by Lauren Algeo
At least by now they would be in the front room, well in to the night’s drinking, and she could retreat straight to her room.
Georgie shouted a greeting as she entered the house and got herself a drink from the kitchen.
‘Did you have a nice time love?’ her mum called from the front room.
‘Yep,’ she replied.
She reluctantly poked her head round the door and was relieved to see Nick engrossed in watching a football match on TV.
‘I’ve got some homework to do then I’m having an early night,’ she lied.
‘Ok darling, see you in the morning.’ Her mum’s words were heavy with alcohol.
Nick didn’t so much as look at her. Feeling triumphant, Georgie breezed up the stairs. She went to the bathroom and got ready for bed then she closed herself in her bedroom.
During the last couple of nights, she thought she’d heard her bedroom door open and felt Nick watching her. As a precaution, she wedged the chair from her dressing table under the door handle.
She put in the earphones from her iPod and climbed into bed to the comforting sound of her favourite boy band. She fell asleep almost instantly. When she awoke, the house was dark and the clock on her table read 12:17am. There was a faint nudging sound coming from her door. That was what had woken her – he was trying to get in.
Georgie took out her now-silent earphones and lay still, trying to control her breathing. She heard Nick’s grunt of frustration as he tried harder to get in. The chair held and several pushes barely moved it an inch. Nick punched the wall in drunken anger and Georgie listened to him stomp down to her mum’s room and close the door loudly.
She let out a ragged breath of relief. Her body was trembling but she had won. She could use the chair every night now to keep him away. Georgie slept soundly for the first time in weeks.
The next morning was bright and sunny, and Georgie felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She came down to the kitchen, feeling confident enough to have breakfast before school. That feeling soon turned to horror.
Her mum was at the counter making toast, with her back to Georgie, and Nick was nowhere to be seen.
‘Morning mum,’ Georgie said, going to the fridge to get some orange juice.
‘Morning,’ her mum replied quietly.
She turned to put the plate of toast on the table and Georgie gasped as her mum’s hair shifted to reveal her face. There was an ugly purple bruise by her left eye. It spread down her cheek and the eye itself was swollen half-closed.
‘Mum!’ Georgie cried, rushing to her side. ‘What happened?’
‘Nothing, I fell,’ her mum mumbled, hastily raking her hair forward to try and cover it. ‘Just a silly accident.’
Georgie knew better. Only a fist could make that sort of bruise.
‘But mum…’ she started.
‘Sit down and eat,’ her mum interrupted firmly, taking the carton of juice and pouring Georgie a glass.
Georgie sat down slowly, her mind racing at this new development. She nibbled unenthusiastically at a slice of toast. Her mum put the full glass down in front of her, spilling a few drops as Nick sauntered into the kitchen. The toast wedged in Georgie’s throat.
Nick smiled brightly and kissed her mum on the right cheek. ‘Morning Lily… Georgie.’
He took a seat across from Georgie and waited while her mum made him a cup of tea. She could feel his eyes boring into her over the table so she kept hers on her plate.
‘We’re out of milk,’ her mum apologised timidly from the fridge. ‘I’ll run and get some.’
‘Don’t be silly Lil,’ Nick replied, getting up from the table. ‘I’ll go and pick some up. I can give Georgie a lift to school at the same time.’
Georgie couldn’t help but notice the relief in her mum’s eyes at his response; her whole body seemed to relax.
‘Thanks darling,’ her mum kissed him briefly on the lips. ‘See you later Georgie.’
Georgie reluctantly followed Nick from the kitchen. She definitely did not want a lift from him – that would mean ten minutes alone in a confined space.
Once they reached the front door, safely out of view of the kitchen, Nick grabbed her arm viciously.
‘Listen here, you little bitch,’ he snarled in her ear. ‘I don’t like being messed around.’
Georgie wanted to call to her mum, only nothing would come out of her dry throat.
‘Did you see your mum’s face?’ Nick asked tauntingly. ‘That’s just a taste of what I’ll do to her if you block your door again tonight. Understand.’
