The Girl in the Mirror

by Cathy Glass

  Hannah was calm as she spoke, too calm, Mandy thought, as though all the emotion had been wrung from her and she had nothing left to feel. ‘He wouldn’t have got away with it this time,’ Hannah added tightly. ‘He would have been put in prison for a long time. But he died first.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Mandy said again, completely overwhelmed. ‘I can only guess at what you must be going through.’

  Hannah looked at her. ‘It was you who finally made me go to the police and report him.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Yes. Last Christmas Mum got out some old family photographs. We were looking at them, Dad as well, and there was a picture of you with Uncle John and Auntie Evelyn from when you were little. I asked Dad why we never saw Uncle John and he flew into a rage and tore up the photo. Then he had a right go at Mum. It was a rotten Christmas. Later I asked Mum why he’d been so angry and Mum said it was because you’d caused a lot of trouble by saying things about him that weren’t true. I knew then that he’d done something to you. I just knew it. And to Katie as well. I knew I had to stop him. The day after Boxing Day I went to the police. Later that afternoon they arrested him and he died the following day.’

  Hannah stopped and Mandy reached over and took her hand in hers. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said again. Then with the need to now know everything she asked gently: ‘How did he die?’

  Hannah hesitated and Mandy saw her bottom lip tremble; it was the first emotion she’d shown since she’d started to tell her. ‘After he’d been charged he was released on bail but he wasn’t allowed to come home or anywhere near me. That evening the police came to our home and said he was dead. He’d committed suicide.’ Mandy shuddered and held her hand tightly. ‘He jumped under a train in London. So now I have to live with the guilt of being responsible for his suicide as well as everything else. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or sorry he’s dead. I’d like to believe none of it’s my fault, but I can’t.’

  Mandy held her hand. It was some time before she spoke; words seemed totally ineffective beside the enormity of what Hannah had gone through – was still going through. ‘If only I’d reported him,’ Mandy said at last. ‘You and Katie wouldn’t have suffered.’

  Hannah gave a small shrug. ‘Mum says the only person to blame is him.’

  They were silent again, then Hannah’s phone rang from the pocket of her school blazer. She took it out and answered it. ‘Yes, Mum, I’m with her now. No, at the station. Yes, I won’t be long.’ She closed the phone and returned it to her pocket. ‘Mum worries about me all the time.’

  ‘I can understand why.’

  ’Anyway,’ Hannah said with a small shrug, ‘I wanted you to know. And maybe we could keep in touch? I think it would help if I could talk to you sometimes – like an older sister. Is that OK?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Give me your number and I’ll put it in my phone, then I’ll text you and you’ll have my number.’ Mandy took her phone from her bag and as Hannah recited the number of her phone she entered it in hers.

  ‘Are you getting help? Counselling?’ Mandy asked after a moment.

  ‘Yes, I go once a fortnight.’

  ‘Good.’

  They were silent again. Mandy took a sip from the coffee which was now cold and, pulling a face, pushed the cup to one side.

  Hannah smiled. ‘I’d better be going. Mum will be worried. Thanks for listening.’

  ‘Thanks for telling me. It was very brave of you. It helps me.’

  Hannah shrugged. ‘I don’t feel brave. I often feel like shit. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t said anything.’

  Mandy leant across the table in earnest. ‘Hannah, you did right. Believe me. I know how difficult it is now. You’ve suffered dreadfully but you did the right thing. If you hadn’t reported him he wouldn’t have stopped, and how long would it have been before he went on to abuse your sister? And others after her.’

  ‘That’s what Mum says. I guess I have to give myself time.’ She shrugged, unconvinced, and stood.

  Mandy also stood and walked with her out of the coffee shop and on to the station concourse. They turned to face each other and hugged. ‘I’ll text when I’m on the train,’ Mandy said.

  ‘Thanks.’ Hannah turned, and Mandy watched her walk away. She’d been through so much, how was she coping? How could her life or her mother’s ever be normal again? It made Mandy’s own suffering seem manageable beside hers.

