by Nicole Trope
It is a simple enough question and I know she is looking for a simple answer. I could tell her about all the reading I’ve been doing. I can be on the internet for hours, reading stories and papers about paedophiles. I can tell her about how some people think it’s genetic and others think it comes from abuse in childhood and then there are those who think it is all about control and power but that’s not what she wants to hear. She wants to know why and so in the end I give her the only answer I can.
‘Because we let him,’ I say.
And then I leave.
Benjamin is waiting for me outside the hospital. He is the bodyguard my children have insisted upon. No one can get near me. Ben holds out a huge hand and clears a path through journalists and interested people alike. Next week I shall go to Greece for an extended period of time. I will return when I’m no longer of any interest to anyone in this country. I have bought a house there and my girls will bring their children to visit.
I cannot remember who we were and what our lives were like before all this began. My therapist, Donald, has told me that the only solution is to move forward, to always move forward.
Once I had recovered enough to speak I made sure that I explained everything to the police because I understood immediately. The moment I recognised Felicity I understood. They have taken it into account and according to her sister it is also connected with her original crime of assault against her mother. She has been so angry with the women who were supposed to keep her safe. It is, I think, entirely justified.
I didn’t tell her that Eric has set up a trust fund for her and her daughter. I have spoken to her sister Lila about it. I’m sure she will explain it all to her.
‘You don’t need to do that,’ said Portia. ‘It wasn’t you, it was him, and the money won’t bring back her childhood.’
‘You’re right about that. It is perhaps the smallest gesture I can make, but I must make it.’
Eric has set up a fund to award all the other women small payouts as well. There have been some rumblings on the internet about me buying their silence, but I cannot listen to all that. I do not want them silenced.
I just want them to know that they have been heard.
Chapter Twenty-five
I am writing a letter to Isabel when the nurse comes in and tells me that I have a visitor.
‘Who is it?’ I ask, but she just waves her hand at me and walks out. The nurses here are less friendly than the guards in prison were. Maybe they get tired of crazy.
Only Lila comes to visit me here so I think it will be Lila and I hope that she has brought Isabel with her even though I’ve asked her not to. I don’t want Isabel to see me in here, but I miss her so much my chest hurts. Rose came to visit me once but I don’t think she will come again. Rose’s voice is strange now. She is different. I have made her different. I thought I would feel happy about that but I don’t.
Dr Lin told me today that I’m going home soon. He is very pleased with me. I am a good patient. I’m not like I was with Emily and Henrietta. I haven’t hidden anything from Dr Lin. He knows all my secrets and he is still pleased with me. I talk to Dr Lin all the time about the bubbling anger, but now when I talk about it I don’t feel it. The Felicity who had all the bubbling anger inside her feels like someone else, not me.
‘You have every right to feel angry and betrayed,’ said Dr Lin when I told him about Mr Winslow and the finches.
‘Emily said that I have to forgive my mum and forgive my dad. She wanted me to forgive everyone.’
‘That may be what you eventually have to do, Felicity, but first you need to know that you have a right to feel angry. Anyone in your situation would feel angry.’
‘Even a clever person?’
‘Especially a clever person.’
I try not to think about Mr Winslow turning into the raggedy man, but sometimes the thoughts come into my head and I can feel his hands all over me and I feel heavy and sad. Then Dr Lin says that I must think about something that makes me feel better. I think about Isabel and Jess and Lila. He also made me write about the raggedy man. ‘This will help,’ he said when he gave me a notebook and a bendy pencil that can’t hurt anyone. ‘I don’t have to read it unless you want me to, but it will help.’
I didn’t want to write about Mr Winslow turning into the raggedy man, but one night when I couldn’t sleep I started to write about the finches, because I worry about them and I miss them. I wrote and wrote and wrote. I don’t think I have spelled all the words the right way but Dr Lin says that doesn’t matter. I wrote about the finches at the Farm and then I wrote about the finches in Mr Winslow’s cage and then I wrote about the raggedy man. My hand got sore but I kept writing until my eyes wanted to close. Now if the bubbling anger starts to come back I know I can write it all down. Dr Lin is very pleased with my writing.
Jess is home with her girls now and she has a job at a nursery. She writes me letters and when I go home me and Isabel will go and visit her and her girls.
I walk into the common room and look around for Lila but she is not there. I turn around to leave and then I realise that someone is there to visit me.
My mother is sitting in a chair by the window. I want to turn around and walk right back out, but Dr Lin is there too, talking to the parents of one of the other patients, and I know that he’s seen me. I don’t want anything to get in the way of my release. I also don’t want to have to discuss again what I did to my mother.
I sit down opposite her.
