Mom never did anything about Steven so I didn’t tell her about Damon’s touching. I was too embarrassed.
I guess that when Dad heard Anthony and me talking about having no clean running water at home and going to the neighbours for food, he must have called in the welfare.
I do remember him asking us if we wanted to live with him. Certainly his home was infinitely better than Mom’s, so I guess I said yes. It’s all rather a blur now but I remember some women coming to talk to us and then a man in a dark suit made me write my name on some documents before the end of the school holidays.
We went back to Mom and Adrian’s place when term began but a few days later a letter arrived in the post. I remember Mom read the letter to herself over and over and then raged at me. I’d no idea why – after all I hadn’t sent the letter! She said I’d rejected her and hurt her feelings and if we wanted Dad we could have him. Well, at least we got to move away from Rose’s house and disgusting Damon.
We moved in with Joanne and Dad and living with them was quite nice to begin with. We each had our own room and Dad had a pool and we got toys and new clothes. Then Anthony had to move out and share my room while Joanne prepared his room for the baby. I thought that was unfair as the baby could have had the sewing room. After Susie was born, Joanne became less interested in us and seemed to get mad at me for everything.
Joanne and Dad decided that Anthony was going to attend a government co-ed school down the road but I had to go off to a Convent. When I asked our neighbour’s six year old daughter who attended the Convent what it was like, I heard her say, “It’s got only girls and nun teachers.” Perplexed, I wondered how a school could have no teachers. In retrospect, that would have been funny if my reality of the school and the nuns had not turned out to be so awful.
Friday 25 September 1987
Life with Dad and Joanne is not going well. Dad and Joanne don’t fight the way Dad and Mom used to, but Dad is really mean and bad tempered. I seem to make him angry all the time and he beats me often. When he leaves bruises he says I can’t swim at school. Last week he wrote a note that said my costume was lost and the teacher said I could use a spare school costume. I said ‘no’ and so the teachers now think I’m cheeky. I just have to take whatever punishment the gym teacher has up her sleeve on those days.
At home Joanne is spiteful to me and her words are cruel.
Now some other stuff is starting to happen to me – stuff that upsets me – stuff that happens mainly in the night. Stuff like Damon did. But worse.
One day, after a Religion class about confession, I mustered all my courage and tried to tell the nun about what was going on at home. I stayed back after the class had been dismissed and asked the nun if I could ‘confess something’.
She looked at me suspiciously and immediately I wished I hadn’t said a thing. She crossed herself and said, “What is it?” She was so cold and angry that I should have run – but I froze and followed orders. I blurted out, “My Dad beats me badly … and sometimes he leaves bruises so I can’t swim and I have to lie about them … and my stepmother, Joanne hates me ….” That was all I managed to tell her when some instinct made me glance up. I saw her horrified lips grow thin and pale. My ‘confession’ ended then and there … and I hadn’t even got to the really bad part yet!
She snarled down at me like a hungry tiger and said, “You disgusting, ungrateful little liar! How dare you talk about your father like that? He’s a good man and it’s one of God’s commands that parents discipline their children! He has a right to spank you when you’re naughty! And how dare you lie to your swimming teacher!” With that, God’s chosen woman pulled me up by my collar, slapped me across the face and swept out of the room, saying, “Your father will hear about this!”
That afternoon when Joanne arrived to collect me from school, I could sense that I was in trouble. Joanne was icy and silent. As soon as Dad walked in, Joanne hissed, “We have to talk! To the lounge, both of you!”
Joanne began coldly but soon she was screeching. “Do you know what this little witch of a daughter has done to us? She has ruined this family’s good name and your reputation at school. Today she told Sister Theresa that we … you … beat her and leave bruises … and … listen to this … and that I am a mean and cruel stepmother to her! What kind of perfect princess does she think she is?”
Dad’s face turned red, and Joanne, the hungry lioness, pounced. She laid hold of my shoulders, screaming, “How dare you, Jane? What happens in the home stays in the home!” She shook me like a dead rabbit.
