Page 37 of #MeToo
‘I’ve heard similar stories to yours, Carol, and they are truly awful and it’s hard to believe that so many women are going through horrific abuse in their own homes because they have nowhere to go and nobody to turn to. It seems to me that even when they pluck up the courage to speak out, or run, or ask for help, there are so many hoops to jump through and walls to break down.’
Carol nodded. ‘That’s exactly it. I’m in touch with lots of women now through online forums and we support each other that way, like those at the group you go to. It’s like there are so many stages before you escape or report a crime and for me and others, the hardest thing was the fear of not being believed, your voice not being heard. Bruises tell their own story but the stuff that goes on up here’ – Carol tapped the side of her head – ‘the mind games and mental cruelty, well, that’s a tough one to prove. And who wants to tell a stranger their most personal thoughts? I certainly didn’t. How can you put into words that, even though it makes your skin crawl and you don’t want to, having sex with your husband or partner prevents a beating. It’s like rape of the body and the mind, your last barrier has been broken down and in that moment you are nothing. He’s taken everything, your dignity and free will. I often wondered if I spoke out, would people think I was mad, or making it up to get rid of Gary. Especially his relatives who thought he could do no wrong. It’s a lonely place to be.’
Billie was rocking Iris gently on her knee and could tell she was ready for a nap so spoke softly. ‘I feel such a fraud you know, attending that group. It was never intended to be a long-term thing and yet as much as I want to leave because I don’t consider myself a victim, part of me wants to stay and help somehow. The stories they tell and the discussions we have can be hard to listen to, but it’s like I connect with them even though I haven’t been a victim of domestic violence or sexual assault.’
‘But you are a victim of violence at the hands of a man, because of what Gary did. You know what it’s like to be attacked, feel helpless and the worst thing of all, to know fear, during and after the event. That’s the invisible bond. You and I have faced what we thought was the end, that moment when you hover between holding on and giving in, letting it happen, allowing the inevitable. I did. I remember once thinking it would be the easy way out, an end to it all, but I couldn’t do it. I had to survive for the girls.’
Billie wiped a lock of hair from Iris’s face as she spoke. ‘You are so right, and when I’ve listened to the women, it’s like their experiences reignite my own and I have to swallow down the panic. Even though each of their stories are different it doesn’t matter, I get it.’
‘That’s what I mean. You have PTSD… so do I. We both suffer flashbacks and nightmares. If you’ve experienced violence I’m convinced it bestows a deeper understanding of another’s pain. Some people deal with it by switching off, or by listening or by sharing or by being proactive. You just haven’t worked out which one you are yet but I have a feeling you will. For now though, even if it is for an unusual reason, you have a place in that group. If you can hold someone’s hand or listen to them cry it out, all well and good. It might help you, too.’
Billie wasn’t convinced. ‘Mmm, that’s what Aiden said, but I’m not so sure. If any of them find out my real motive they’d string me up. It’s a bubbling pot of emotions in that room and most of them are borne from anger so the last thing I want is for them to turn that on me. The thing is, that desperation and rage some of the women feel is rubbing off on me. I might be turning into a man-hater. Don’t you feel bitter and hate, you know, for men like Gary and Stan?’
Carol nodded. ‘Yes, I do feel a lot of negative emotions but you know who I feel the most anger towards?’
Billie shook her head.
‘The system. They know this is going on and it’s getting worse yet there aren’t enough resources and funding to even skim the surface. Out there, right now, women are being abused in every way imaginable and for the majority there is nobody to turn to. Escaping mental and physical abuse is hard enough when you are single but imagine if you have children – the choices you have to make for them, putting yourself last. I stayed for the girls, so they would have their own bedrooms and a place to call home. I put up with him for them and because it was easier than being alone in poverty or one of those shelters.’
Billie shook her head. ‘I remember when I was on the force, the paperwork was ridiculous when we would rather have been out there, on the streets. But with so many cutbacks it was impossible, despite the rising number of domestic incidents we were called to. Most of the time our hands were tied. I suppose the frustration and what happened to me was why I quit… but sometimes I feel like a failure because if I’d stayed, I could have helped. That pecks at my head a lot but I simply went to pieces and had to leave. You see that, don’t you?’
Carol held up her finger and pointed to Billie as she spoke. ‘Of course I do, so stop it right now. You had the right to choose, Billie, it’s your life.’
