by Cathy Glass
Twenty-Six
Mandy stared at the bed from the safe distance of the room. She felt hot and cold at the same time; her cheeks were damp and her legs trembled. She could feel the weight of John’s body on hers, the bristly hair around his mouth, and him hard against her legs. All the years the memory had been shut away seemed to have preserved it, and now she could see it, feel her pain crystal clear as though it had been frozen in ice. John on top of her, so heavy he was forcing the air out of her as his body chafed roughly against hers and he tried to force himself into her. But what had happened after she’d left her aunt’s house that night and had arrived home with her father, she’d no idea. Had her parents questioned her? Had she seen a doctor or the police? She didn’t know. Perhaps those incidents had been traumas in themselves and would need more time to remember. But what she now realized was how she’d subsequently dealt with boys and dating – she hadn’t. Adam had been right – she’d shunned all intimacy. And had it not been for his gentle and unthreatening nature, when he’d taken time to get to know her and win her trust, she doubted she’d ever have had a boyfriend or been in love.
She remained standing in the middle of the room, staring at the bed, when suddenly she froze. From the corner of her eye she could see the doorknob moving. She turned to look, fear rooting her to the spot. The doorknob turned and the door slowly opened. John appeared. She gasped, her hand shooting to her mouth. She stared in horror and disbelief as he took a step into the room; coming to finish what he’d begun ten years before? She watched petrified as he closed the door behind him, then she finally found her voice.
‘Get out!’ she cried. ‘Get out, you bastard!’
‘Mandy, let me explain.’ He started across the room towards her.
‘No, don’t touch me!’ She backed away.
‘Mandy, I need to explain.’
‘No, keep away. Don’t touch me.’ She retreated as far as she could until the wall rose up behind her. She could see the whites of his eyes, hear his breath coming fast and shallow. He was right in front of her now, his face red. Instinctively she put up her arms to cover her chest and protect herself. ‘No, I won’t let you. Not again! Go away!’
‘Mandy, please,’ he said, taking the final step that allowed him to touch her. She felt his hand on her arm like a branding iron.
‘No!’ With all her might she pushed him away. ‘Get out! Now!’ she screamed at the top of the voice. ‘Get out! You bastard!’
He hesitated. She took a step forward and pushed him again, then went to claw his cheek. He pulled back, finally turning from her and heading towards the door. ‘Bastard!’ she cried after him. ‘I hate you!’
She remained where she was, her fists raised and clenched and her heart racing as she watched him cross the room. He went out without looking back and closed the door behind him. Her knees trembled, her legs buckled and she sank slowly to the floor. Kneeling, she held her head in her hands and began to weep as she’d never cried before. The sobs racked her chest and her tears flowed as though they would never stop. Finally she was crying for what had happened on that dreadful night ten years ago and which, now remembered, could never be forgotten. She would carry the scar for ever. She cried for the pain and fear she now remembered, and for what the sordid secret that was her past had done to her as a person. She wept for her parents and grandparents who’d conspired to keep that dirty secret from her, especially Grandpa who would die believing he was still the keeper of her tainted history. Was that why he couldn’t let go and die in peace? she wondered. Because he still carried the burden of not telling? She had no doubt he, like her parents and Gran, loved her, and if she believed that, then she had to believe they’d acted in her best interests – to protect her. But how Grandpa and Gran had found it within themselves to forgive John and carry on seeing him, she’d no idea. Was it because if they hadn’t forgiven him they would have lost their daughter and granddaughter? Clearly Evelyn and Sarah had forgiven him.
Mandy started as a knock sounded on the door. Not John again, dear God no! Through the blur of tears she stared terrified at the door as a trapped animal fixes on the hunter advancing towards it. The door didn’t open. Pushing down on her hands, she stood and ran to the door, then leant on it with all her might to stop it from opening. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest as she pushed against the wood, listening and waiting; dreading hearing the sound of his voice again. Another knock came but the doorknob didn’t turn. ‘What do you want?’ she cried, her voice sounding far off and unreal.
