Punished: A mother’s cruelty. A daughter’s survival. A secret that couldn’t be told. by Vanessa Steel
Authors: Vanessa Steel
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lots of little girls,’ and a third said, ‘You’re lucky it doesn’t really hurt.’ As usual, it was hard to know what to think.
Still, I hated the taste, the feel and the smell of it. It made me feel dirty and horrible, as though I was a disgusting person and it was all my own fault it was happening.
* * *
One of the saddest side-effects of this was that I began to avoid being alone with Granddad Casey when we were over at their house in Rugeley. I stopped going to band the pigeons with him or collect eggs for breakfast from the farm. I never asked him to spin the spinning top any more or play games with me and I avoided being alone in a room with him at all times. I have a clear memory of the hurt look in his eyes one time when he asked if I’d like to go for a walk and I said ‘No, thanks’ and ran to hide behind Nan.
He could have had no idea why I was behaving in that way after the close, jokey relationship we’d had before. I feel bad about it now. I just knew in my six-year-old head that it would break my heart if Granddad Casey asked me to stroke or suck the thing between his legs and I decided never to put myself in a position where that might conceivably happen.
Chapter 14
W e visited our grandparents on alternate weekends, usually on Saturday afternoons when Dad was playing sport. Every second weekend when I was at Nan Casey’s I’d run to the farm to find Fifi. We played skipping games, hopscotch, teachers or doctors and nurses; and we helped with farmyard chores or baked cakes in Nan’s kitchen. Sometimes I looked at Fifi’s happy little face and wondered if she had to put up with all the things I did – the beatings, being locked in a cupboard and the disgusting sausage games I had to play with Grandpa Pittam every other Saturday. I would have liked to talk to her about it all but I didn’t know how to bring it up. Also, I was scared that it would make her think badly of me and maybe she wouldn’t be my friend any more, so I said nothing and just enjoyed the hours of respite from my other cares.
My seventh birthday came and went. Mum never gave a birthday party for me, but it was just as well because Fifi remained my only friend so it would have been a very small party. Around this time Nigel and I were dropping hints to some of the adults we knew about what was going on at home, but it seemed that no one believed us.
One Sunday we were in the kitchen at Rugeley when Granddad came in with an armful of garden canes, ready to stake out some plants. Instinctively Nigel shouted ‘Run! Nessa, run!’
I sprinted out the kitchen door and found a hiding place behind the sofa in the front room, my heart beating so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest.
‘What on earth is wrong, young man? Is this a game of some kind?’ Granddad asked him.
‘Please don’t beat Nessa,’ Nigel asked.
Granddad called Nan into the room straight away and when she heard what had been said, she came to find me. I trusted her absolutely and knew for a fact that she would never have beaten me, so I let her lead me back into the kitchen, where Granddad’s canes lay in an untidy heap on the floor. He looked very hurt and upset that I had been scared of him. He had no idea why I had changed so much in the way I was with him. Nan pulled me on to her lap on the rocking chair and wrapped her plump arms around me, kissing my hair.
‘Now what are you two on about?’ she asked. ‘Will someone please explain?’
I said nothing, just stared down at my hands. After a while, Nigel said, ‘Mummy beats Nessa with canes just like these. I thought Granddad was going to beat her.’
Nan and Granddad looked at each other in horror. ‘Are you sure she beats you with canes?’ Nan asked me directly, in a kind voice. She swivelled me on her lap so she was looking into my eyes. ‘Is that really true?’
I nodded very slowly, feeling nervous. What if they told Mum? I no longer believed that any other adult couldprotect
Still, I hated the taste, the feel and the smell of it. It made me feel dirty and horrible, as though I was a disgusting person and it was all my own fault it was happening.
* * *
One of the saddest side-effects of this was that I began to avoid being alone with Granddad Casey when we were over at their house in Rugeley. I stopped going to band the pigeons with him or collect eggs for breakfast from the farm. I never asked him to spin the spinning top any more or play games with me and I avoided being alone in a room with him at all times. I have a clear memory of the hurt look in his eyes one time when he asked if I’d like to go for a walk and I said ‘No, thanks’ and ran to hide behind Nan.
He could have had no idea why I was behaving in that way after the close, jokey relationship we’d had before. I feel bad about it now. I just knew in my six-year-old head that it would break my heart if Granddad Casey asked me to stroke or suck the thing between his legs and I decided never to put myself in a position where that might conceivably happen.
Chapter 14
W e visited our grandparents on alternate weekends, usually on Saturday afternoons when Dad was playing sport. Every second weekend when I was at Nan Casey’s I’d run to the farm to find Fifi. We played skipping games, hopscotch, teachers or doctors and nurses; and we helped with farmyard chores or baked cakes in Nan’s kitchen. Sometimes I looked at Fifi’s happy little face and wondered if she had to put up with all the things I did – the beatings, being locked in a cupboard and the disgusting sausage games I had to play with Grandpa Pittam every other Saturday. I would have liked to talk to her about it all but I didn’t know how to bring it up. Also, I was scared that it would make her think badly of me and maybe she wouldn’t be my friend any more, so I said nothing and just enjoyed the hours of respite from my other cares.
My seventh birthday came and went. Mum never gave a birthday party for me, but it was just as well because Fifi remained my only friend so it would have been a very small party. Around this time Nigel and I were dropping hints to some of the adults we knew about what was going on at home, but it seemed that no one believed us.
One Sunday we were in the kitchen at Rugeley when Granddad came in with an armful of garden canes, ready to stake out some plants. Instinctively Nigel shouted ‘Run! Nessa, run!’
I sprinted out the kitchen door and found a hiding place behind the sofa in the front room, my heart beating so hard I thought it would burst out of my chest.
‘What on earth is wrong, young man? Is this a game of some kind?’ Granddad asked him.
‘Please don’t beat Nessa,’ Nigel asked.
Granddad called Nan into the room straight away and when she heard what had been said, she came to find me. I trusted her absolutely and knew for a fact that she would never have beaten me, so I let her lead me back into the kitchen, where Granddad’s canes lay in an untidy heap on the floor. He looked very hurt and upset that I had been scared of him. He had no idea why I had changed so much in the way I was with him. Nan pulled me on to her lap on the rocking chair and wrapped her plump arms around me, kissing my hair.
‘Now what are you two on about?’ she asked. ‘Will someone please explain?’
I said nothing, just stared down at my hands. After a while, Nigel said, ‘Mummy beats Nessa with canes just like these. I thought Granddad was going to beat her.’
Nan and Granddad looked at each other in horror. ‘Are you sure she beats you with canes?’ Nan asked me directly, in a kind voice. She swivelled me on her lap so she was looking into my eyes. ‘Is that really true?’
I nodded very slowly, feeling nervous. What if they told Mum? I no longer believed that any other adult couldprotect
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