‘It’s a pity though, that so many women don’t seem to have just that, a choice.’ Lately, Billie managed to feel guilt for the most random things and today it was having free will.
Carol began stacking the empty cups and plates onto the tray as she spoke. ‘I know, and the heartbreaking thing is that once they do summon the courage, or whatever it takes to run or make that call, it’s only the first step and there’s no guarantee of a solution. While social services struggle to meet demand, all the police can do is follow the leads, put together the evidence and let the CPS do the rest. The end result can sometimes be down to luck, like a perfect storm.’
‘And in Stan’s case, the perfect storm landed him in prison. Sometimes I still can’t believe it. It’s like a nightmare.’
‘I can imagine, and I do see it from both sides, Billie, I promise. I’m sure there are many men who slip through the net for loads of reasons and deserve to be behind bars. Like others are in prison for things they swear they didn’t do, but they haven’t the resources to investigate like your private detective has done. Like there aren’t enough refuges and social housing for women who need help. It’s wrong and things need to change but until then, all people like you and I can do is fight for justice and make our voices heard, wherever and however we can. That’s why I’m doing my Open University degree, so I can make a difference.’
Carol crumpled a sugar packet between her fingers. ‘One thing I will say though, is that in my opinion any woman who has a man sent to prison because she’s lied about something as serious as rape, does true victims no favours whatsoever. I believe that one of the biggest hurdles for a woman or a man to get over is belief. Will the police listen to me? Will I have to go through hell over and over, reliving what happened, giving evidence, telling my family? The list goes on. And I imagine that in reverse, the same terror applies to a man who is desperate for people to believe that he has been falsely accused. So if you believe Stan, fight on. And I pray you are vindicated because I can see how much this is getting to you… and if he is innocent, shame on this Kelly person.’
‘I will. I have to.’ Billie glanced at Iris who was fast asleep now, her mouth sucking on her dummy, long lashes resting on rosy cheeks.
As she looked upon her daughter, Billie was thankful for her oblivion. Iris was still innocent and trouble-free and not affected by the big bad world out there.
Carol checked her watch. ‘I’m going to have to make a move soon and collect the girls from school but will you bring Iris round during the holidays? They love babies and will make a big fuss of her and it’ll give us a chance to catch up again. I need to keep an eye on you now, Miss Marple.’
‘Of course I will. She needs to be with other children. I’m going to look up some mum and toddler groups in the new year.’ Billie placed Iris in her pushchair, gathered all her bits and bobs and then turned to give Carol a hug. ‘Thanks for listening, I feel so much better now.’
‘My pleasure, but I want you to promise you’ll keep me informed and don’t be scared of ringing me if that head of yours gets in a muddle?’
Billie smiled. ‘Promise.’
Carol asked one more question. ‘Are you meeting Kelly this weekend?’
Billie answered with a nod of the head. ‘And I’m dreading it but if it comes to nothing, I think we’ll call it a day, so fingers crossed.’
‘Well take care and text me when you can, just to let me know how it went and that you’re okay.’ They’d reached the exit and once outside Carol shivered. ‘Right then. Now give me another hug and I’ll see you very soon, and don’t forget that text.’
Billie said she’d let her know, before setting off towards her car and then home to Sue’s. The notion that the idea of home was more connected to Sue and Darren than her own mother’s house wasn’t lost on Billie and that swell of irritation rose again in her chest. Why did her mum make everything so damn difficult? But on a more cheerful note, her heart did feel a bit lighter, surer. Her head had managed to untie some knots and let go of the guilt it had been carrying for a while. All she had to do now was keep the faith; her own, Carol’s and most of all, Stan’s.
29
Sue sipped her sherry as she watched Billie wrestle with the giant roll of wrapping paper that she was using to disguise a pink, fluffy rocking horse. During their prison visit, Stan had told Sue to transfer enough money to buy the whole of Argos, not just the list of things he wanted Iris to have. Billie thought they should have waited for spring to buy the huge plastic Wendy house that was waiting to be erected by Darren, but the doll’s pram and little cart with coloured bricks were already under the tree.
Whenever they visited Sue, Billie had taken to staying over with Iris, rather than drive back to her mum’s. It was an arrangement that suited everyone and had given Billie some free time to carry out her ‘undercover work’ that remained a huge secret. The thought of her upcoming big night out caused her stomach to roll so she pushed it to the back of her mind and listened instead to Sue who was taking one of her frequent walks down memory lane where as usual, the subject was Stan.