Georgie nodded, terrified.
‘Do you understand?’ Nick twisted her arm and Georgie bit back a cry of pain.
‘Yes,’ she gasped. ‘Yes!’
‘Good.’ He let go of her arm abruptly and gave her a rough shove towards the door. ‘You can walk to school, the exercise will do you good.’
Georgie fled the house and didn’t stop running until she was down the next road. Her chest heaved with sobs and her heart felt like it would burst. There was nothing she could do now.
When Georgie got home that evening, the chair was gone from her room – just in case the message hadn’t sunk in that morning.
Her mum made cheery small talk at the dinner table while Georgie miserably pushed her food around her plate. Nick smiled threateningly across the table at her and kept topping up her mum’s wine glass.
‘Are you trying to get me drunk?’ her mum laughed throatily.
‘Of course not,’ Nick grinned at her. ‘You’ve had a hard day at work; you deserve to relax. Why don’t you take the rest of the bottle and watch your soaps while I clean up out here.’
‘You’re an angel,’ her mum beamed at Nick then winked at Georgie. ‘I picked a good one here.’
Georgie wanted to scream. How could her mum be so blind? This man had hit her last night. The bruise was clearly visible even though she’d tried to cover it with a thick layer of make-up for work. He was making her daughter’s life a living hell but she was besotted with him.
Georgie followed her mum to the front room without looking at Nick. She could feel his eyes on her back as she left the kitchen.
Her mum drank her wine and commented about the soaps, only Georgie couldn’t focus on the TV. Her eyes kept flicking nervously to the clock above the fireplace, watching the minutes ticking by until bedtime. When Nick came in with more wine a little while later, Georgie excused herself and went to her room.
The empty space in front of her dressing table, where her chair should have been, taunted her mockingly. There was nothing else in the room that would work. Not that she could risk blocking him out again anyway, who knew what he was capable of doing to her mum.
Georgie knew he had been plying her with extra drink so she would pass straight out later and not be easily awoken. Georgie wasn’t stupid – she had learnt about sex in a class at school, and seen some things in films and books, but she was too young to fully comprehend the situation. She didn’t know what Nick wanted exactly, although she knew his behaviour was very seriously wrong.
Georgie had never even kissed a boy before. For the first time in a long time, she prayed. She’d used to pray that her dad had never been killed but that was impossible, maybe God could help with this one.
She sat on her bed with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She prayed Nick wouldn’t come to her room that night. That he would get drunk and pass out, or even that, sorry God, he would drop down dead.
At 10pm, Georgie climbed under her covers and lay rigidly. Waiting.
Some time later, she heard her mum noisily getting ready for bed. The clattering from the bathroom gave an indication of how drunk she was. Her mum closed the bedroom door with a loud bang, which sounded like the end of the world to Georgie.
The house was silent for a while. Georgie lay there, listening for the sound of Nick coming up the stairs. He was quieter than she’d anticipated because suddenly her bedroom door han
dle slid down and the door creaked open. She squeezed her eyes closed. There was no God.
She lay still, pretending to be asleep. The musky smell of Nick’s aftershave reached her nose and she was aware of him standing by her bed. He was breathing hard.
The bed sagged under his weight as he sat down on the edge. Georgie could hear her own heart pounding. The fear made her whole body ache and her bladder feel weak. Nick touched her arm lightly and Georgie jumped uncontrollably. Her breath caught in her throat.
‘Wakey wakey,’ Nick slurred.
She could smell the beer on his breath as he leaned down towards her face. He pressed his mouth hard over hers, mashing her lips against her teeth. Georgie tried to shake her head in protest but Nick grabbed her neck and held her still. He forced his tongue into her mouth, pushing through her grimace. Georgie bit the intruding tongue as hard as she could and Nick pulled away with a cry of pain.
‘You little bitch!’ he growled.