  Checking the signboard Mandy saw the next train for Paddington was in five minutes, and she made her way to Platform 3. As she went she texted Hannah so she would have her number: You did the right thing and it was never ever yr fault. luv mandy x.

  A minute later a text came back: Thanks x.

  Forty

  Flicking on the light switch, Mandy dropped her bag by the door and went to the fridge, where she finished the carton of orange juice. She should really have had something to eat but she couldn’t face it yet – her stomach was churning with the thought of the phone call she had to make to John. How much of the detail surrounding the circumstances of Jimmy’s death she should tell him she didn’t know. She’d thought about it the entire train journey home and still hadn’t decided.

  She dumped the empty carton of juice in the swing-top bin and then crossed to the bay windows and pulled the curtains. It was nearly 9 p.m. and dark outside. She took her phone from her bag and sat in the armchair. She needed to get the call over and done with and then she would phone Adam. There was still time to see him, and she wanted to see him very much.

  Flipping up the lid on her phone the screen illuminated. She pressed Contacts, and then E – John was listed under E for Evelyn and John. Their landline number highlighted and she pressed to connect. She felt hot and uncomfortable; she was after all about to tell John his brother was dead. If Evelyn answered she wasn’t sure if she should tell her or whether she should ask for John. She hoped it wasn’t the answerphone for it would mean phoning back later or very early the following morning – it wasn’t a message you could leave on a machine.

  ‘Hello?’ a bright young female voice said, and for a moment Mandy thought she must have the wrong number.

  ‘I’m sorry, who am I speaking to?’ Mandy asked. ‘I wanted John Osborne?’

  There was a moment’s pause and then a small laugh. ‘Hi, Mandy, it’s Sarah.’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice.’

  ‘Not surprising. It’s over ten years since we last spoke on the phone. Dad is right beside me. I’ll put him on. Simon and I were just leaving. See you tomorrow. Are you coming back here for the buffet after?’ Mandy thought she made the funeral sound like a party.

  ‘I expect so. I’m coming with Mum and Dad so it will depend on them. See you tomorrow.’

  There was a small clunk as she handed the phone to John. Mandy heard John say goodbye to Sarah and Simon before his voice came on the line. ‘Hello, Mandy. Everything all right?’

  ‘No, not really.’ She paused and took a breath. ‘John, I’m sorry to be the one to have to tell you this, but I learnt today that Jimmy is dead.’There was silence the other end which Mandy took to be shock. ‘I went to his house earlier today. I needed to confront him, and his wife and daughter told me.’

  There was more silence, and then she heard John clear his throat. ‘Thank you for telling me, Mandy, but I already know.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes. I knew the Saturday after it happened. When I visited my mother – our mother – at the nursing home, the matron offered me her condolences and said she was sorry to hear of my brother’s death. I was shocked, obviously – Jimmy was only young, but I didn’t let on to the matron I didn’t know. Jimmy’s wife, Natalie, had phoned the nursing home and asked if they would tell Mum of Jimmy’s death. But of course with the Alzheimer’s Mum hadn’t remembered. She doesn’t even know she has sons.’ His voice fell away.

  Mandy hesitated. ‘Do you know how he died?’ she asked tentatively.

  ‘Yes. I went to the
inquest. He committed suicide.’

  She hesitated again. ‘And the reason why he committed suicide? About his daughter, Hannah?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said sombrely.

  She paused, and then her anger bubbled over. ‘So why didn’t you tell me?’ she demanded. ‘Why didn’t you tell me he was dead or that he’d been accused of assaulting his daughter? Why didn’t you or Evelyn say something when I remembered what had happened to me? I don’t understand!’

  There was a long pause before John’s voice came on the line again, measured and very serious: ‘We didn’t think it would help you to know, Mandy. And there was the worry that if you knew about Hannah you might in some way feel responsible.’

  ‘Too right I feel responsible. And who’s “we”?’ she demanded again. ‘Who made the decision not to tell me?’

  ‘Your father. And I agreed with him.’

  ‘So he knows about Jimmy as well!’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And when did the two of you agree to keep this from me?’ She was furious – having just been released from one set of lies she now found she was the victim of another.

