The Puppet Master Read online

  She woke in the night to the feel of her body purging out the paracetamol she had taken. She had been sick constantly since she arrived at the hospital. As she was seventeen and not quite an adult, but not a young child, they had put her in the locked gynaecology ward. She couldn’t understand how the nurse knew what she had been through as she didn’t remember telling anyone. Maybe her mum had. But wouldn’t she have admitted that she knew? She looked around the room. Normally her mother was there, holding out the weird looking cardboard bowl for her. Each time she was ripped from sleep by the awful pain of needing to be sick but she couldn’t see her and she started to panic. She yelled out while being sick all over the floor. She knew this would happen. Eric had got to her mum and killed her. Just like he promised he would if she ever told anyone. She screamed, “Mum!” as loud as she could. While trying desperately to get the wires out of her body so she could find her. Someone opened the door, but her relief was temporary when she realised it was a nurse.

  “Where is my mum? Please help me! I’ve got to find her! Please!” she begged the nurse. She couldn’t tell if she recognised the nurse in the weak moonlight that was coming through the window, all she could see was her blue uniform. The nurse didn’t answer but quickly came over to the bed and stopped her from pulling out the tube and needle which was firmly lodged into her hand.

  “Calm down,” she said sternly. “Your mother has just gone to the bathroom.”

  “Are you sure? Did you see her go? Did she leave the ward? How long ago did she go?” Her heart and head were pounding with fear and adrenalin. If the nurse hadn’t been holding both her hands and pushing her back down into the bed, she would have been shaking her by the shoulders to get her to answer faster. But it wasn’t necessary as her mother walked into the room at that moment.

  “Billie, what’s wrong?” her mum asked with a tenderness that she hadn’t heard in a long time. Her mum walked straight over to the bed and put her arms around Billie in an attempt to stop her shaking and the tears from running down her face. Billie didn’t answer. She just nestled as close as she could get to her mum and breathed in her familiar smell. Relief slowly trickled through her veins, calming her heartbeat and quenching the fire of fear that had consumed her. Most of the time, Billie thought her mum was frustrating and she spent a lot of time wishing she would change. But tonight she couldn’t bear to think of losing her. For the first time since she was a little girl, she fell asleep with her mum’s arms wrapped around her and wasn’t plagued with nightmares.

  The police came the next morning and at first she refused to tell them anything. The officer who sat right next to her was tall and quite round with long curly black hair, which she had tamed into a side ponytail. When she first walked in she seemed imposing. But once she was sitting down and had begun to ask Billie questions, it was possible to see her kind eyes and hear the gentle tone she used. She introduced herself as Lisa and she said she didn’t buy Billie’s story that she took the pills by accident for one minute. Instead, she took her hand and asked her to tell her what ‘really’ happened.

  Billie had never spoken about what had happened and she didn’t know how to start. She said that her step-grandad had ‘done things he shouldn’t’ and that it had been happening since she was twelve. After a while, Lisa asked Billie why she had never mentioned anything to her mother. Billie quickly realised that her mum must have told them she didn’t know anything about it. At first, she was annoyed with her mum. Why wouldn’t she back me up? But then Billie reasoned that she had caused enough trouble for her mum so she told them that she couldn’t, because of all the violent threats that Eric had made – which was the truth with just a bit missing. Later she would wonder how the police knew that something had happened if her mother said she didn’t know.