Suddenly Dad raged, “Let the child go!” Momentarily I thought I was safe. Wrong! In the next second he lunged. My cheek felt shattered as I reeled backwards across the table under the force of the blow he laid across my face. As I fell, I heard Joanne’s ranting voice: “That’s how you get all those bruises you idiot – you are so clumsy!” As I tried to get up, I thought it was over but Dad took off his belt, and there and then, he gave me a lashing I would never forget….
“You see God!” I said into the darkness that night. “I trusted that nun and look what happened. She was meant to be a good person. And I trusted you but you did nothing to stop it! And you’re supposed to be all-powerful! What a joke.”
Chapter 4
“Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.”
Proverbs 13:12
The hostel bell buzzed out rude and loud. Prefects’ shrill voices were yelling from the corridors. I opened my eyes and looked around. Oh yes, what a relief. I was at boarding school. Safe! It was really early so the room was still dim but an electrifying crescendo of pots and pans being beaten chaotically ripped through the air.
“What time is it?”
“Five o’clock. Go back to sleep,” muttered Megan but the door burst open.
“Rise and shine, ‘Newbies’, it’s time for your exercise classes!”
I jumped up trembling in both fear and excitement. Something grand was about to happen, I was sure of it. Three or four more prefects clanged into the dormitory still banging pots and pans.
“Out of bed, you lazy girls. It’s time to swim! Costumes on in two minutes and everybody bring a sports shoe with you,” commanded the head girl.
“Yes Miss Brewster!” we all chorused in response. (For that first week only, we had to give the prefects titles.) In no time, I was wearing my blue school bathing costume. I groped around under the bed for a shoe. Where were my jolly sports shoes?
Suddenly someone gasped, “Where on earth did you get that huge bruise on your thigh, Jane?”
Tinkie whistled. “Yikes! What have you been doing? I last had one like that when my dad’s horse chucked me over a fence!”
I wriggled out from under the bed, shoe in hand and looked at the raised purple and yellow patch. I briefly attempted to cover it with my hand but the bruise was too large. Thanks Dad! He must have given me that last Thursday when I challenged him about karate. Anthony was allowed to go but I had to stay home to do my ‘chores’. Of course I knew that while Joanne was out with Anthony, no chores would get done and then Joanne would come home and start yelling at me. So I’d argued and this was the result.
“Oh stuff! I must have walked into something,” I lied. “Maybe it’s from karate.” Dad had turned me into quite a good liar. Now he wasn’t here to tell me what to do and I was going to swim anyway and enjoy the orientation. With a small feeling of triumph I grabbed my towel.
Soon we were being frog-marched in twos to the pool, each carrying a bathing cap, a towel and one shoe. January was seldom cold, even at five a.m. in this part of the country. We were ordered to line up and sit on the concrete steps that formed a spectators’ stand. In front, facing us was a line of prefects; behind was the sparkling blue pool. Nervously, Megan and I sat close together.
“Right girls,” Marsha began. “Which of you has a baby sister or brother at home?”
A few hands went up.
“Good! Well let’s have you, Piggytails!” I held my breath as the prefect pointed in our direction, but they were pointing to a pretty blonde girl next to Megan.
“Stand up and tell us your name.”
“Saskia Simpkins.”
“Well Saskia Pumpkins, have you ever helped your Mom with the baby?” Everyone giggled nervously at the name change.
“Yes, I help all the time.”
“Good! Now you girls are all going to find out what it is like to be a Mommy.” The prefects walked up and down the row like drill sergeants. “Each of you has a new-born baby shoe in your hand.” We started to look at each other and I heard a few more brave sniggers.
“Yes, you too, Saskia Piggytails Pumpkins, and look at the cruel way you are holding it!”
Saskia had the shoe by the laces. Girls began to relax and laugh.