‘Mandy, it’s Evelyn. May I come in?’
Evelyn? What did she want? To champion John’s cause and ask her to forgive him? No, she didn’t want to see her aunt; she didn’t want to see anyone. She wanted to grab her belongings and go. Through the window the sky was beginning to lighten towards dawn, and the lone walk along the isolated country lane held fewer demons than staying in the house.
‘Mandy?’ Evelyn knocked again. ‘May I come in? I need to talk to you. Please.’
‘No. Why?’
‘I must, Mandy, I have to. I need to tell you something. Please.’
She heard the desperation in Evelyn’s voice. ‘Is John with you?’
‘No, he’s not.’ Her voice caught. ‘It’s just me. Please Mandy.’
Slowly, very slowly, in case it was a trick and John was outside ready to burst in, Mandy took her weight off the door. She looked through the small gap where the door met the frame but all she could see was the landing light. With her hand on the door ready to close it in a second, she turned the knob and slowly opened it. Evelyn came into view in her dressing gown and slippers. There was no one else beside her. Opening the door wider, Mandy wiped her hand over her eyes and looked at Evelyn. She had been crying too; her eyes were red. It reminded Mandy of that night ten years ago when she’d last seen her in the hall.
She looked at Mandy, her face tense. Mandy stood aside to allow her in and closed the door behind her. Evelyn took a couple of steps into the room and turned to face her. ‘Mandy,’ she began uncertainly, ‘I heard shouting. John came to me. He’s very upset…’
‘Upset!’ Mandy cried, unable to believe what she was hearing. ‘He’s upset! What about me?’
‘Mandy, listen please,’ Evelyn said, her brow creasing. ‘It’s not as you think. Let me speak. Sometimes memories get distorted and –’
‘Oh no you don’t!’ Mandy cried again. ‘That won’t work. Your memory might be distorted but mine certainly isn’t. Not now! You’ve kept this from me and covered up for him all these years, but now I remember perfectly!’
‘Mandy,’ Evelyn said, raising her voice slightly, ‘will you please just give me a chance and hear what I have to say? Come and sit down and listen to me. I need to sit while I talk.’
Mandy watched Evelyn cross to the bed. She sat on the edge and lowered her gaze. She was pale and looked absolutely wretched; she was no threat. Putting her own feelings to one side, Mandy went over and sat on the bed beside her.
‘Thank you,’ Evelyn said.
There was silence as Evelyn appeared to be collecting her thoughts; they both concentrated on the floor. Mandy heard her aunt take a breath, then she looked up and straight ahead. ‘Mandy, as you know, your father and I hadn’t spoken for ten years, until I phoned to tell him we’d brought Grandpa here. I thought you’d want to visit your Grandpa – you’ve always been so close, probably closer than Sarah is in some respects. I won’t pretend I wasn’t worried about meeting you again, given what happened. I thought you might still blame us. I found it strange that none of your family had ever spoken of that night but I was totally shocked when I realized you had no memory of what happened here ’ She paused and Mandy waited, with no idea where this was leading. ‘Clearly you now have some recollection of what you think happened, and you’re right to believe you were attacked – in this bedroom. But it was not as you think.’
Mandy looked up sharply and was about to speak, furious that Evelyn was stil
l trying to cover up for John. ‘No, let me finish, please, Mandy,’ she said firmly. ‘This should have been dealt with at the time, not left to fester for all these years. What I am about to tell you is the truth. I hope you will remember how it really was, and see that what I’m saying is right.’
Mandy continued to look at Evelyn and wondered if she was going to apportion blame, as she herself had been doing: yes, John did come into your bed but you had been flirting with him and leading him on.
‘Do you remember that weekend?’ Evelyn asked after a moment. ‘That Saturday when it happened? I mean during the day, not the night?’
Mandy thought. ‘I think so. Some of it’s coming back.’