  The more she spoke with the police, the less hopeful she felt. She knew that they would not believe her because she had no evidence. Lisa kept asking if she could think of any evidence that she had. Every single thing that he had done had been when they were alone. She knew that he had pictures and videos of her as he had brought them out to show her once when she was refusing to cooperate. He had told her he was going to distribute them on posters. When she was older and she had threatened to tell the police, that they would find the videos, he had calmly informed her that he kept everything incriminating at his sister’s house. She told this to Lisa but they said that they police couldn’t get a warrant just on Billie’s say so. She had gone to the doctors with injuries over the past two years when she had to, but each time she had lied. He had made her a liar, no wonder he knew no one would believe her. Billie felt so frustrated. She knew he was clever but it was become clear exactly how clever. His manipulations and threats had allowed him to make sure that he could never get caught. But then, why was she surprised? He was such a clever, well-spoken man. He had fooled her into believing that he loved her for four years. When that went up in smoke, he had bullied, tortured and forced her into cooperation, all the while covering his tracks – never hitting her in a way that would look like physical abuse, always in a way that could be explained as an accident. Aunty Susan left the room just as the police looked ready to leave. She gave her a look that Billie couldn’t decipher but it made her heart sink. She would later find out that her aunty had never believed her anyway and had just gone to Gran’s house and told her everything Billie had said.

  When Billie was released from the hospital, she was filled with terror. He lived in the village and she was no longer in a locked ward. She knew he had keys to the house from when they went on holiday and he would cat-sit. It was only a matter of time until he got his revenge. The worst part was her mother was capitalising on the whole thing to gain sympathy from everyone. She’d arrived home to a gathering of her mother’s friends, most of whom she hadn’t even met. Her mother had friends in the village that took her side, whereas Billie had none. No one spoke to her or offered her their sympathies but they were happy to drop by and gossip about who had seen her gran and where.

  Her gran was proclaiming Eric’s innocence to anyone who would listen. And the fact that Eric had lived in Windermere all his life, pretty much guaranteed him supporters. ‘No one from around here would do something like that’ they said. For Billie it was humiliating. Her mother was spouting all the cruel things he had done, to gain attention, and was loving every aspect of the drama. It was like she had no idea the fear and revulsion she felt on a daily basis. Not only was she waiting for Eric’s visit, but she also didn’t want everyone to know the details of the worst moments in her entire life. The ones that believed her must be thinking how stupid she had been. When people looked at her, she felt like they imagined her doing all those things with Eric. It was unbearable. From all angles the situation was untenable. Billie shouldn’t think so harshly of her mother. Deep down she knew her mother was just doing her best to cope with the situation.

  Her family was broken. Jealousy consumed her sister at the attention that Billie was getting and so their relationship was strained at best. Matthew didn’t know what to do, so he threw himself into his work. She didn’t know how to deal with all the pain and suffering she was causing. She couldn’t just pretend it wasn’t happening like she did before. Everyone told her to take comfort from the fact that Eric could no longer get to her, but they were all so wrong. She felt his presence wherever she went. The door locks hadn’t even been changed because her parents were sure that he would not do anything now he was so notorious and it was such a ‘bother’ to change them. So Billie barely slept, waiting for him to come for her.

  Little did she know that it would get worse. The police interviews were torturous. It felt like they were her punishment, not Eric’s. Lisa kept telling Billie that Eric was the one who was in the wrong. But she was the one who had to sit in a room and explain in graphic detail the things that he had done to her. She had to use terms like ‘penis’ and ‘ejaculation’. She had to discuss intimate areas of her body with Lisa knowing that peo
ple were watching and video recording. Didn’t they understand that this had been going on since she was twelve? She was now seventeen and she had spent all of those years locking away every disgusting action that he had taken. When she told them the things that he had done, she cringed. She felt sick. She wanted to kill herself all over again. They weren’t there. She would never be able to stress to them that Eric had become the most important person in her life. How could anyone understand that in the beginning he was the nicest, kindest person that she had ever met and she wanted to spend every minute of the day with him? She was in too deep when he showed who he really was and she was too scared and alone. Everyone in the family always said how close they were and that she and Eric had a ‘special bond’. He had wrapped her up so that she was isolated from everyone and then she could never run. She would have no one to turn to. Every time she tried to explain this in the interviews, she just floundered. It was too hard. The room she was interviewed in was barren and Lisa couldn’t help her say anything so it was up to her. But her surroundings made her feel like she was a criminal. Lisa’s silence felt like a judgement. When her voice echoed back to her, the words sounded pathetic and so she clammed up. Desperate for it to be over.