  ‘When you offered to stay to help nurse Grandpa your father was worried that Jimmy might still be visiting our house,’ John said. ‘So I told him Jimmy was dead. When he pressed me I told him the details surrounding his death.’

  ‘And no one thought to tell me! What else don’t I know?’

  ‘Nothing. That’s it.’

  ‘Are you completely sure, John? Everyone in this family seems very good at sharing confidences without telling me.’

  ‘Mandy,’ he said, raising his voice slightly. ‘It’s the truth. When you decided to stay and help us with Grandpa your father told me that none of you had ever spoken of that night in all this time and he wanted it kept that way. I thought it was odd but that was his decision. Evelyn and I promised your father we wouldn’t say anything to you, and we didn’t. When you remembered what had happened I phoned your father the next morning and told him. Your father was adamant that you shouldn’t be told about Jimmy’s death and the reason he’d committed suicide. He couldn’t see it would help you, and I agreed. He wanted to protect you, Mandy. If anyone should feel guilty for not reporting Jimmy at the time it’s your father and me. And we do. It was a disastrous decision, given what happened since, and we’re having to live with that.’

  Mandy stared across the room, the phone pressed to her ear, angry, frustrated, yet reluctantly understanding that they’d only been trying to protect her. Her gaze moved across the room to her collection of china dogs, lovingly saved up for and bought with her pocket money. How long ago that simple pleasure now seemed; how far away the naivety of childhood.

  ‘Mandy,’ John was saying, ‘when the funeral is over I might give Natalie a ring and see if there is anything I can do. It’s time we tried to put the past behind and look to the future.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure she’d appreciate that.’ She sighed, suddenly exhausted. ‘I’ll go now. Mum and Dad are collecting me early tomorrow.’

  ‘All right. See you tomorrow. I’m sorry if we did the wrong thing.’

  Mandy said goodbye, cleared the call and sat for some moments staring thoughtfully across the room. The future, yes: John was right it was time to try and move on – to a future that wasn’t complicated by the secrecy of the past. Returning her attention to the phone she pressed Adam’s number and he answered immediately. ‘Hi love, you’re back early. Did you have a good time?’

  ‘I didn’t visit a friend,’ she said carefully. ‘I’ve been to Cambridgeshire to try and sort out my past. Adam, I know it’s late but would you like to come round?’

  She heard his hesitation, and for a moment thought he was going to say no – that he’d had enough of her blowing hot and cold, and thought it was best they parted. ‘One problem,’ he said. ‘I’ve just bought fish and chips. How about I bring them with me and heat them up in your microwave?’

  ‘Great,’ she said, relieved. ‘And I’ll help you eat them. I’ve suddenly realized how hungry I am.’

  ‘In that case I’ll pick up another portion on the way over, together with a bottle of wine. See you soon.’

  Forty-One

  Half an hour later she sat opposite Adam at the small table in her bedsitting room; they were eating fish and chips with their fingers. The smell of fried fish drifted around the room and out on to the landing. She owned cutlery, of course, but there was something especially delicious about eating fish and chips straight from the paper, dripping in vinegar and coated with an unhealthy amount of salt. It was wonderfully reminiscent of holidays as a child. Adam had opened the wine and was soon refilling their glasses. Only when they’d finished eating, and Mandy had fetched the roll of kitchen towel to wipe the grease from their fingers, and had thrown the fish wrappings in the bin, did she begin to tell him.

  She took another sip of wine and then, reaching across the table for his hand, began by telling him of the night, ten years ago, when Jimmy had come into her room. His horror was obvious as she described the terror of waking in the dark to find Jimmy on top of her, then the ten years when her mind had blocked it out and no one had spoken of it. She described the strange thoughts and flashbacks she’d experienced when she’d returned to Evelyn’s house, culminating in the night when she’d remembered. Adam was quiet and very still as she spoke, his gaze not moving from hers. She finished by telling him of her visit to Jimmy’s wife and daughter and the phone call she’d made earlier that evening to John.

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ Adam said at length, visibly shocked. ‘But why didn’t you tell me sooner, Mandy? I could have helped.’

