and to my great relief, she stood up and took hold of Kelly’s hand. ‘Come on then,’ she said. ‘I want to be in the video.’
I followed them out of the door and into the next room, where a young policeman, also in civilian clothes, greeted us.
‘Hello, Jodie,’ he said. ‘I’m John. I work the camera. Do you want to come and have a look?’
The interview room was small and bare, with three plastic chairs, a central light, and a blackout blind over the only window. I was surprised how austere it was; I’d imagined it would be more child-friendly.
John showed Jodie and me where the camera was mounted, and where he would be standing, hidden from view by a screen. ‘We’re going to make a video of you, and record what you’re saying. Is that OK, Jodie?’
I remembered the photo I’d taken of Jodie when she’d first arrived at my home, and how she’d tried to take off her clothes. Would she be upset now at this strange man wanting to video her? She hadn’t been bothered when I’d explained it to her earlier, and so far at least she seemed unfazed, as she nodded her assent.
‘Can you sit in this chair?’ Kelly said, helping her up, while John discreetly moved behind the screen.
‘Cathy’s going to wait in the room next door now, while you stay with us, all right?’ Harriet said.
Jodie wriggled in her chair and gave a little wave, and I left the room. As her carer, I was not allowed to be present during the interview, in case it affected her testimony. Memorandum interviews have to be done under controlled conditions, in order for them to be admissible as evidence in court.
I returned to the bright, cheerful suite, which seemed such a contrast to the small, dark interview room. I sat down, but I found I couldn’t relax, so I decided to pop outside for a cigarette. The wind was piercing, and I took shelter in a doorway, furtively puffing while I worried about what was going on in the interview room. What Jodie said now was crucial because without her evidence on tape there would be little chance of a prosecution. At her age and with her learning difficulties, there was no way she could go into a witness box to testify. The adversarial nature of our legal system, even in child abuse cases, would mean that she could be cross-examined by a barrister. There was no way she would be able to cope with that, and what child of less than ten who had been through what she had could? As a result, it was little wonder so few cases came to court, let alone ended with a successful prosecution of the abusers. I smoked only half the cigarette, then stubbed it out, and felt only half-guilty. I pressed the buzzer to re-enter the station, then made my own way to the suite. I paced, then sat, and paced again. Twenty minutes passed, then the door opened and Kelly stuck her head round.
‘We’re giving it another ten minutes, then we’re going to call it a day. We’ve not had much luck, I’m afraid.’
I nodded, my heart sinking, as Kelly returned to the interview. I wandered over to the window, which looked out over the courtyard at the rear. I watched as a patrol car pulled in, and two uniformed officers climbed out, sharing a joke. As a foster carer, I often have dealings with the police, not only with child protection issues, but also with runaway teenagers, or those who’ve committed offences. Theirs was a difficult job, and I’d always had the utmost respect for the police, particularly the Youth Offending Team, who have to have the patience of saints.
A sense of depression engulfed me. I could imagine that if Jodie hadn’t opened up by now, she was unlikely to. I knew what she was like when she didn’t want to talk. There was no forcing the issue – she was as immovable as a mountain. She had just a few short minutes left to tell the police what they needed to hear if there was any hope of punishing the people who had made her suffer so terribly.
While I waited, I wondered, not for the first time, about Jodie’s brother and sister. Had they been made to suffer in the way that Jodie had? I hoped not, but it was unlikely that I would ever find out. I was only given information that was strictly relevant to Jodie and all I knew was that her siblings were with other carers now. My hope was that, because they were so much younger than Jodie, they might have escaped what Jodie had gone through.
A short while later I heard Jodie’s voice outside the door. It opened and she bounced in. ‘We did the video,’ she grinned. ‘It was really good.’ She rushed over to the toy box.
I looked up hopefully at Harriet and Kelly, who shook their heads. Harriet motioned for me to join her, while Kelly helped Jodie into her coat.
‘She wouldn’t talk, I’m afraid,’ said Harriet. ‘She kept telling us how she wanted to rip her father’s head off, but she wouldn’t say why, or give any details. We won’t try again while she’s so young, but we’ll keep the file open for the future. Hopefully one day she will be ready.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, unable to hide my disappointment. ‘I’m sorry she wasn’t more cooperative, but it isn’t altogether surprising.’
‘No. Certainly not, not with everything that’s gone on. I dealt with that family years ago. God knows why she was left there so long.’
I was intrigued but the police woman didn’t say any more and confidentiality would not allow her to. Clearly the police had been involved with the family at some level but it could have been for anything from parking offences to petty crime or drug dealing. Nevertheless, I had the feeling that Harriet had formed the impression that something had been going on in the house … but I would never know for sure.
I buttoned up Jodie’s coat, and the two WPCs saw us out. As soon as we turned the corner, Jodie’s good mood disappeared.
‘Cathy, is the monster going to come? Is it going to come and do what they said?’ Her questions were breathless and anxious. ‘I think that monster’s coming. He’s under my bed and he wants to chew up my hands while I’m asleep.’
‘No, sweetheart, it’s not, I promise. Why do you think that?’
‘My dad and Uncle Mike said if I ever told anyone, it was going to come.’ The anxiety in her voice rose higher until she was ranting. ‘It’s going to chew my arms and legs off! That’s what’s going to happen!’
‘No, sweet,’ I said, trying to pacify her. ‘It’s not going to come. You did your very best with the police, I know that. You were a good girl and nothing is going to hurt you. You’re safe with me, you know that, don’t you? There’s no monster.’
As I tried to calm her, I realized that it was this fear that had stopped her from talking to the police. Instantly my anger flared at the power the abusers still had over her. She was unwittingly protecting them because the terror they had planted in her was so strong that it overrode everything else.
‘You’re safe with me, Jodie,’ I said, as we headed for home. ‘I promise.’
That night, when I turned on the ten o’clock news, the screen was dominated by a rock star, arrested as part of a worldwide investigation into child pornography on the Internet. The police had seized his computer and found images of children on the hard disk.
I seethed with anger. How did these perverts think the photographs were obtained? For every image downloaded, a child had been abused, and a life and personality destroyed. The end result was children like Jodie, fractured and hurt almost beyond repair. As far as I was concerned, the person buying this filth was just as responsible as the abuser, and I had no sympathy for his fall from grace, or for the claim that he was researching a book.
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