you rather play with the girls, Jodie?’ I asked. ‘I’m sure that would be much more fun, and I know the girls would like to hear all about your day at the shops.’
Jodie sighed, exhausted by my unreasonable demands. ‘Please, Cathy,’ she pleaded. ‘I been good?’
I reluctantly agreed, and let her take one of her Early Years videos upstairs. The girls went up to their rooms, and I could see they were a little hurt. Of course, they had no particular desire to play Barbie dolls with Jodie, but no one likes being rejected. Paula and Lucy had been trying to spend more time with Jodie, and to become her friends, but she was impossible to break through to. Most children, no matter how bad their behaviour, do essentially want to be liked, and to feel the approval of those around them. Jodie, on the other hand, simply couldn’t have cared less. When the girls wanted to play with her, she wasn’t pleased or flattered, and it didn’t even occur to her that she might hurt their feelings. She was completely oblivious.
Her relationship with Adrian was even more distant. Because of the nature of the abuse she had suffered, Jodie regarded all males in sexual terms, and would try to flirt with them, or rub provocatively up against them. There was nothing deliberate about this, it was simply the kind of behaviour which had characterized her relationships with men in the past, and it was going to take an awfully long time to reverse this pattern. As a result, Adrian found her very difficult, and tended to just stay out of her way.
As I began peeling the potatoes for dinner, I heard loud thumps coming from upstairs. I was about to climb the stairs, ready to go up and deal with yet another scene, when I realized what the noise was. Jodie’s video contained song and dance routines for the children to join in with. Jodie was simply dancing along to her video.
As I returned to the kitchen, I felt immensely sad. Given the choice between playing with my daughters or watching a video on her own, Jodie had had no hesitation in choosing the video. It wasn’t even that she didn’t like the girls; if she had the option of being alone or of spending time with anyone, Jodie would always choose to be alone. Her history had taught her that the company of others could only bring pain and rejection, and this lesson had isolated her from the world.
My fear was the effect that this awful legacy was likely to have on the rest of her life. Jodie’s hostility, defensiveness and delayed development meant that she really had nothing going for her. She wasn’t pretty, bright or talented. She wasn’t kind, warm or vulnerable. She was still overweight, despite my efforts, although her weight had stabilized. She was rude, unpleasant, aggressive, violent, and she had absolutely no desire to be liked by anyone. It was a mixture that was bound to alienate her and she had no tools to win other people over, nothing at her disposal to make others wish to be around her, or to win her affection.
As far as I could tell, not one person had ever taken an interest in Jodie in her entire life, except those that had wanted to hurt her. Not one person had ever loved her. But as I listened to her clumsy, arrhythmic stomping coming from upstairs, I felt more drawn to her than ever. Surely it wasn’t too late for her? She was only eight years old, for goodness’ sake. Could her entire life really be mapped out?
I hoped fervently that there was time to heal her broken personality, and I longed to put her back together again so that she could have another chance at the childhood that had been so cruelly taken from her. I was determined to try my very best for this child and if love, attention, kindness and hard work could do anything, I would not stop until she was better.
Chapter Sixteen The Spider’s Web
It was a beautiful, crisp winter morning in early December; the sun was a soft golden ball in a clear sky. Jodie’s usually pale cheeks were glowing red from the cold and the exertion of riding her bike. Every so often she stopped to flip back her scarf, part of a set I’d bought: a lilac hat, scarf and gloves with a fluffy trim. Only prolonged coercion had stopped her from wearing them in bed. Finally I’d done something right!
I set a brisk pace as we approached the park gates, and my mind was racing. I was anxious, and for once my worries were not entirely down to Jodie. The previous day we had visited Abbey Green School, and met the headmaster, Adam West. Although the visit had gone well, Mr West had said that he wouldn’t be able to offer Jodie a place until funding had been approved, which might take three months. Jodie would have to continue with Nicola, her tutor, in the meantime, but this clearly wasn’t meeting her needs. Jodie desperately needed not only education, but also the routine of school, and the company of other children.
I paused by the entrance to the park, and called Jodie back. Strung between two shrubs was a large spider’s web, still in the shade, sparkling white with dew.
‘Look at this, Jodie! A spider’s web. Isn’t it beautiful?’ I said. ‘Like one of those decorations we saw in the shops.’
‘Beautiful,’ she repeated. ‘Really beautiful.’
‘And can you hear that rustling in the undergrowth? I bet that’s a bird.’ We stood very quietly and listened. Moments later we were rewarded, as a large blackbird with a fiery orange beak quickly hopped across the path. Jodie’s face beamed.
‘Beautiful. Really beautiful,’ she said again, and I knew the phrase would be repeated for the rest of the day.
We made four laps of the park, then headed back. I always felt better after a walk, and for Jodie the energy release was essential, otherwise she’d be hyperactive for the rest of the day. She waited at the park gates, and we crossed the road together, then she sprinted ahead to the top of our road. Arriving at the gate, she heaved her bike up the step. To a stranger watching her who didn’t know anything of her past, she could have been any normal child arriving home, cheeks flushed from the cold air, looking forward to the warmth of home and the comfort of a hot drink. Just for a moment, I pretended to be that person, so that I could briefly enjoy the pleasure of seeing Jodie as she could be, if all of our efforts paid off.
We took off our coats, and I wheeled her bike through to the conservatory. I heated some milk and made us both a mug of hot chocolate. We sat either side of the kitchen table. I passed Jodie the biscuit tin and she dived in, grinning.
‘One,’ I said. ‘You had a cooked breakfast.’ I took a sip of my drink and set it down. She followed suit.
I took a deep breath. Now was the moment that I had to broach the subject that had been on my mind all morning. The innocence of our park trip was about to be sullied with the darkness of the adult world that Jodie had been so brutally exposed to. ‘Jodie,’ I said.
She met my gaze, the blue-grey eyes blank as usual.
‘I need to explain something. Can you listen carefully?’
She nodded.
‘When we’ve finished our drinks, we’re going out in the car. Do you remember Eileen?’
She wouldn’t remember her, of course, even though Eileen had finally made her first visit. A few weeks before, she had come round to introduce herself. Jodie was unlikely to recall it and I could hardly blame her, as it had been a flying visit, to say the least. After a few uncomfortable minutes, Eileen had made her excuses and gone on her way. She clearly wasn’t at ease with Jodie.
Jodie looked blank at my question, so I carried on. ‘Eileen’s your social worker, you remember? Well, Eileen wants you to have something called a medical, where a doctor will examine you, but there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll be with you.’
In