  ‘I couldn’t. I had to sort it out in my own head first before I found the words or courage to tell you. And I guess I’m still sorting it out.’ She looked away and felt his hand squeeze hers.

  ‘And you’re sure you don’t want me to go with you to the funeral tomorrow? I can if you want.’

  ‘I’ll be OK with Mum and Dad, and I need to talk to them about all this. It will be a good opportunity.’

  He paused. ‘Mandy, there’s something I need to talk to you about. It’s been on my mind for a while. I won’t be offended if it’s not right. Just be honest and tell me what you think.’

  She looked at him with a stab of unease. ‘What have I done?’

  ‘Nothing bad.’ He smiled and turned to his jacket hanging on the back of his chair. Delving into the inside pocket, he took out a small paper bag and a folded sheet of A4 paper, which he tilted towards him so she couldn’t see.

  ‘I hope you haven’t forgotten your promise,’ he said. ‘The one you made at your aunt’s?’ She frowned questioningly. ‘You agreed we should move in together, so I’ve been looking at flats. What do you think?’ He opened the sheet of paper and placed it in front of her. Mandy gazed down at the estate agent’s details and a photograph of the outside of a flat. ‘It’s in a small new development,’ Adam said. ‘Ten minutes’ walk from the station, which will be good for me getting into work. It’s got a lounge, kitchen, one big bedroom and a smaller one.’ He pointed to the photographs on the details as he spoke. ‘The spare room is very light and would make an ideal studio.’ He gave a small nervous laugh. ‘The rent isn’t too bad and there’s my salary and also that bit of money my granddad left me. So there you go. What do you think, Mandy?’

  She looked up and, smiling, felt her eyes mist. ‘I think the flat looks wonderful, Adam, and I think you are too.’

  ‘Good, because I’ve put down the deposit and we can have the keys next week.’

  She gasped, but before she had time to say anything Adam was opening the paper bag and taking out a small jeweller’s box. ‘I know we agreed we would live together and not think about getting married, but I wanted to buy you something to mark the occasion. I haven’t bought you anything in ages, apart from fish and chips. I hope you like it and it’s entirely up to you which finger you wear it on.’ He looked at her, embarrassed.
Opening the box he set it on the table in front of her, beside the estate agent details.

  She looked at the ring and her eyes filled. ‘And I used to think you weren’t romantic!’ She laughed and blinked back the tears. ‘It’s beautiful, absolutely perfect, it must have cost a fortune.’

  ‘You really like it?’ he asked, concerned.

  ‘Yes, it’s exactly what I would have chosen. Thank you so much.’

  He smiled, pleased. ‘It should fit,’ he said. ‘I used my little finger as a gauge. I know your other ring goes down to my first knuckle.’

  She felt him watching her intently as she carefully lifted the diamond solitaire from the box. It caught in the overhead light and its facets glinted all the colours of the rainbow. ‘It’s absolutely lovely,’ she said again. Holding it in her right hand, she slowly slid it over the third finger on her left hand. It fitted perfectly.

  Adam stood and came round the table. Taking her gently by the shoulders, he drew her to her feet and kissed her, first on the cheek and then fully on the lips.

  ‘It’s a bit late for going home,’ she said as he drew back. ‘Why don’t you stay the night?’

  ‘I will if you really want me to, Mandy.’

  ‘Yes, I want you to.’

  Forty-Two

  Seated in the rear of the car behind her mother, Mandy gazed out of the side window with a warm feeling of inner peace. The familiar and repetitive scenery of fields running along the edge of the motorway encouraged her to daydream, and her thoughts had returned to the night before. Still gazing out of the side window, her fingers closed around the ring on her left hand and her heart skipped a beat. What a surprise. How romantic! She’d never have thought it of Adam. Finding the flat and then presenting her with the ring at the end of their fish-and-chip supper. She smiled. He’d left for work before her parents had arrived, but she’d shown them the ring and told them of their plans to move in together, and they were delighted. They liked Adam and had offered to help with the move. But now she needed to raise a subject with them that would be less welcome. If she didn’t raise it now it would hang over her, growing in magnitude as grievances left unspoken so often do.