had only one ounce of your kindness and gentleness then our childhood might have told another story. But the past is the past and now I look forward to the future with you in my world.
Karen, I love you.
Chapter Fifteen
R ING , R ING , R ING
THE YEAR BEFORE HELEN left was, by far, the worst – given what I'd already been through, that says a lot. Helen was constantly cross and miserable and the parties were more frequent and more horrific for me. I can't understand her justification or motive for any of this. I can only guess that behind the increase in parties and the appalling nature of the sexual attacks on me was some sort of reaction to how she perceived her life and home situation.
As always, I have many more questions than answers. Was she preparing to leave my Dad and somaking things worse for me as she knew she wouldn't have access to me soon? Was she punishing my Dad by punishing me? If that was the case, did he explicitly know what was going on? I know I'll never get to the bottom of it all.
There were a number of men involved in my abuse. Some of them I saw only once or twice, but there were also a few who repeatedly raped and abused me. I never knew their names, of course, and I barely saw what they looked like. Sometimes my room would be dark as I didn't have lots of natural light coming in, but at other times I just couldn't bear to look at them or even open my eyes at any point. I guess that just made it better for them – some of them must have wanted my fear and terror as much as they wanted what they were doing to me.
What I do remember is the smell of them.
And what they did to me.
What they, as grown men, chose to do to a child.
During the summer holidays when I was nine years old, the obscenities against me reached a new high. I spent most of my time in my bedroom that summer anyway, but there were huge differences in the experiences I had there. Sometimes, in the morning, I'd be told by Helen to 'get up and get up dressed'. I knew this meant there was a chance I might get out into the sunshine for a bit that day. I'd push baby Karen in the pram to the local shops and I'd go to the butcher's and the greengrocer's, and usually the baker's, before returning home. Once I got back, there wasn't much variety in what I was ordered to do. Helen would scream, 'Get to bed, you!' I'd do as I was told – I was well trained – and get out of my clothes, keeping my underwear on, before getting into bed.
What I did next would depend on what I could hear outside.
If there was no party going on or preparations under way, Helen would just want me out of her way for the rest of the day. On those days, I could usually sneak a book out from under my mattress and take it over to the closed door where I got the most daylight seeping through beneath the gap. I could manage to read quite a lot while Helen was busy in the living room. Sometimes, I could even draw if I had managed to hide a scrap of paper and a few pencils or crayons from the others. Helen would have gone ballistic if she'd caught me, but she usually preferred to ignore me completely if I was in my room. Nevertheless, I would continually listen and watch for someone coming near my room.
However, if I got back from the shops with Karen to the signs or sounds of a party being prepared, the day would be quite different, and I would long for the alternative of being left alone for hours on end with no food and no company. I'd hear her getting ready. The music would go on. I would get my usual command to get to bed, but on those days I would go there and sit bolt upright with my arms by my sides while things got under way. Some days, things would happen quickly; other times, it would take longer. I could be sitting there like that for minutes or for hours. I had no control over it, but I knew what was coming.
It's difficult to say exactly how many people were at these parties, but I'd guess around six at
Karen, I love you.
Chapter Fifteen
R ING , R ING , R ING
THE YEAR BEFORE HELEN left was, by far, the worst – given what I'd already been through, that says a lot. Helen was constantly cross and miserable and the parties were more frequent and more horrific for me. I can't understand her justification or motive for any of this. I can only guess that behind the increase in parties and the appalling nature of the sexual attacks on me was some sort of reaction to how she perceived her life and home situation.
As always, I have many more questions than answers. Was she preparing to leave my Dad and somaking things worse for me as she knew she wouldn't have access to me soon? Was she punishing my Dad by punishing me? If that was the case, did he explicitly know what was going on? I know I'll never get to the bottom of it all.
There were a number of men involved in my abuse. Some of them I saw only once or twice, but there were also a few who repeatedly raped and abused me. I never knew their names, of course, and I barely saw what they looked like. Sometimes my room would be dark as I didn't have lots of natural light coming in, but at other times I just couldn't bear to look at them or even open my eyes at any point. I guess that just made it better for them – some of them must have wanted my fear and terror as much as they wanted what they were doing to me.
What I do remember is the smell of them.
And what they did to me.
What they, as grown men, chose to do to a child.
During the summer holidays when I was nine years old, the obscenities against me reached a new high. I spent most of my time in my bedroom that summer anyway, but there were huge differences in the experiences I had there. Sometimes, in the morning, I'd be told by Helen to 'get up and get up dressed'. I knew this meant there was a chance I might get out into the sunshine for a bit that day. I'd push baby Karen in the pram to the local shops and I'd go to the butcher's and the greengrocer's, and usually the baker's, before returning home. Once I got back, there wasn't much variety in what I was ordered to do. Helen would scream, 'Get to bed, you!' I'd do as I was told – I was well trained – and get out of my clothes, keeping my underwear on, before getting into bed.
What I did next would depend on what I could hear outside.
If there was no party going on or preparations under way, Helen would just want me out of her way for the rest of the day. On those days, I could usually sneak a book out from under my mattress and take it over to the closed door where I got the most daylight seeping through beneath the gap. I could manage to read quite a lot while Helen was busy in the living room. Sometimes, I could even draw if I had managed to hide a scrap of paper and a few pencils or crayons from the others. Helen would have gone ballistic if she'd caught me, but she usually preferred to ignore me completely if I was in my room. Nevertheless, I would continually listen and watch for someone coming near my room.
However, if I got back from the shops with Karen to the signs or sounds of a party being prepared, the day would be quite different, and I would long for the alternative of being left alone for hours on end with no food and no company. I'd hear her getting ready. The music would go on. I would get my usual command to get to bed, but on those days I would go there and sit bolt upright with my arms by my sides while things got under way. Some days, things would happen quickly; other times, it would take longer. I could be sitting there like that for minutes or for hours. I had no control over it, but I knew what was coming.
It's difficult to say exactly how many people were at these parties, but I'd guess around six at
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