‘It was a hot June day,’ Evelyn said. ‘And we’d had a barbeque, which you and Sarah had helped cook. We’d eaten sitting on the patio, then we’d gone down to the lower lawns where the swings and slide were – still are.’ Mandy nodded. ‘It was such a lovely day – hot with a warm gentle breeze, and we were all enjoying ourselves, so much that we stayed there all afternoon and well into the evening, only popping up to the house to use the toilet. Mrs Pryce made us sandwiches and jelly and we had a picnic tea on the lawn just before the sun set. Do you remember that day, Mandy?’
Mandy thought. ‘Yes. You had guests staying that weekend. A couple with two children, and the children were too young to play on the slide.’
‘So you can remember that?’
She nodded. ‘I can now.’ She realized it was the day she’d remembered when Adam and she had played on the slide.
Evelyn was watching her carefully now. ‘The couple who stayed with us that weekend with their two young children are called Jimmy and Natalie. Jimmy was John’s brother. I say was because John disowned him that night and has never spoken to him since.’ She paused. ‘Mandy, it wasn’t John who came into your room that night and attacked you; it was his brother, Jimmy.’
‘No! Absolutely not!’ Mandy cried. ‘I know what you’re up to. You think you can blame it on John’s brother because they’ve fallen out! Or perhaps that’s what John made you believe – that it was his brother and not him. Well, if you want to live a lie that’s your problem. But don’t bring me into it. John attacked me and I caught him looking at photos of me naked as a child!’ Shaking with anger she jumped up from the bed and ran to the door.
‘Mandy!’ Evelyn called after her. ‘No, Mandy, please listen.’
‘No! I’ve lived a lie for ten years. I won’t have you take the truth away from me now. You’ll be telling me next it was my fault – that I led John on!’ Flinging open the door she ran across the landing and to the bedroom she was using. Slamming the door behind her she pressed her hands to her ears and screamed. She didn’t care who heard. She screamed for what John had done to her and the secret Evelyn was still trying to maintain. But most of all she screamed for what she had just acknowledged – that she was responsible.
Twenty-Seven
Lowering her hands, she began darting around the room. Some of her clothes lay scattered on the floor and others were strewn across the bed. In blind panic she ran around the bedroom, grabbing her belongings and throwing them in her suitcase. She had to get away as quickly as possible. Away from this house and the truth she now knew: that her schoolgirl crush had led John on to the point where he’d believed it was all right to go into her bedroom; that it wasn’t rape, but what she’d wanted.
With tears streaming down her face she kicked off her slippers and threw them in the case. She grabbed her hairbrush and cosmetic purse and dumped them in too. A knock sounded on the door. ‘Go away,’ she cried. ‘Leave me alone. I’ll be gone soon.’
‘Mandy.’ It was Evelyn. ‘Please, can I come in?’
‘No!’
Dragging the zip round to close the case, she heaved it to the floor. The door opened and Evelyn came in. ‘Get out!’ Mandy shrieked.
Evelyn didn’t get out but continued across the room towards her. She had something in her hand. ‘Mandy, listen, please. Give me one chance to explain, then if you still want to go I’ll call a taxi.’ She took another step and stopped.
Mandy looked at her and was about to say no again, grab her case and escape past her, never to return. But something in her look – in her pained and haunted air; something in the pathetic way she now offered up what she held made Mandy hesitate. ‘Mandy, please look at this,’ she said.
Mandy heard her desperation and took the photograph. She recognized it immediately. It was a snapshot from that Saturday afternoon, when they’d had visitors – the visitors Evelyn now said were John’s brother Jimmy with his wife and children.
‘I took that photograph,’ Evelyn said,‘which is why I’m not in it. John usually took all the photos so he wasn’t in many of them. I said it would be nice to have one of him with his brother and his family.’ She gave a tight smile. ‘Little did I know it would be the last photograph of us all together. Little did I know what Jimmy had in mind as I took it.’ Her lip trembled.