  There was so much that had happened to her. How on earth was she supposed to tell them every little thing? If she could force herself to remember, she would likely be doing three years’ worth of interviews. She felt sick after every interview and sometimes she was physically sick in the interviews. Frequently, she ran out of the room into her mum’s arms crying hysterically when she was made to relive in her head the most traumatic ways he had touched her. She had to recount waking up with his mouth on her breasts and it made her dry-heave and then closed off her throat because she couldn’t breathe. Her mother was great in the interviews; she wasn’t allowed in because they were recorded. But whenever Billie broke down, her mum would rush to the door and sweep her into her arms. Calming her down and reassuring her until she felt a little better. Gone was the selfish, gossip-driven woman. Instead, she smoothed Billie’s hair, whispering that she was proud of her strong, brave girl and that she needed to do this. The video interviews made her feel so disgusting and she hated every minute.

  When she found out that she would have to do a physical examination she actually looked for the nearest cliff. The intrusion of it and having her body examined like a lab rat, made her feel like the lowest of the low. Where they doing this to Eric? She was disgusted with herself and everything that was happening. The worst part was that Eric had told her that if she told anyone then, it would be the worst thing she ever did. She should have just kept quiet. What was Eric having to do, just sit and be asked questions? Did he have to go and have his body examined? He only had to listen to others asking him what he had done. He didn’t have to do anything, he didn’t have to prove anything. When Lisa told her time and time again she was so brave and that Eric was the person in the wrong, it was this thought that ran down around her, taunting her. If Eric was in the wrong then why was she the only one suffering?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  2010

  Adam

  Adam walked into the living room, bleary eyed from sleep. His father had called him downstairs and he ran straight down as it was rare for his dad to even speak to him, let alone request his presence. His uncle and dad were sat on the sofa and so he took the seat across from them. His father kept crossing and uncrossing his legs, shifting on the sofa while Uncle Eric just sat on the edge, his head bowed in his hands. Adam thought someone might have died but there wasn’t really anyone left.

  Finally, his father found his voice. “Now son, we’ve got something to tell you. I know you’re a bit young so if you don’t understand that’s okay.” Adam hid his balled fists under his legs. He was twenty not twelve, he wanted to yell. He bit down his retort and nodded at his father, who was staring, waiting for a response. “Your uncle Eric is in a spot of bother.”

  “What kind of bother? Is it serious? Are you going to be okay? What’s happened?” Adam fired questions at his father and then at his uncle. Fear clogged his chest making breathing difficult. He couldn’t lose his uncle. His uncle didn’t even look up when Adam asked his questions. His shoulders were slumped down, his head hanging in his hands as if the fight had left him. Adam was scared. His uncle was so vibrant, clever and brave. This person in front of him looked like an old man with nothing left to live for.

  “Calm down, boy. Let me finish,” growled his father, giving him his signature scowl before continuing. “The thing is, you know Sylvia, the woman your uncle has been knocking about with? Well, she has a granddaughter.” His father stopped as if that explained it all, but Adam could not see where this was going. Realising this, he cleared his throat a few times while he struggled for words. He kept looking at the door as if his gaze would bring it closer so he could escape. “Well, this girl, she’s about your age. She’s got it into her head that Eric has been doing stuff to her like.” A red tinge crept up his father’s cheeks and he leant away from his brother. They had never had the sex talk in the handful of conversations they had as a father and son. It was Uncle Eric who had explained all of that to Adam. Aside from scolding him and giving him chores, his father kept all conversation to a bare minimum.

  Adam was bewildered, what stuff? When he asked his father this, he began tapping his heel on the floor, frowning at Adam. “Well you know, sex stuff; it’s bad stuff. She is underage so it looks real bad on your uncle.” As if he felt that was explanation enough, his father got up and announced he was going to the pub. “You’ll be alright won’t you, Eric lad?” he said to the front door, not waiting for a response. Adam walked over to his uncle and sat next to him.

