Jennie Ensor - The Girl in His Eyes

‘He never did anything like that again. I always thought he might, though. After that night, I kept thinking he would make me do it again, or he’d make me have sex with him this time. He never did, thank God.’

‘How long did all this go on for?’

‘A year or so. I’m not sure why he stopped. Maybe he thought I’d had enough by then. Or maybe he was scared someone would find out.’

‘You didn’t tell anyone? Not even your mother?’

‘No, I didn’t tell anyone. He made me promise.’

Looking back now, it seemed so obvious. Why hadn’t she just told her mother what he’d done that first time? She must have asked herself a hundred times, now it was too late to change a thing.

‘I know it sounds crazy, I didn’t tell my mother. Or my brother, a teacher, someone.’ She heard her voice weak and scratchy in her throat. ‘But he said it would kill my mother if she ever found out. He meant it would actually kill her, not just “Oh, it’ll kill her”. I couldn’t tell anyone.’

Her heart drummed in her chest. Finally, it was out.

Rachel tucked an escaped strand of hair behind her ear. She seemed deep in thought.

‘What do you think would have happened if you had told her?’

‘Maybe she would have asked for a divorce, and we’d have all carried on happily without Dad, and he wouldn’t have come near me again. I don’t know.’ She heard her shrug reflected in her voice. ‘But maybe not. He was the boss in our family, we all had to do what he said. Mum didn’t stand up to him, Rachel. She tried to, but he always had to be in control, everything had to be done his way. If I’d told her, she probably wouldn’t have been able to do anything at all, she’d have just crumbled, fallen apart. And I’d have been left alone with him, apart from my brother.’

‘Your mother might have left him.’

‘No, she wouldn’t have. She was tied to him, she still is. She says she loves him even though he makes her so unhappy sometimes.’

Neither of them spoke. Invisible specks of rain hung in the air. The wind broke up the reflection of the street lamps on the bridge.

It was done, for better or for worse. The awkwardness, anxiety and exhilaration were gone. The anger she knew she ought to feel was still lost somewhere inside her. All she felt was relief, and the ache that never went away – a longing for things to have been different.

‘I’ll never understand why he did it, Rachel. A father is supposed to love and protect you. What’s the point of having children otherwise?’

Rachel’s arms surrounded her. ‘You poor thing. I can’t imagine what it must have been like. Your father was the pits. I’m surprised you can bear to see him now.’

‘I got used to pretending, I suppose. I wish he wasn’t my father. I wish I had a normal father, one like everyone else.’

‘It’s hard, isn’t it? My mother used to do crazy things to me and my brother, and I couldn’t tell anyone.’

Laura looked at her friend in surprise. She knew Rachel hadn’t had a happy childhood, though she hadn’t talked about it much – at least, only those bits she could manage to laugh at.

Three women in office clothes and heels ran past, yelling. The first raindrops were falling, splattering loudly on the ground.

Rachel reached for her bag. ‘Let’s go up to that bar,’ she said, nodding to the terrace. ‘It’s going to pour.’

They found a table by the window. While Rachel went to get the drinks, Laura watched people scurrying for shelter. She was getting scared now. What if her father found out? Had she done the right thing, telling someone? Gusts of wind ruffled the surface of the river, creating vast silvery lakes. A pelican landed on the cabin of a moored boat, bobbing crazily.

‘I got us mojitos, it’s two for one. I could do with a drink after what you told me.’

She thanked Rachel and took a gulp of the drink.

‘I find it hard to believe your father could do those things and your mother didn’t know,’ Rachel said all of a sudden, as if she’d been dwelling on it for some time. ‘Surely she had an inkling what was going on? What planet was she on, for fuck’s sake?’

‘Well, if she did know, she’s never said anything. Dad’s clever. I think he made sure she never had any reason to be suspicious. But I suppose it’s a bit odd she never twigged what was going on.’

‘Aren’t you angry with her for not protecting you?’

Laura slammed her glass on the table. ‘It wasn’t my mother who did those things! He did.’

But wasn’t Rachel right? That was part of the reason she avoided seeing her mother, wasn’t it? She was angry with her mother for not seeing the truth, for not being a stronger person. Because her mother couldn’t stand up to him, he’d thought he could get away with anything. Her mother hadn’t seen what was wrong with Dad. Why hadn’t her mother protected her – why had she been the one to protect her mother? Even now , I’m going around on tippy toes to save her from the harsh reality .

Laura lowered her voice. ‘I’m sorry, Rachel. It’s so hard to explain. Things aren’t right between me and my mother. I guess part of me does resent her. I’ve always hidden things from her. Maybe it’s because I’ve had to keep this big secret. I just can’t imagine telling her about all this.’

An uneasy silence.

‘I’m glad you told me,’ Rachel said at last. ‘It must have been really difficult for you.’

‘I had to tell someone. It seemed like the right time.’ She waited, summoning the long-stored question to her lips. ‘I’ve been thinking. Do you think my dad could do the same thing to someone else?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He’s started taking this girl swimming. Emma, her name is. She’s twelve. Her mother’s on her own, her husband left her. My mother’s been friends with her for ages.’

‘This woman must be very trusting.’

‘Dad’s friends with her too, she trusts him. Do you think I should tell someone about what he did to me? Emma’s mother, maybe?’

Rachel stabbed her straw into the ice at the bottom of her glass. ‘I think you should tell your mother about everything your father did to you. Tell her you think he might do it to Emma too.’

‘What if she can’t deal with it? What if something happens to her? She loves him, Rachel. She’d be devastated.’

‘And what if he does do something to this girl? After what he did to you…’

‘I know. But he probably won’t get the chance to do anything. He’s only going swimming with her. There’ll be other people around—’

‘All the time? What if he does do something? How would you feel then?’

She shook her head, unable to put her feelings into words. An icky swirl of foreboding, brooding and strengthening.

From above, a long, deep rumble.

‘That can’t be thunder, can it? In January?’ Rachel’s voice was charged with excitement. They both turned to the window. Another flash of lightning forked in the sky, causing a stir around them. ‘Let’s get out of here before it buckets. I’ll come with you to the station.’

They went out, onto the street. Rachel stopped and struggled to open her tiny umbrella, jabbing at buttons and shaking it. The wind tossed an empty crisp packet high into the air.

‘It’s stuck. Hold on, let me fix it.’

‘We’re going to be soaked, hurry up!’

Finally, the umbrella opened. They huddled beneath its inadequate canopy.

‘Hold it straight, will you?’ Laura clung on to Rachel’s arm. ‘I’m getting a river of water down my neck.’

‘It’s hard to hold it straight in this wind.’ Rachel started laughing. ‘You try.’