

‘Mind if I sit down? Do you remember me?’

Dani nodded.

Kate gave her a smile. ‘You look as if you’ve been in the wars. Want to tell me about it?’

Dani looked down at her bedclothes, feeling suddenly uncomfortable under the glare of the social worker’s stare. Downstairs she heard the front door opening again – James and Rebecca coming back home from school. Having the whole family in the house, being the centre of attention when all she wanted to do was disappear into the background, made her feel even worse.

‘Your teacher told me you got into a fight,’ Kate persisted. ‘Did you get into a fight, Dani?’

She looked up, wide-eyed, and tried to put as much honesty in her face as possible; then she nodded her head. The moment she saw a look of suspicion in Kate’s eyes, however, she looked away.

‘I want you to know, Dani, that you can tell me anything you want without worrying that I’m going to tell anyone else. Do you understand that?’

Dani nodded her head again, still looking away.

‘Miss Sawyer said you started the fight, but you know what I think? I think you’re not the sort of girl who goes round picking fights with people.’ The social worker stretched out her arm and squeezed the little girl’s hand. ‘You’re not, are you?’

Dani shook her head.

A silence fell between them. It was broken only by the sound of Dani’s mum downstairs, shouting something at James and Rebecca. The noise of her voice made Dani start, and she looked guiltily up at Kate.

The social worker’s eyes narrowed, as if something had just made sense.

‘Is there anything you want to tell me about your mum, Dani?’

She shook her head again, quickly and emphatically.

Another silence. When Kate spoke again, it was almost in a whisper. ‘Dani,’ she said. ‘I want you to listen to me very carefully. Sometimes grown-ups do things that make children very sad. And sometimes, when that happens, children think it’s their fault. But it’s not their fault, Dani. If any grown-ups have done anything to make you feel sad, you must tell me. You won’t be in trouble, I promise, and we can try and make sure it doesn’t happen again. Ever.’

Dani clenched her teeth. Half of her wanted to tell Kate about what had happened; but the other half of her wanted to clam up, to keep it secret. If she told, it would only make things worse.

Kate squeezed her hand for a third time. ‘I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what happened, Dani,’ she said quietly. ‘Who did this to you?’

It happened so quickly. Just a single word that seemed to escape Dani’s lips before she even knew she had said it. A single word that she never intended to say, but which was teased out of her by the kind eyes of the well-meaning woman in her room.

‘Mum.’

Then, astonished by her confession, Dani covered her mouth with her hand and she felt the tears coming again. She shook her head, as if a sudden denial would somehow take back the word she had spoken, but it didn’t. Kate’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she sat there in silence for what seemed to Dani an age, though in truth it was little more than a minute.

‘I want you to wait here, Dani,’ the social worker said finally. There was something steely in her voice.

‘You … you won’t tell, will you? You won’t say I told you?’

To Dani’s horror, Kate didn’t give a straight answer. ‘Just wait here, Dani. I’ll be straight back.’ She stood up and left the room.

Dani found herself holding her breath. Holding her breath and waiting for the shouts.

They didn’t take long to come.

‘She’s a little fucking liar! Don’t you see what I have to put up with!’ Dani felt herself cringing inside as she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Moments later, her mum was there in the room, the madness having returned to her eyes.

‘What have you been saying? What lies have you been saying, you stupid little girl?’

‘Nothing,’ Dani whimpered. ‘I never said anything. I promise.’ But she could tell her mum didn’t believe her. Her mum never believed her – why should she start now?

Suddenly she heard the social worker’s voice again. ‘Mrs Sinclair, please. This isn’t in anyone’s interest—’

‘Oh, shut up!’ Dani’s mum shouted. ‘What’s it got to do with you anyway?’

‘Mrs Sinclair.’ The social worker’s voice was suddenly startlingly firm. ‘Your foster daughter has just made a full disclosure of substantial physical abuse. First thing tomorrow morning I’m going to apply to the courts for an Emergency Protection Order, but in the meantime, I intend to remove Dani to a place of safety. You can either let me do my job or you can obstruct me, in which case I will call the police.’