He wound his hand tighter around her neck to grab a chunk of her hair and lifted her up from the bed. With his right hand, he slapped her across the face with a loud crack. Georgie’s head rocked back and she gasped at the stinging needles that spread across her cheek. Nick threw her back on the bed and leant down forcefully on her chest. Georgie felt the breath rush out of her and she lay pinned under his crushing arm. Nick gave a snigger in the darkness, which sent icicles of fear stabbing through the pit of her stomach.
‘I knew you’d be feisty,’ he whispered. ‘Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s not nice to tease?’
Georgie lay panting, trying to catch her breath; the fight temporarily knocked out of her. It was hopeless – he was too strong.
Nick kissed her again. She could feel his stubble scratching at her chin. She kept her mouth firmly closed in disgust. He leant back and lifted his weight from her chest. She took one sweet, deep breath before his left hand clamped over her mouth. With his free hand Nick yanked up her pyjama top.
Georgie struggled underneath him. Her cries of protest muffled by his suffocating hand. He was partially covering her nose and she felt herself growing light-headed as it became harder and harder to breathe.
‘Quiet now,’ Nick murmured menacingly. ‘Or mummy is going to suffer tomorrow.’
Georgie stopped fighting. The shock was setting in and she felt removed from the situation as Nick’s eager hands groped at her developing breasts. She imagined herself somewhere far away from there as he tugged down her pyjama bottoms. Somewhere safe.
Nick moaned in her ear as he touched her between her legs, and wriggled out of his jeans and boxers. With one last effort in battle, Georgie clenched her legs together, anything to keep him out. But he overpowered her with ease. The searing pain as he forced himself inside her killed off the last of her energy. It was excruciating, unlike anything she’d ever felt. White-hot fire burned through her pelvis.
She sobbed quietly against his hand. Please stop, she begged desperately.
It seemed to last for an eternity. Each thrust sending a cruel ache through her body. Finally, Nick gave one last, loud grunt and collapsed on top of her.
He removed his hand from her face and got up from the bed, pulling up his pants and jeans. Georgie watched him in the gloom through glassy eyes. He ran his hands through his greasy hair.
‘There,’ he panted for no reason.
He stepped back towards the bed and she cowered away.
‘If you say anything to anyone, I will kill your mum and then I will kill you.’ His face was inches from hers and his sour breath tickled her cheek. ‘Slowly.’
He kissed her almost gently on the forehead and was gone.
Georgie lay motionless for hours with his semen and her blood trickling down the inside of her thighs, unable to believe what had just happened.
Was that rape? Or was rape only if it was a stranger?
Soft, heartbroken cries poured from her throat and tears of helplessness streamed down her cheeks.
Finally she plucked up enough courage to go to the bathroom to clean up. Her insides ached and it burned when she went for a wee, a sharp pain that made her bite her lip to stop the scream.
The dishevelled girl in the mirror looked solemnly back at her. There was an angry red mark across her mouth and cheek, and the skin there felt tender to touch. Sorrow filled her eyes. There was no help for her.
The rape carried on for the next couple of months. Sometimes Nick wouldn’t come into her room for days, other times it was every night. The not knowing was even worse for Georgie. She lay awake every evening, listening for the sound of him at her door. Would he come tonight? Would he leave her alone?
Even when she thought she heard him go to bed, her mind still played tricks on her. She tortured herself by thinking maybe he was just pretending and he would be out in a minute to pay her a visit.
Georgie lost weight dramatically. She had gone from binge eating to barely eating at all. She developed dark circles under her eyes from a lack of sleep, and her cheeks were always pale. She scrubbed herself vigorously in the shower every day, until her skin was raw, and that left flaky red patches on her body. Anything to feel clean again.
Her mum didn’t notice. Lily Duncan was too far along the alcoholic path to realise her daughter was being abused. That it was happening right under her nose, by a man she had brought into their lives.
Georgie’s teachers grew concerned. They thought it was bullying at the school that was causing Georgie to be so withdrawn. Although her grades were still good so they couldn’t take much action. They tried to talk to her in their offices but got nowhere – Georgie wouldn’t show them any emotion, wouldn’t tell them anything. She knew what he would do to her mum if she told anyone.
