Escape From Evil - Cathy Wilson [38]
Well, by accident or design, Mark had found my weakness. Being hanged from a steeple, it turned out, really was my worst nightmare. But I also knew he’d discovered Mum’s weakness a long, long time ago. Her Achilles’ heel was much closer to home.
Me.
I hadn’t picked up on it at first, not in the early days, when the men had tried to appear nice in front of me. I’d see Mum arguing and then she’d suddenly go quiet. Often one of the men would have mentioned my name. I hadn’t put two and two together at the time, but now the sums all added up. Whenever she wouldn’t stay in line, they’d make a suggestion about me. That was the only thing she couldn’t fight. I was the stick they were using to beat her with.
That dawning realization almost sent me crazy. My initial reaction was: I have to get away. Things would be easier for Mum if I weren’t here. I could go to Granny’s. She’d let me stay. Then the men would stop hurting Mum.
But what if they didn’t? That was even worse. At least in the same flat I could monitor what was going on. I can protect her if I’m here. I don’t know what exactly I thought a seven-year-old could do to help, but in my mind it seemed things had to be better in the long run if we stayed together.
Looking back, these same thoughts must have been running through Mum’s mind as well. I thought I was so in control, but she was the one protecting me. I didn’t know what she did when I was made to sleep, but I know now that it was for my benefit.
Realizing that the men were using Mum’s love for me to manipulate her had a weird effect on me. Partly, I felt ashamed, as though I were somehow on the men’s side. Partly, though, I felt such a swell of pride. To think Mum would put herself through so much pain for me. Her sacrifice still brings a lump to my throat all these years later.
It was a very emotional time. One thing was clear, however. I swore that I would never, ever let myself be blackmailed like this by anyone. Even as a child that was obvious.
Don’t give anyone the opportunity to control you, like they control Mum.
If only I’d listened to my own advice . . .
After the spires threat, everything seems to have become jumbled in my memory. Lots of things happened at once, all as horrific as each other in their own way.
One day Brian appeared more attentive than usual. He also seemed very drunk. I know now it was the effects of marijuana, but in those days I didn’t really associate any strange behaviour with the joints I was rolling. I didn’t see, either, that this explained Mum’s up-and-down behaviour – sleepy, mellow or hyper-hyper. It’s obvious to me now that her moods were drug-related.
‘Get your coat,’ Brian said, the words more slurred than I’d ever heard. ‘We’re going for a walk.’
I looked at Mum and she looked back. We both knew what would happen if I resisted. So, weird as it was, I got ready and out we went.
‘Where are we going?’
‘To the park. You like parks, don’t you?’
Of course I did. I had such happy memories of illicit meetings with Mum at one. But why did this unpleasant man want to go to one with me? More strangely, why did he want to go for a walk when he was struggling to stay upright?
Preston Park itself is pretty huge, so I didn’t know if we would go to the playground part of it. Eventually we found ourselves at the rockery, apparently the largest rock garden in the country, even then. It’s really beautiful and you can get lost in the wonderful scenery, but as I splashed my way through the puddles there was only one thought in my mind.
Why has he brought me here?
Deep down, I knew the answer, or at least a variation of it. He was going to touch me again, like he did in my bedroom sometimes. For some reason, though, he didn’t want to be near his mates.
The more I thought about it, the more terrified I became. I couldn’t imagine what his intentions were, but if he wanted privacy from his equally disgusting friends then, I convinced myself,