Kate’s ultimatum hung in the air as Tess Sinclair looked between her foster daughter and the social worker, her lips thin and her eyes flashing. ‘All right, all right!’ she spat finally. She cast a poisoned look in Dani’s direction, and then stamped back down the stairs.

Everything seemed to be a blur as the social worker walked back into Dani’s room. ‘Now listen to me, Dani,’ she said. ‘I’m going to take you somewhere else, so we need to pack a few things.’

Dani felt sick. ‘I don’t want to. Where are we going?’

‘Somewhere safe. Just for a little bit, until things settle down here.’

‘But I don’t want to go anywhere else.’

‘As I say, it’s just for a little bit. You’ll be able to come back home soon.’

‘I was only joking,’ Dani tried desperately. ‘It wasn’t really my mum. It was these boys, on the way to school—’

But the social worker gave her such a piercing look that there was no way she could maintain her lie, and she simply dissolved into a flood of tears. Kate took her in her arms and held her gently.

‘Will I see my brother and sister again?’ she asked weakly.

‘Course you will, Dani. Just as soon as we’ve sorted everything out. Come on. I’ll help you pack a few clothes.’

Ten minutes later, Dani had packed a small bag. There wasn’t much in it – some underwear, a couple of tops, a pair of trousers and some pyjamas – but she made sure that her teddy bear, the one that had seen her through so many tearful nights, was safely stowed away. Then, with an encouraging look from the social worker, she followed Kate downstairs.

Mum was in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette and looking steadfastly out of the window.

‘We’ll be in touch, Mrs Sinclair. Would you like to say goodbye to Dani?’

Dani’s mum glanced over her shoulder at them. She curled her lip spitefully and almost looked as if she was going to say something; but in the end she just took another drag on her cigarette and looked back out of the window. Dani felt her face crumple into a confused frown as her foster mother’s indifference stung her like little darts.

‘Come on, Dani,’ Kate said quietly. ‘Let’s go.’ She took the girl’s hand. As they left the kitchen, Dani looked back over her shoulder, hoping that her foster mother would have a change of heart and at least give her a goodbye cuddle. But Tess Sinclair remained where she was, cigarette in hand, facing resolutely in the other direction.

James and Rebecca were in the front room. They sat quietly, side by side, on the sofa, their faces a picture of incomprehension.

‘Where you going, Dani?’ James asked.

‘Don’t know,’ Dani replied.

‘Are you coming back?’

‘Of course she’s coming back, James,’ the social worker butted in. ‘Just as soon as she can.’

James’s eyes grew wide, and he didn’t seem to know what else to say. He shuffled a bit closer to his sister. Rebecca said nothing. She just watched in silence as Dani approached them and gave them both a kiss on the cheek.

‘Bye, James,’ Dani whispered. ‘Bye, Rebecca. I’m sorry your wand got broke.’ Rebecca looked down at the ground.

‘Come on, Dani,’ Kate said gently. ‘You’ll see your brother and sister soon.’

And with that, they left the house.

The social worker’s small red car was waiting outside. Kate opened the boot and put Dani’s clothes inside; then she opened the back door and waited for her to climb in. Dani, however, found herself rooted to the spot. This little house was where she had spent all her life – at least, all of it that she could remember. Suddenly she was being taken away, and it gave her a horrible feeling. A cold feeling. Somehow what her foster mother had done to her didn’t matter – she wanted to go back. If only she had the words to explain it.

Whether or not the social worker could tell what she was feeling, Dani didn’t know. But as she stood there looking back at the house, she felt Kate take her gently by the shoulders and manoeuvre her into the car. Had she been less timid, Dani would have struggled. But she didn’t. She strapped herself in and let Kate close the door. There was something ominous about the way it banged shut.

As Kate walked round to the driver’s entrance, Dani looked back towards the house. Through the glass, she could see the silhouettes of two children, their faces pressed against the living room window, watching them depart. Then another figure, taller than the others, appeared behind them, pulling them away and closing the curtains.

The engine started, and the car moved off.

From her seat in the back, Dani could see herself in the rear-view mirror. As she stared at her reflection, she hardly recognised the face – bruised, battered and totally terrified – that was staring back at her.

Dani Sinclair looked like a stranger, even to herself.