“Now, Piggytails, you have to stop holding it by its hair, or it’ll start to yell. Place it gently on the towel and wrap it up nicely so that its face is showing and it can breathe,” instructed the prefect in condescending tones.
Saskia’s blue eyes grew bigger and she started to blush.
“Come on Piggytails, show us how!” called another prefect. Saskia’s hands were shaking but she managed to do it and even cast a smile at Megan and me. I smiled back nervously. Girls started to giggle. Soon the ‘shoe baby’ was wrapped up.
“Now, Saskia, can you hear your baby?”
“No.” answered Saskia, a little confused.
“Well I can! Oh come on, your baby is hungry. It’s yelling so loudly we can all hear it. Come on girls, help Saskia hear her baby.”
No-one made a sound. The head prefect pointed to another girl who’d put her hand up earlier.
“You, Carrot Tops. You have a baby sister. How do they sound when they cry?”
The red-haired girl turned scarlet.
“Oh you are all such wets. Come on – or you’ll do this every day at break next week in front of the whole school!” bellowed another hefty prefect with short curly hair and dark rimmed glasses.
Carrots made a mewling sound and the prefects laughed and clapped. “Louder! We still can’t hear it!” Gradually all the girls started to join in making baby mewling sounds. As we did, we started to giggle.
“Now rock them to sleep,” hollered another prefect.
“Waa…. They’re awake again…change their nappies…feed them.” To our mortification, they made us hold the shoes against our adolescent chests and ‘breast feed’ them!
The ritual went on for about an hour. Eventually the seniors bored of that and made us put the ‘shoe babies’ down to sleep.
We were ordered to swim lengths and a variety of childish races and games took place in the pool, using tubes and beach balls.
After swimming we had the most delicious breakfast I had ever tasted, probably all the more so because I was cold and starving.
Later that day, we were shown around the school buildings and taught to sing the school song along with a host of other ridiculous chants to scream out at the opposition in future sports meetings.
The prefects led most of the activities but there was the occasional presence of a member of staff to check that the orientation didn’t get out of hand. It gave us all time to talk and make friends, so for me, it was vital to record the events in my diary.
Friday 27 January 1989
I enrolled at my new school, St Catherine’s on Wednesday afternoon and in the evening orientation began for all of the new girls. It’s mostly been fun but the prefects also embarrass us a lot. We have to carry a new-born shoe baby everywhere we go and we have to look after it like a real baby. They even woke us up in the night to feed the babies!! So dumb! Cindy Williams dropped hers so it went to “hospital”. She had to visit it every hour. Now the prefects say it died so we have to have a funeral. It is kind of funny even if it is a bit sick.
Last night we had a film about Princess Diana. Matron Ruth organised pancakes for us afterwards. She is fierce but kind of nice. At least I’m having fun and there’s no-one here to touch me and spy and see what we are doing.
Of course ‘he’ already phoned me to check and ask ‘the question’ and I’ve only been here one day! How can he think I will tell anyone? I am so ashamed, I would rather die first. He asked if I love him. I said I do. I have to say that because of who he is… But I wish he would get out of my life.
We moved our room around to suit ourselves. We each have our own cupboard and bedside locker. There is a huge old wooden dressing table in each room for us to share.
My room-mates are Megan and Tinkie. Megan is an only child, and Tinkie has two older sisters who’ve left school already. Tinkie reminds me of Wendy on the farm. She’s plastered photographs of her horse and magazine cuttings of horses all over the wall beside her bed. I am sure I can smell horses when I look at Tinkie’s wall.
Megan has photographs of Princess Diana on every spare inch of her wall. I don’t have space for pictures as my bed is next to the window. But I don’t care. I can see the wide open spaces that make me feel free! Saskia is in the room next to ours.
There are twelve juniors’ rooms and a prefect’s room in each dormitory. We have three in each room. Our prefect is Debbie Van der Spuy. She is so beautiful with blonde hair and she could be a model. I wish I could look like her. Problem is she is not very nice to us. She is so bossy and makes the entire dorm of junior girls slave for her.