  “Uncle Eric, tell me what happened.”

  “It’s all lies,” whispered his uncle. He slowly raised his head and looked at Adam with eyes pleading for him to believe him. “All I ever did was love that girl as if she was my own. I spent time with her when no one else would. Her own mother couldn’t be bothered with her and I just felt sorry for her, no kid should go unloved like that. So I stuck around. I tried to make a go of it with her gran and be a real family. All I did was love her.” His eyes were watery with tears but they flashed with anger as he said, “This is the thanks I get.”

  Adam was furious. How could anyone think that his uncle would hurt a girl? He was so kind and generous. It was only a couple of months ago that he had stopped seeing Adam so he could concentrate on helping one of Sylvia’s granddaughters. Wait, was this the same one?

  “Was it Billie? The one you were trying to help?”

  At the name, his uncle’s eyes flashed with fierce anger and Adam wanted to back away to a safe distance. Away from the sparks flying from his uncle’s eyes.

  As his uncle struggled to compose himself. Adam felt his own anger rise, matching that of his uncle’s. This man would do anything for Adam. He gave him advice, guided him through difficult things in his life when his father was a snoring ornament on the sofa. He could imagine that his uncle would not be able to resist helping this girl if she was ignored like he said. It was in his kind nature to help anyone. Adam had witnessed his uncle’s kind heart so many times.

  He recalled how they had been out for lunch at a local pub and a young brunette girl, who couldn’t have been more than fourteen, was sat at the booth next to them with an older guy, he looked about eighteen, although it was hard to tell from under his Adidas cap. He had been shamelessly groping the young girl but she kept pushing him away. In the end, he had stormed off in frustration after shouting loudly that she was a ‘frigid cow’. Adam had been appalled but he was relieved when Uncle Eric offered to take the girl home. Uncle Eric told Adam to walk back home as it wasn’t far, there wasn’t enough room in his two-seater ‘Frog’. They had found out when leaving the pub that the girl was stranded as the boy had been her ride. That was just one of the many times that Adam had been so proud to have Eric as his uncle. His father would have just slag
ged the girl off, saying she was stupid to have gone with the boy in the first place. He knew his father would not even think to help a woman overburdened with shopping, or help an old lady carry her drinks tray over to a table.

  Adam sometimes thought that Eric had a ‘good deeds radar’ as he was always helping someone, and no one more than Adam. After his mother had died, all the good qualities his father possessed died with her. On the anniversary of her death, he wasn’t just crying for his mother, but also for the father he lost too. If it weren’t for Uncle Eric’s visits, then Adam would be raising himself. It was Uncle Eric who kicked Adam’s father all the way to the doctors to be officially signed off with depression so that they would have some money coming in after Adam was asked to collect his drunken father from underneath his desk in his fourth job that year.

  Adam felt physically sick looking at the distress in his uncle’s eyes. Who could do something like this? “What exactly is she accusing you of? Has she called the police?”

  His uncle took a deep breath, he seemed to be considering his words. “What you need to understand is that she is not a well girl. She’s been starved of attention her whole life. She gets picked on at school because she is what they call ‘short and fat’. Well, I could see that going through all that was hard for her, she was struggling to cope. So I was just doing what I could to help, giving her hugs and attention when she wanted it. I said nice things about her hair, trying to build her confidence, you see. But the damage must be worse than anyone could see because the things she has said.” He closed his eyes as if physically wounded. He continued, as if unable to open his eyes. “She tried to kill herself. I was distraught when I found out. I’d really come to care for her. But then when they asked her why, apparently she told them it was because of me. I’d…” He put his arms on his knees and cradled his head in his hands. He looked broken. Adam ground his teeth, his nostrils flared as he tried to breathe through the flame of fury that was flickering around his body. How could this girl do something like this? Didn’t she care who she was hurting?