Time to Talk

Only another week until my release. Miss MacIntyre is really excited, keeps asking if I'm looking forward to freedom, chattering on about how wonderful it will be. I know she means well, so I just smile and nod. How can I tell her what I am looking forward to? She’s always been kind to me Miss Mac, she's the only member of staff who has ever taken an interest in me. The other girls make fun of her because she’s fat, her hair is a frizzy peroxide mess, and she has a funny high voice, but I take care they don’t go too far.  1

They’re afraid of me, not that I’ve ever hurt any of them. I've never had to. They know why I’m here and that’s enough. And if ever it isn’t then I just mention Janine. She was Miss Mac’s worst tormentor when I first arrived. Until the morning I found Miss Mac crying in the garden and decided to put a stop to it. 2

It was easy because Janine was a fool. She’d been prattling on about this boy she met just before they sent her to the Unit, how he’d be sure to come and help her escape. It was my week to take care of the ducks, and it was dead easy to convince her that I’d seen this gorgeous bloke hiding in the bushes by the lake and he’d said he was looking for her and he’d be back that night. Stupid cow believed me, never asked herself how he’d have got in when this place is like Fort Knox. No she couldn’t wait to sneak out with me when I went to shut the ducks in after supper. 3

No one missed her until breakfast and it was lunchtime before they found her in the lake. There was a lot of talk, rumours flying around about how she’d been so depressed she’d committed suicide, that made me smile. Then the police said she must have slipped on the muddy bank and fallen in, and everyone knew she couldn’t swim. The wound on her head almost gave it away. I heard they found bark and bits of wood in it, but in the end they decided she must have hit her head on a tree root when she fell. They were nearly right a piece of tree root did hit her head but she was standing up at the time. That was when I first learnt about what they can find out from a dead body and how leaving traces must be avoided.4

There’s been a lot of argument about whether I should be let out or not, a lot of stuff in the papers Miss Mac told me, though no-one would let me see it. In the end it went to the Home Secretary and next week I can take up the University place I’ve earned. Too good a brain to waste they said, with straight A’s all through GCSE and A level. Not hard when there's nothing to do but study. Mind  there was a bit of a hitch when the science teacher, Mr 'call me Dickie' Richmond, died.  5

Tragic everyone said it was, and him such a lovely man and so concerned about the girls' education. Which shows how little they know about anything. No one could think how it happened when he was always so careful about everything he ate or drank. He wasn’t so much careful as paranoid, always going on about it, but I suppose you’re bound to be like that when you have an allergy that can kill you. If he’d been a bit more careful about other things he’d still be alive today. 6

At first I quite liked him, he was a good teacher and funny, made me laugh and I hadn’t been doing too much of that. He was good looking and one or two of the girls used to ask me if I fancied him, which made me sick, he was old enough to be my father. The first time it happened I thought it was an accident, he was leaning over explaining something and his hand rubbed against my breast but the second time there was no mistake. I let him think I was up for it, and he could hardly control himself, kept telling me how special I was. I’d heard that before. 7

The next lesson I was prepared. He was a bit surprised when I came on strong to him as soon as he shut the door, and he got so excited he didn’t notice anything. I wasn't sure it would work but it was brilliant, one minute he’s pushing his tongue down my throat and the next he’s rolling on the floor gasping. When I was sure it was too late I began to scream. 8

The doctor said it was anaphylactic shock and wanted to know what he’d eaten while he was with me. I told him nothing, which was true. Now me I really enjoyed that bag of salted peanuts I’d had just before he arrived, I think he might have got a bit of the aftertaste so to speak. 9

The doctor said they should keep a special eye on me, he was worried about the effect the experience might have. Miss Mac tried to get me to talk about it. She always wants me to talk about things, she thinks it will help me. All the time I've been here she has been trying to get me to talk about what happened when my mother died. Of course I never have, not to her, not to the Chaplain, nor all those others, psychiatrists, psychologists, whatever. 10

They used to spend hours at first trying to get me to talk, but I said nothing. In fact I didn't speak at all for months, it was safer that way. But on my thirteenth birthday Miss Mac went to so much trouble with a cake and present and all, and getting the other girls to sing happy birthday. That had never happened to me ever, I was so surprised I said ‘thank you'. That was a mistake ‘cause then they knew I could talk. So I decided I might as well keep talking, but be careful not to tell them anything. In the end they decided I'd been so traumatised I would probably never remember what happened or why I did it. If thinking that kept them happy and off my back it was OK by me.11

