second for the door to open. Her
breathing was a shallow flutter and her stomach sickened. Those seconds seemed to last for hours.
Sidney turned the doorknob back and forth several times. After what seemed an eternity she heard his footsteps moving away and he retreated up to his own room. She gasped for breath, shaking all
over. It took her a very long time to get to sleep, convinced that if she did she would open her eyes and find him in her bedroom. For what, she did not know, but the thought terrified her.
It became a hobby of Sidney’s to torment her. In the daytime, if they ever ran into each other in the house, he almost always laid a hand on her somewhere in passing. It might have been
only on her shoulder as she dashed past him, on her thigh at the table when no one else was looking, or a pat on the head. She never stayed long enough near him for him to repeat his first groping
up her dress. But it was as if every time he saw her he was warning her –
I can do what I like when I like. I’m biding my time and don’t you forget it.
Rachel was too young and innocent to have any real idea what he might do, but his air of threat sent her into a constant state of vigilant fear. One afternoon she could not bear it any longer.
She went to Peggy in the back room, and found her leaning over the table, cutting a piece of green cloth.
‘Mom?’
‘Umm – I’m very busy, Rachel, as you can see.’
‘I . . .’ Her throat closed with tears and she could not speak. As she stood at the door, wiping her eyes, Peggy looked up.
‘Oh dear –’ Her tone lay somewhere between sympathy and impatience. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’
‘It’s . . .’ It was hard to find the right words for the nightmare of her bedroom hours now. ‘It’s Sidney,’ she blurted. ‘He keeps . . . He keeps coming
and bothering me.’
‘Sidney?’ Peggy was listening now, the scissors held down at her side. ‘What d’you mean?’
‘He keeps coming to my bedroom.’ Nothing could capture the terror of it. Her words seemed tame. ‘Saying things.’
‘What – into your bedroom?’ There was a note of alarm.
Rachel shook her head. ‘No, but he keeps saying things.’
‘Oh –’ Peggy was a bit puzzled – none of this seemed serious. ‘Well, he’s your brother now, sort of. You’ve never had brothers to deal with before.
I’ll ask him not to tease you too much – but you need to toughen up a bit, dear. Girls who have brothers get used to this sort of thing.’
Did they? Rachel wondered. How did Mom know? She had no brothers. And Lilian didn’t have to get used to this, did she? Her brother was only little.
‘Just tell him to stop teasing you. He’s a silly boy that one.’
Rachel could see her mother’s eyes drawn back to the cutting out. She drifted away, with a desperate, lonely feeling inside.
She realized that her bedroom door opened inwards and using every bit of strength, when she went to bed, she managed, bit by bit, to haul the end of the chest of drawers up close to it. Every
morning she had to shift it again but it made her feel safer. At least he could not get the door open.
But it did not stop him standing at the door, tormenting her.
‘Rachel – I’m here. You can hear me, I know you can.’ There would be that rattle of the doorknob. ‘Shall I come in? You want me to, don’t yer? You’re a
dirty girl – I know you are. Shall I come in and play some games with you?’
The names he called her got worse. She often didn’t know what he was talking about but his talk made her feel sick and soiled. She was being accused of things, labelled with things. Was
she dirty? What did that mean?
‘You’re a dirty girl, aren’t yer? Eh? A dirty little ho. I know what you’re up to . . . I’m going to come and show you what’s good for yer . . .’ On and
on he rambled, night after night, his hand on the doorknob, turning it as if he was about to break into the room.
This went on, most
breathing was a shallow flutter and her stomach sickened. Those seconds seemed to last for hours.
Sidney turned the doorknob back and forth several times. After what seemed an eternity she heard his footsteps moving away and he retreated up to his own room. She gasped for breath, shaking all
over. It took her a very long time to get to sleep, convinced that if she did she would open her eyes and find him in her bedroom. For what, she did not know, but the thought terrified her.
It became a hobby of Sidney’s to torment her. In the daytime, if they ever ran into each other in the house, he almost always laid a hand on her somewhere in passing. It might have been
only on her shoulder as she dashed past him, on her thigh at the table when no one else was looking, or a pat on the head. She never stayed long enough near him for him to repeat his first groping
up her dress. But it was as if every time he saw her he was warning her –
I can do what I like when I like. I’m biding my time and don’t you forget it.
Rachel was too young and innocent to have any real idea what he might do, but his air of threat sent her into a constant state of vigilant fear. One afternoon she could not bear it any longer.
She went to Peggy in the back room, and found her leaning over the table, cutting a piece of green cloth.
‘Mom?’
‘Umm – I’m very busy, Rachel, as you can see.’
‘I . . .’ Her throat closed with tears and she could not speak. As she stood at the door, wiping her eyes, Peggy looked up.
‘Oh dear –’ Her tone lay somewhere between sympathy and impatience. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’
‘It’s . . .’ It was hard to find the right words for the nightmare of her bedroom hours now. ‘It’s Sidney,’ she blurted. ‘He keeps . . . He keeps coming
and bothering me.’
‘Sidney?’ Peggy was listening now, the scissors held down at her side. ‘What d’you mean?’
‘He keeps coming to my bedroom.’ Nothing could capture the terror of it. Her words seemed tame. ‘Saying things.’
‘What – into your bedroom?’ There was a note of alarm.
Rachel shook her head. ‘No, but he keeps saying things.’
‘Oh –’ Peggy was a bit puzzled – none of this seemed serious. ‘Well, he’s your brother now, sort of. You’ve never had brothers to deal with before.
I’ll ask him not to tease you too much – but you need to toughen up a bit, dear. Girls who have brothers get used to this sort of thing.’
Did they? Rachel wondered. How did Mom know? She had no brothers. And Lilian didn’t have to get used to this, did she? Her brother was only little.
‘Just tell him to stop teasing you. He’s a silly boy that one.’
Rachel could see her mother’s eyes drawn back to the cutting out. She drifted away, with a desperate, lonely feeling inside.
She realized that her bedroom door opened inwards and using every bit of strength, when she went to bed, she managed, bit by bit, to haul the end of the chest of drawers up close to it. Every
morning she had to shift it again but it made her feel safer. At least he could not get the door open.
But it did not stop him standing at the door, tormenting her.
‘Rachel – I’m here. You can hear me, I know you can.’ There would be that rattle of the doorknob. ‘Shall I come in? You want me to, don’t yer? You’re a
dirty girl – I know you are. Shall I come in and play some games with you?’
The names he called her got worse. She often didn’t know what he was talking about but his talk made her feel sick and soiled. She was being accused of things, labelled with things. Was
she dirty? What did that mean?
‘You’re a dirty girl, aren’t yer? Eh? A dirty little ho. I know what you’re up to . . . I’m going to come and show you what’s good for yer . . .’ On and
on he rambled, night after night, his hand on the doorknob, turning it as if he was about to break into the room.
This went on, most
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