Teach Me

Chapter Thirty Three

Leaning back in his seat Jack looked closely at Eliana's pale face. She hadn't touched the tea he had brought her and was anxiously pinching at her hands. Jack had pulled out copies of her statement from twenty years earlier and she had read them silently, her face creased with anxiety as she read what she had written then. Finally she had looked across at him miserably.

"Does it still read as being accurate?" he asked and she sighed, shrugging.

"It's so long ago, Jack. I was eight! And because it's what I wrote down at the time it's kind of what is fixed in my head whether it is accurate or not."

"How about you try telling me everything you can remember, in as much detail as you can?" Jack said. "I know you've just read what you wrote and it will be fresh in your mind but if you try adding in all the detail it might help? I can record it for you and have it transcribed if you want?"

"I guess it might help," she said, quietly. "I don't mind trying."

"If it gets too much tell me and we'll stop, ok?"

"Ok." He smiled at her reassuringly and put a fresh tape into the recorder, then looked at her questioningly. Eliana nodded and he pressed the record button. "Mum picked me up early from school. She told the office I had an appointment and they agreed to let her take me. I could smell alcohol on her when I came out. I was wearing a gingham dress and blue shoes; the dress was the perfect size; it was a hand me down from my neighbour. The shoes pinched my toes a little and I couldn't wait to get home so I could take them off. I was hoping Daddy was home because I hadn't seen him for a few days but I was worried that if he was home I might have to go down to the basement with Mum while his friends were there. Mum was in a really good mood as we headed home. She stopped by one of our neighbour's houses. I didn't like him; he was tall and skinny, with a shaved head and tattoos. Dad hated him; he called him Fucking Franky. I repeated it once and Mum smacked me in the mouth; I didn't know it was rude or inappropriate. Dad went mad when he found out she'd hit me and he slapped her several times. I was glad; thought it served her right." Eliana blinked. "I'm sorry, this probably isn't relevant."

"It might be. Carry on," Jack encouraged.

"So we went to Franky's house and he had this little package for Mum. I asked what it was and she told me it was sugar, laughing her head off. Of course now I know it was drugs but I had no concept of drugs then. Franky kissed her, put his hand up her skirt and she let him, told me to stop looking at her; I guess I couldn't help staring because I knew that only Dad should be touching her like that. When we got home she told me to watch TV for a bit while she sorted things out. She went upstairs and I could hear her banging around. When she came down she had some bags; I was confused. I thought we were going to the launderette; the washing machine had broken weeks ago but she hadn't had it fixed or sorted a new one. I remember feeling aggrieved because I hated the launderette. It was always hot and the smell made me feel sick. And old ladies would try to talk to me and it made me uncomfortable. I told her I didn't want to go and she just grabbed my hand, gave me a shake, called me a silly little bitch and told me to hurry up. She said we had to get out before Dad got home.

"I guess then I knew what she had planned and I told her I didn't want to go. She was really angry then, asked me if I wanted to spend the rest of my life being locked up and starved in the basement. I remember she got on her knees in front of me, holding my hands and telling me if we didn't leave Dad was going to end up locking us down there and forgetting us and then we'd both be dead. She said we had to go before he got home or he'd kill us both. I remember I told her I didn't want to wear those blue shoes and she laughed at me, told me to wear my trainers. I'd just got them on and was putting my coat on when the door opened. I remember Mum's face completely drained of colour.  When people say that it's hard to picture unless you've actually seen it.