Nick had described to her at length all the different ways he could hurt them. Sometimes he would sit by her bed and recount these sadistic thoughts while Georgie lay terrified. It was just another of his ways to torture her.
One Friday evening, Georgie sat trembling in the bathroom with a ticking bomb in her hands. Nick was on a night out with his friends, and her mum was downstairs with her best one, Mr Smirnoff, so she was temporarily left in peace.
Georgie stared at the plastic tube in her hand. There were thirty seconds left. She looked away – she couldn’t bear to see the result. She had started her periods when she was twelve years old and they had been erratic at first then become regular. She hadn’t had one for over two months now. It was only when she began to feel queasy and started throwing up in the last couple of weeks that it had occurred to her – was she pregnant? The thought of carrying Nick’s baby made her physically sick.
Georgie had gone to a chemist after school – one far away from her house where no one knew her. She had even changed in a public toilet so no one would see her uniform. She had come straight home to the bathroom with the pregnancy test. It had taken a while to wee on the little stick as she was so nervous, but she had bitten the bullet a couple of minutes ago.
Now it was time.
Georgie looked at the test. She had forked out for one of the digital ones so there would be no misunderstanding. The screen said ‘pregnant’. It was written there in black and white. Pregnant.
To her surprise, Georgie wasn’t reduced to a quivering wreck at the result. Instead, she felt a deep rage building inside her, stronger than anything she’d felt before.
She yanked open the bathroom door and marched straight for the stairs, holding the taunting stick out in front of her. She burst into the living room, causing her mum to spill her wine, and stood directly in front of her. She looked her mum straight in the eye.
‘Your boyfriend is a paedophile.’ The word tasted bitter in her mouth. ‘He’s been coming into my room and raping me. Now I’m pregnant.’
Her voice sounded distant to her ears, as if it wasn’t her talking.
Her mum looked up at her with wide eyes. She opened her mouth a couple of times but nothing came out. Georgie waited. The silence between t
hem grew longer and the TV prattled on in the background.
‘You’re lying,’ her mum said finally, with a vigorous shake of her head.
Her response was like a slap in the face to Georgie. Not outrage at her daughter’s revelation, not concern for her wellbeing, an accusation instead.
‘You think I’m lying about being raped?’ Georgie exploded. ‘About that disgusting man putting his hands on me?’ She launched the pregnancy test into the air and it bounced off her mum’s shoulder.
Her mum flinched but didn’t look down at it. Her eyes had a glazed look, as if she was on something stronger than just alcohol.
‘Do you even care about me at all?’ Georgie screamed. ‘I’m fourteen! He’s taken everything from me. Now I’m fucking pregnant!’
Her mum’s face contorted with anger then she struggled up from the sofa and lunged at Georgie. For a second, Georgie thought she was going to embrace her in a fierce hug; instead her mum grabbed her arm roughly and slapped her hard across the face.
‘You whore!’ she hissed, panting. ‘You horrible little bitch! You’ve stolen my man.’
Georgie stood dumbfounded as her mum swayed drunkenly in front of her.
‘You were after him from the start! You tried and tried to lure him into bed until he couldn’t resist. I bet you’ve been laughing at me behind my back. Now you’ve got what I want! You took Nick’s baby from me!’
Georgie shoved her away and her mum tumbled backwards onto the sofa. There were tears and snot running down her blotchy face. Georgie’s vision blurred as her own eyes filled with tears.
‘How can you say those things? I’m your daughter… I’d never…’ Georgie whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. ‘I never wanted any of this. He said he would kill you if I told anyone. That time he hit you was a warning for me to keep quiet. But I can’t anymore. Not now. I need your help mum.’
Georgie searched her mum’s face desperately for any sign she was listening but her mum appeared to be looking straight through her.
‘Mum, please?’ Georgie begged.
