Damaged, A Baby’s Cry and The Night the Angels Came 3-in-1 Collection. Cathy Glass

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СКАЧАТЬ you, Cathy? That’s nice.’ She dunked her biscuit, then began licking off the melted chocolate.

      ‘The doctor will have a look at you, to make sure you’re OK. Do you remember that you had a medical when you first came into care? It will be like that, but this will be a bit more thorough.’

      ‘Will I have to take me clothes off, Cathy?’ she said, more interested in the biscuit than the conversation.

      ‘Yes. But it will be a nice lady doctor. She’s used to children, so there’s nothing to worry about. She’s going to look at your body, particularly where Daddy and Uncle Mike hurt you. You know, what we call our private parts.’

      I waited for a reaction: fear, horror or outright refusal, but there was nothing. She finished her drink, wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and stood up, leaving me wondering if she’d fully understood.

      ‘If you think of any questions,’ I added, ‘tell me and I’ll explain.’

      Strapped in the back seat, she resumed chattering about anything and everything, including medicals in general. Had I ever had a medical? Had Lucy and Paula? Did they have to take their clothes off and show their private parts? Did Adrian? I stopped that line of questioning, and switched on the radio. A bouncy pop song came on.

      ‘My mum likes this song,’ she said. ‘She likes the boy singer. We listen to it in the pub.’

      ‘You used to listen to it in the pub,’ I corrected her. As usual, Jodie seemed unable to distinguish between then and now but I was trying to point out the difference whenever she muddled them up, in the hope that she would begin to put what was finished behind her. I worried that she was still existing emotionally in the bad place she had come from, and if that was the case she was unlikely to begin her recovery. ‘We don’t go to the pub now. That was in the past.’

      ‘Why, Cathy? Why can’t we go to the pub?’

      ‘I don’t think it’s the right place to take children. I prefer the park for an outing.’

      ‘My mum thinks it’s right, so does my daddy, and my auntie Bell.’

      ‘I dare say.’

      ‘Cathy, is my mummy having a medical and showing her private parts?’

      ‘No. Not as far as I know.’

      She paused, as though weighing this up. Then her voice piped up again. ‘She should. My daddy does naughty things to her as well.’

      I glanced in the mirror. It was a throwaway comment, but loaded with connotations, as many disclosures are. ‘How do you know that, Jodie?’

      She shrugged. ‘Don’t know. Just do.’

      She had shut down again, and I knew there was no point in pursuing it. I was sure that she meant that she had seen her father and mother having sex and it was no surprise that she couldn’t distinguish between that and what happened to her. When she said it was ‘naughty’, did that mean she was starting to accept that what had happened to her was wrong? Or was she just repeating back what I had said to her? It was so hard to know with Jodie how much she understood and accepted.

      The rest of the journey passed with Jodie singing along to songs on the radio, many of them near word perfect. I always found this unreasonably irritating: how could she remember these daft lyrics, but not her ABC?

      The medical centre was housed in a purpose-built bungalow and offered a range of paediatric services. I’d been there before with other foster children for general health checks, but never for a forensic medical; I couldn’t help feeling very apprehensive because I had a fair idea of what was in store for her. I knew that the police didn’t do this very readily with young children who are likely victims of abuse, because it can seem like another form of assault. I had talked it over with Jill earlier and she had reassured me that if Jodie put up any resistance or seemed distressed, the doctors would stop immediately. There was no question of forcing her to go through with it.

      It was always a struggle to find a parking space, but I spotted a gap at the kerb, and anxiously tried to parallel park, while a van waited impatiently behind.

      ‘You been here before?’ Jodie asked, releasing her seatbelt.

      ‘Yes. For eyesight and hearing tests.’

      ‘Did they look at your private parts?’

      ‘No, sweet. Stay put, and I’ll let you out.’

      I went round and opened her door. She jumped on to the pavement and I took her hand. I had no idea which department we wanted and the entrance board didn’t seem to cover private parts. I approached the receptionist.

      ‘Jodie Brown,’ I said. ‘We’ve a forensic medical booked for twelve-thirty.’

      She glanced at the appointment list. ‘Oh yes. We’re waiting for the police doctor. Take a seat over there. She shouldn’t be long.’

      I steered Jodie to a small recess with four plastic chairs, and a box of well-used toys and books. A door led off, with a sign that read ‘Consulting Room One’, and a small metal plate marked ‘Vacant’. Jodie brought me a pop-up book of Cinderella. I had just opened it and begun to read, when a smartly dressed woman walked over. She was in her late fifties, with bright red lipstick and horn-rimmed glasses.

      ‘Cathy?’ she smiled. ‘I’m Linda Marshall, the police doctor. And you must be Jodie?’

      She wasn’t what I was expecting at all, and from the look on Jodie’s face I gathered she wasn’t what she was expecting either. With her red plaid suit, sheer black stockings and high stilettos, she wouldn’t have looked out of place at a department store beauty counter.

      ‘Sorry to keep you waiting,’ she said. ‘How are you?’

      ‘Fine, thanks,’ I answered for us both.

      Jodie eyed her suspiciously. ‘Are you a doctor?’ she barked.

      ‘Yes,’ she whispered conspiratorially. ‘But children tell me I don’t look like one. Shall we go in?’

      Jodie immediately dropped my hand and took hold of the doctor’s. I followed them into the consulting room. There, a young woman in a white medic’s coat was sitting behind a small desk, looking much more like the kind of doctor we had expected. She came round the desk and shook my hand.

      ‘Hello there, I’m Dr Pratchet,’ she said. ‘I’ll be carrying out the examination today, with the help of Dr Marshall here. Do sit down.’

      I took the only available chair and looked around. A long reclining couch with leg rests dominated one side of the room. At its foot was a large spot lamp on an adjustable metal stem, which was switched off for the moment. I shuddered, aware of what was in store.

      Dr Pratchet returned to her desk, and Linda Marshall perched on the edge of the couch. Jodie went straight for the toy box in the corner, which she upturned, spilling its contents across the floor. I shot her a warning glance.

      ‘I’d like to ask you a few questions first,’ Dr Pratchet said. ‘You’re all right playing there for a few minutes, aren’t you, Jodie?’

      Jodie СКАЧАТЬ