She is wearing one of those parachute tracksuits that old people like and I can see that she’s lost a lot of weight. She’s never been fat but now even her bones look small. I have also lost weight and now Mum and I look a lot like each other. Her face is also lopsided. I did a lot of damage.
When I see her all I feel is ashamed. She looks broken. I broke her. I don’t know what to say and all that comes out of my mouth is, ‘Oh, Mum, I’m so sorry.’
I put my head in my hands because there is no way I can stop myself from crying. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I say over and over again so that she will understand.
‘Oh, Felicity—oh, sweetheart, please stop crying. Please stop or I’ll start and then everyone will think we’re crazy.’
That makes us both laugh.
‘I am crazy, Mum.’
‘Rubbish. You’ve just had a bad time, and you’re getting better. Lila says that you’re coming home soon.’
I nod.
‘Before you do I wanted to . . . I wanted to make things right. I know it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. I wish you would have let me visit you. There was so much I wanted to say.’
I nod my head to let her know that I am ready to listen.
‘You’re my child, Felicity. No matter how old you get, you will always be my child. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me—’
‘I didn’t,’ I say. ‘I really didn’t, I just got so angry.’
‘Listen, love, you need to let me finish.’
I want to keep talking but I bite my lip instead.
‘I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry, Felicity. I’m sorry for saying that to Isabel. I know that nothing is more important than she is and I know that if she said Lester was . . . was touching her, then he was. You believed her and I tried to make light of it, and I’ve had a lot of time to think about that, and I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry that I didn’t protect you the way you protected your child. I shouldn’t have let you go anywhere near him.’
After I told Dr Lin about Mr Winslow and the finches, I told Lila. She was sad and angry and she cried. ‘It’s good he’s dead,’ she said, ‘or I would have to kill him.’
‘I should have told Mum,’ I said to Lila.
‘Maybe you tried. I don’t know. I don’t remember much about that time.’
‘We have to tell about Lester,’ I said. ‘Even if Isabel is scared I have to make her tell. Lester mustn’t be allowed to hurt any more children.’
‘Oh, Fliss, you’ve
got so much stuff to deal with.’
‘I know, but I didn’t want Isabel to be hurt by Lester. I don’t think any other mother wants their child hurt by Lester.’
‘I’ll see what I can do. I’ll make sure that someone finds out. I’ll take care of it and you concentrate on getting better. That’s all you need to do now.’
I knew Lila would tell Mum about Mr Winslow.
‘You couldn’t have known, Mum,’ I say. ‘At first I even liked going there and you were—’
‘I was a stupid woman more concerned with myself than my own child. You told me you didn’t like the finches. You told me that you didn’t want to go to his finch cage anymore, and instead of questioning you further, instead of investigating, I ignored you. I didn’t want to know and I didn’t want to listen. I’m sorry I let you down.’
‘I’m sorry I hit you.’
‘Let’s leave that now, let’s just leave it behind us. I want you and Isabel to come back and live with me. I want to take care of her again. I know I didn’t do a good job with you and Lila, and I want to do better with Isabel. I want to be a good grandmother. I want to be as good a grandmother as you are a mother. You’re a good mother, Felicity.’
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I am a good mother. I love Isabel and I can see her and I can hear her, and whatever happens I can help her. You didn’t see me.’
‘I let you down. You were so little and I let you down, but you didn’t let Isabel down. You listened and you believed and you didn’t let her down.’
‘I didn’t, did I? She didn’t have to eat the bear alone.’
‘She what?’ says my mother, and then she smiles because she remembers. ‘No, she didn’t have to eat the bear alone, because you were there—and if you let me I will be there too and together we can all eat the bear.’
‘And drink the witch,’ I say.
‘And cut the giant’s head off.’
‘And cure the doctor.’
Mum laughs. ‘Yes, we’ll do all that, and we’ll make sure that Isabel never has to worry and that she never has to scream or scurry.’
‘Say it, Mum,’ I say. ‘Say it all.’
Mum takes a deep breath and I can see her thinking about the words. I want to help her but I don’t because I know she knows them. She knows them all. She pats my hand and smiles.
‘Isabel met an enormous bear . . .’ begins Mum.
Other titles by Nicole Trope
Three Hours Late
The Secrets in Silence
The Boy Under the Table
Roar (short story)
Acknowledgements
Thanks, as always to Jane and the team at Allen & Unwin
To my lovely editors Clara Finlay and Belinda Lee
To Gaby Naher for her continuous support
To Jake Marusich for his help on the law questions
My mother for her beta reading
And as always to David and the cherubs
And finally to all the children, past and present,
who have been hurt:
Do not be silenced, do not be hushed
Sing little birds. Sing.