I sometimes think I will tell Miss Mac the truth, because really she deserves that after all this time, but if I do they will never let me go - one day when its over, maybe then I’ll tell her.12

Tell her how that first morning of the long school holiday I sat at the breakfast table after Daddy had gone to work. I was excited because it was his birthday and I planned to have the present he most wanted for him when he came home. I sat and watched my mother, waiting for the moment when she would lose her temper and lash out at me. Usually I dreaded it but that day was different I needed her angry. For once she was quite calm, and I was beginning to get worried, it had to be today. 13

I pushed my plate away letting some crumbs fall on the floor, I knew that would work. ‘What do you think you’re doing’ she screamed. The blow to the side of my head sent me reeling across the room. I staggered to my feet and into the kitchen. She came after me of course, the plan was working. When she hit me again I fell and stayed on the floor waiting, knowing she would stop eventually and then it would be my chance. Not to escape, to run and hide. Not this time. This time I stayed where I was until exhausted by her rage she collapsed onto a kitchen chair, slumped over the table, her head on her arms. 14

Then I moved, slowly carefully. She saw me and I held my breath but she only screamed at me to ‘get out of my sight’. Behind her I edged open a drawer in the sickly yellow kitchen unit and closed my fingers round the wide long bladed knife she used to chop meat.  15

It only took a moment to drive it deep into her neck, as easy as sticking pins in the mother-doll my friend Jessica had shown me how to make from plasticine and hair off mother's comb. I used to stick pins in it every night.  Jess said if you did that something terrible would happen to the person. I couldn't have been doing it right because nothing happened. 16

Mother made hardly any noise as she slid off the chair on to the floor, just an odd sort of gurgling. That seemed a shame, I wanted to hear her to scream. Still it was good to see the blood seeping out around the knife, turning the gleaming floor into a big red puddle. She’d be really mad about that I thought and couldn’t stop giggling.  17

I could hardly wait for Daddy to get home. I knew he was going to be so happy with his present. It was what he wanted most, he'd told me so the night before. He'd come to my room for his special loving, he said he wanted an early birthday present. I didn't mind it so much any more and I liked the bit when it was over and he held me close and told me I was his special girl but we couldn't tell anyone. That was when we heard her shouting for him and he said 'I wish she was dead, then it would be my birthday every day'.18

I don’t know how long I waited, sitting in the puddle of blood staring at her, thinking how pleased he was going to be. I was so excited when I heard the door I jumped up shouting 'Happy Birthday Daddy'. He was smiling when he came to the kitchen doorway, then the smile disappeared and he just stood and stared at me as if he'd never seen me before. All he said was 'What have you done, what in God's name have you done'. Then he rushed out of the room and I heard him being sick in the downstairs loo. He never spoke to me again.19

Then there were lots of people everywhere. At the police station, a doctor examined me and asked about my bruises, but I said nothing. Lots of people talked to me but I wouldn't reply to any of them. I was waiting for Daddy, I was sure he'd come and then it would all be all right.  But he didn't come and they sent me here. 20

The last time I saw Daddy was at the trial. He gave evidence. He said he had no idea why I'd done it, that she was a good and loving mother, we were a very happy family, they both loved me. He cried when he said that. He said of course I'd always been difficult but he was shocked to find I was a vicious evil child. When they asked about my bruises he said I must have been in a fight in school. All the time he   was saying it I was staring at him but he never looked at me. 21

I was too young to go to prison so they sent me back here. There was a lot of talk about my having treatment. I don't know what they thought I needed treatment for. The psychiatrist who kept coming to talk to me tried to get Daddy to visit but he's never been here, not once. 22

I know about him though. Miss Mac found out where he was when I begged her. He's married again she said and has a little daughter. They're living in a village in the West Country. I've managed to get a place in a University only twenty miles away and next week I’ll be there. I'll be supervised of course and I’ll have to be careful at first, prove I'm fit for freedom. I can wait, it doesn't matter how long it takes. In time I'll find a way to get close to them, work out the best time and place. He won’t know me. When I find the right time, he won’t see me. I've found it’s easier if there is the element of surprise.23

Then it will be over and I’ll talk the way Miss Mac wants.24