This term my job is going to be getting up in the morning to make Debbie coffee. She has a kettle in her room.
Megan has to get up and run her bath.
Tinkie has to warm the toilet seat early in the morning by sitting on it first. Can you believe that?!!!!!!
Carrots (no-one knows her real name), has to carry Debbie’s books to school and Saskia has to make her bed. All the prefects say they had to do it when they were juniors and we’ll get our turn later. Actually, I think prefects suck! But there is no point in complaining. As long as I wake Debbie on time with a cup of coffee made the way she likes it (she is really fussy) I will be okay.
All the other girls will arrive on Monday afternoon, and lessons start on Tuesday.
The bathroom here is a sort of dusty pink. The baths are quite old. The showers only have curtains separating them but luckily the toilets each have a door.
At least there is no one to look through the windows and watch me bath and I have a room to share with friends. No one can come in at night and upset me. It really is a wish-come-true.
Chapter 5
Amnon became frustrated to the point of illness
on account of his sister Tamar,
for she was a virgin,
…he grabbed her and said,
“Come to bed with me, my sister.”
2 Samuel 13:6 & 11
The first three weeks of school were wonderful. Like a bird that had fled its cage, I felt free at last. I could deal with the shoe-baby nonsense; I could laugh my way through my ‘mourning’ when it died and I conquered the early morning Phys. Ed. routine. I even managed to cope with the teasing from the prefects and some of the girls in my dorm. I was starting to understand the work in the classroom and I’d actually passed a couple of short tests.
Megan and Tinkie were becoming my friends (although I liked Megan more). We could laugh together at silly things and I was starting to get their jokes and even tease them back. Then at dinner three weeks after term began, Matron Ruth came to talk to all the girls in the dining room.
“Well girls I want to congratulate everybody involved in the ‘Newbies' programme’. I think the prefects did a great job and all of you are settling in well. So….” she smiled at us and looked around triumphantly, “… next weekend will be a closed one. That means the hostel closes and you all go home for a few days!”
The girls around me were cheering and clapping. I covered my ears as nausea swelled in my gut.
“Isn’t that great Jane?” Tinkie nudged me and I felt my throat
constrict.
“I’m going to gag!” I whispered and ran outside. Why did we have to go home so soon?
A voice behind me said, “Are you okay Jane?” Matron Ruth must have seen me leave.
“Um, um I feel sick. I can’t go home. I won’t be able to go home…”
“Of course you can, you’re probably just excited! Besides, if you’re ill your parents will be even happier to have you back home to nurse you and spoil you. You’ve been away three weeks already! And look at how often your Dad has phoned to see how you’re doing…”
“No! I don’t want to go home. My stepmother hates me. I have to go to work with my father and ….”
“Calm down,” matron cooed, patting me gently on the back. “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you, it’s just that she is busy with the babies…”
At that moment Megan came out of the dining hall. “Look after her Megan,” Matron called, but I pulled away and ran up to my room.
Friday 10 February 1989
Adults are always the same. They always take the side of other adults! That’s why you can’t tell them anything! They don’t understand and they don’t ever listen.
The rest of the week I had no appetite and continued to feel nauseous. Matron Sandy in sick bay gave me foul-tasting medicine and my friends told me I would be fine. Let them think what they wanted. I sure wasn’t telling them the truth.
On Friday afternoon, as we began the walk from the school buildings to the boarding establishment, we heard, “Toot, toot!” An old blue Mercedes drove up beside us. “Would you ladies like a lift?”
I knew the voice and my heart sank.
“Jane, it’s your dad!” shouted Tinkie. “And Joanne is not with him! Come on Megan, get in. Jane, go and say hello!” My two excited friends hopped in the back seat and I sauntered round to the front.
Unspoken - Kiss of the Wolf Spider, Part I Page 3