Mandy looked at Evelyn and then again at the photograph. John was posing with Jimmy on one side of him and Jimmy’s wife on the other. Mandy was next to Jimmy, and Jimmy’s two small children stood either side of Sarah at the front. Everyone was smiling, the sky was blue, and the swings and slide could be seen in the background.
‘Mandy, look closely at John and Jimmy,’ Evelyn said. Mandy looked, and fear crept up her spine. ‘John and Jimmy were only fourteen months apart in age,’ Evelyn continued, ‘and were often mistaken for twins. They were the same height, had the same brown hair and very similar features. Except Jimmy always had a moustache and John never had one, ever. Mandy, I know you remember the attack but in the dark and the terror of being woken you were mistaken about your attacker. Think back. You cried out for help and Sarah heard and came in. She saw Jimmy on top of you and screamed. Do you remember? Then I came and Jimmy fled past me. It was Jimmy who attacked you, not John, I promise you, love. We both saw him.’
Mandy continued to stare at the photograph. John and Jimmy: the same height and build, with features so similar they could easily pass as twins. Only Jimmy had a thick moustache and John didn’t. The moustache Mandy remembered scratching her cheek as he caught her off the slide, and then tearing at her mouth as he tried to kiss her that night, when she’d woken petrified to find him on top of her in the dark. She remembered Jimmy and how uncomfortable she’d felt around him even before that night. Her mouth went dry and her legs trembled as she recognized the truth in Evelyn’s words.
‘Do you remember now, Mandy?’ Evelyn was saying. ‘Do you remember?’
Mandy slowly nodded. She had gone cold and felt so weak. She sat on the bed. Evelyn sat next to her.
‘Your dad blamed us for not protecting you,’ Evelyn said, ‘and he was right to do so. But we were punished – we crucified ourselves with guilt. John disowned Jimmy that night and we’ve had no contact with him or his family since. But, Mandy, while your father was right to blame us – we should have seen the warning signs and protected you – he was wrong to simply cut us off and not talk about it. You can’t bury something like that. It’s not healthy.’
‘I know,’ Mandy said quietly. ‘I know.’
They were silent for some moments. Evelyn placed her hand lightly on Mandy’s arm and they both gazed at the photograph she still held. A small weight began to lift from Mandy’s shoulders – the truth was out and she wasn’t in any way to blame. She’d never encouraged Jimmy, consciously or otherwise, by having a crush on him; far from it, she’d always shied away from him and had kept her distance. She could now remember other times when he’d kissed her cheek, his moustache scratching, or tickled her for too long, or patted her bottom, or winked suggestively when no one was looking: the warning signs Evelyn had referred to. She also remembered how she’d recoiled from his advances. No, she wasn’t to blame for the attack, and her relief was enormous.
‘What happened to Jimmy?’ she asked at length, handing back the photograph. ‘
Was he prosecuted?’
Evelyn shook her head and slid the photograph into her dressinggown pocket. ‘Your father didn’t want the police involved. He thought being interviewed and having to give evidence would cause you even more upset. He wanted you to forget it and move on with your life – he thought that was best. Mandy, I would be lying if I said we weren’t relieved. It wouldn’t have done us any good if we’d had to go to court and it was splashed over the local newspapers, nor John’s business. And I was relieved that Sarah wouldn’t have to give evidence, which would have been very upsetting for her.’
‘So that was it? Matter finished?’ Mandy asked, upset that it had all been brushed away so easily.
Evelyn nodded. ‘Although you did see a doctor the following day.’
‘And?’
‘I don’t know the details but I understand it had stopped short of rape. Which confirmed to your father that he needn’t go to the police.’
Mandy gave a small cynical laugh.
‘I’m sorry, love,’ Evelyn said, taking Mandy’s hand between hers. ‘I really am. I’m sorry we didn’t protect you, sorry we lost you, and sorry you had to find out like this.’
