Jennie Ensor - The Girl in His Eyes

But it was no use. Paul’s mouth was on Emma’s belly button. His hand lay on her thigh, next to her pubic hair. Soon, he would put his fingers inside her most private, most sacred place. The same fingers he used to caress her own body.

She bit down hard on her lip, tasted blood.

‘I’ve made some soup for lunch.’ Katherine’s head appeared at the door. ‘Will you have some?’

‘No thanks, I’m not hungry. But you go ahead.’

‘Are you sure? What about a sandwich?’

The door closed. Suzanne listened to the muffled clatter of plates and saucepans coming from the kitchen. It was a relief to be left alone; she didn’t have to pretend she was coping when she wasn’t, or that everything would be alright when she knew it wouldn’t. She dug her nails into the top of her hand, imprinting a series of dark curves on her skin.

Her husband had betrayed her as surely as if he’d had an affair. Only this was a thousand times worse.

Well, he could sod off out of her life. She never wanted to see him again.

No. How could she live without Paul? He was her blood, her backbone.

She closed her eyes, felt herself drift away. She was brought back suddenly when Katherine burst into the room, holding a handset.

‘It’s Jane, for you.’

She took the phone.

‘Jane?’ Her heart beat faster. Why did Jane want to speak to her? Had she told the police about Paul?

‘Hello, Suzanne.’ Curt, emotionless.

‘Jane, I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you—’

‘I didn’t call to make up with you.’ Her voice had the tone you’d use for someone you didn’t like. No, someone you hated.

‘I just wanted to ask you about something,’ Jane continued. ‘Has Paul abused anyone else besides Emma?’

For a moment, she was tempted to lie.

‘Laura told me some things on the weekend that I didn’t know before. I would have told you if I’d known.’

‘So, tell me, what did he do to Laura?’

‘I’m not going to go into the details, Jane. It was when she was about Emma’s age. He touched her. He did things that were… indecent.’

‘But you didn’t find out until a few days ago. You didn’t have any knowledge of it before, any suspicions? There was nothing you could have done to prevent Paul raping my daughter?’

She felt herself shrivel. ‘No, there was nothing definite. Except…’

‘Except what?’ The question was barked at her, as if she were under interrogation.

It would make things worse, she knew that before she opened her mouth.

‘They were just little things. The way he looked at young girls sometimes seemed… a bit odd. There was one time…’ She remembered the girl in the hotel restaurant and shivered. ‘But, Jane, I never imagined what he would do to Emma, not in a million years.’

Jane laughed, a short, humourless croak. ‘Just like you never imagined him doing anything to your daughter?’

The words struck her deep in the belly, pulling the air from her.

‘I’m not saying that what happened is your fault, Suzanne.’ Jane’s words sounded distorted, as if they were being strangled. ‘I was the one who trusted him with my daughter. I should have realised from the start how vulnerable she was, how—’ Jane stopped abruptly. When she spoke again, her voice was composed, hard-edged. ‘Anyhow, I’m sure you understand what I’m saying.’

For a few moments, neither of them spoke.

‘Emma told me today that Laura came by to see me, the evening before Paul…’ Jane cut herself off. ‘…the evening before that day. She said Laura was worried that he might be up to something. She warned her not to be alone with him.’ Her tone sharpened. ‘Did you know that Laura came to see me?’

‘She mentioned it at the weekend – when she told me about Paul. I had no idea before that she suspected him. I would have said something if I’d known.’

‘I’ll have to take your word for that.’ A brief pause. ‘Well, I won’t disturb you any longer.’

Suzanne hesitated. She tried to keep the anger and frustration out of her voice.

‘So, Emma didn’t tell you that Laura came over?’

‘She told me. I didn’t listen.’ A deep sigh at the other end of the line. ‘You may as well know the whole of it. I was delayed getting home from work that Friday. Emma tried to tell me that Laura had been over when I finally got home, but I didn’t take it in. Toby ran at me as soon as she started talking. He was in tears, saying that she’d hurt his arm – they’d been fighting again. I lost my rag with Emma, told her she was old enough to know better and sent her up to her room. Then a friend phoned and asked if I knew that Mandy had been suspended from school for spray painting the gym – the girl Emma was going to go shopping with on the Saturday. It was the last straw. I phoned Paul afterwards and told him to come over on Saturday after all, I needed him to keep an eye on Emma – I wasn’t having my daughter turn into a delinquent too. He texted Emma right away with his modelling bullshit, so I’ve found out, and she swallowed it.’

She could almost hear Jane spit the final words into the phone. Before she could say anything, Jane carried on.

‘The silly girl didn’t try to tell me again about Laura coming over, and kept quiet about her warning not to be alone with your husband. She went off with him the next day because she was pissed off with me for getting mad at her – and she thought he could help turn her into Rosie fucking Huntingley-White.’

She waited for Jane to catch her breath.

‘She didn’t dare tell me any of this until this morning, she was so scared I’d think badly of her. She thought that because Laura had warned her away from him, I would blame her for what happened.’

‘If only she’d…’ She didn’t dare to say the rest.

‘What?’

If only Emma had listened to Laura, they wouldn’t be having this sodding conversation.

‘Oh, never mind.’ Emma had suffered enough already, and so had Jane, and what was done was done. ‘Jane, before you go.’ She braced herself for Jane’s reaction. ‘Have you talked to the police? Has Emma?’

‘Oh, so that’s what you’re worried about.’ A fake laugh. ‘You needn’t worry. I’m not going to make Emma go through any more than she has already. Endless questions from the police and lawyers… she doesn’t want to talk about it to them. She doesn’t want to give a load of total strangers a blow-by-blow account of how he humiliated her, and I don’t blame her. Frankly, she’s in no state to go through all that.’

‘How… how is she?’ As soon as she formed the words, she wished she could take them back.

‘Oh, please.’ Contempt. The voice had become a stranger’s. ‘I’m sorry, I have to go. I won’t be phoning again. Goodbye, Suzanne.’

The phone clicked loudly in her ear.

‘Are you alright, love?’ Katherine put her head round the door. ‘What did Jane want? Suzy? What’s the matter?’

Suzanne tried to meet her friend’s eyes, which were too kind. She’d felt she’d been knocked flat, a mouse mowed down by a lorry.

‘She’s not going to the police. And she blames me for what happened to Emma. Herself as well, but mainly me.’

‘Suzanne, listen to me. You’re not to blame and neither is Jane. Paul is. He’s the one who needs to get whatever’s coming to him.’ Katherine’s hand throttled a cushion as she spoke. She put it down and frisked dog hairs from her corduroy skirt. ‘How about a drink? You look like you need one.’

‘I’d murder a gin and tonic, Kat, if you’ve got any of that bottle of Gordon’s left.’

‘I’ll join you. Come and help me in the kitchen. It’s Jeremy’s bridge night so we’ll be alone for dinner, unless David wants to join us.’