chapter 4 suffer the little children

Content warning; child abuse

Chapter 4 – Suffer the little children

“Please, Rev Chaz, this is Claire, Claire Brady,” said Summer.  “My mum says you’ve come here to fix all the bad things, so can you fix it for her to be able to be safe at home?”

“I don’t know, Summer, but I can try.  Why aren’t you safe at home, Claire?”

Clair, a pretty, dark child who was a foil for Summer’s bright hair and pale skin, dug her toe into the carpet in the rectory sitting room, where she and Summer had been provided with cool drinks.

“I ... he will laugh at me,” said Claire.

“No, he won’t, tell him like you told me,” insisted Summer.

“I won’t laugh,” said Chaz.  “Even if I think you’ve misunderstood something, I won’t laugh because it’s what you believe which has upset you.  And I’ll try to sort it out.”

The story poured out, and Chaz listened, prompting occasionally when Claire flagged, as the tale of how her grandfather had come to live with them emerged.  The old man was beginning abuse after grooming over the last few weeks, and Chaz tried to make his expression more interested than grim.  At last, as Claire dissolved into sobs, he turned to Summer.

“You did quite right to bring her here. Now when you’ve finished your drinks, you let yourselves out the back door in the kitchen, and take Claire to your place, Honeysuckle Cottage, wasn’t it?  You can go over the back wall of my garden if you like, I notice there’s a handy compost heap to climb on and the drop isn’t much.  I explored already,” he added.

“There’s a brick out on the other side, too,” said Summer. “You can get into the garden by using it, but please don’t tell Mummy, she doesn’t know I scrumped apples and other fruit off old Reverend Shaw, she would call it stealing but I only did it when he had been specially rude to her.”

“Oh, that seems a fair penalty, to fine him for being rude,” said Chaz. “You have permission from me to come and help yourself to fruit when you want it, and it’s more fun to take it than to knock on the door and let me know, isn’t it?”

“Oh, you do understand!” said Summer.  “I can pretend I am scavenging for provisions in enemy territory like Robin Hood.”

“Exactly,” said Chaz.  “Oh!  There’s a tin of cakes on the kitchen top, in the green tin with stars, I was going to take them to your mother, you can save me the trouble and take them for me, and then there will be plenty for Claire and you for tea.”

“Now that’s what mummy calls a tactful lie, but thank you,” said Summer.

“Oh, I did intend to send cakes.  But perhaps not as many,” said Chaz.

“I like you,” said Summer, in approval, kissing his cheek.  “You don’t pretend not to be lying like some grownups.  And you tell it like it is when you are caught.  Come on, Claire!”

Chaz made his way to Sandy Lane, where Claire had told him she lived at number 5.  The cottages here were terraced and looked to be late 17^th century, built for workers in the clay pits, no doubt.  They were single storey, but most had dormer windows in the steep tile roofs, and a couple had what Chaz described to himself as dormer half-rooms, much of the roof taken up with a dormer extension.  One of two had a flat roof to the dormer, the other had an added slope down to it.  Chaz reckoned it was a worthwhile extra expense to prevent leaks.  This was number 5, and Chaz assessed the house as owned by practical people.

He knocked, and the door was opened by an older version of Clair, only with red hair.

“Vicar?” she said.

“Mrs. Brady?” said Chaz.

“Yes, what can I do for you?” asked Mrs. Brady. “I’m expecting my daughter home from school any minute.”

“May I come in?  I sent your daughter home with Summer Grey. She told me things which lead me to believe that your daughter is suffering sexual abuse.”

Mrs. Brady gasped.

“Who is it?  I’ll kill him!” she cried.  “I noticed she’d been quiet, I thought it was adapting to having my father-in-law living with us.”

“Well, yes it is; it’s he who has been abusing her,” said Chaz.

Mrs. Brady stared.

“But ... but how could it be?  He’s been married, and had children,” she said.

“That doesn’t stop abusers,” said Chaz, patiently.

“Could she have misunderstood?  Or be making it up because she feels pushed out?” tried Mrs. Brady.

“Your daughter is nine, Mrs. Brady, and in my experience children that young do not make up or imagine things like ‘he puts his thing in my mouth and makes me suck and then he wees white stuff’ so that is not going to wash with me.”

Mrs. Brady went white, and sat down heavily.

“I am going to kill him,” she repeated. “We give him a home so he doesn’t have to be around old folk all the time, now he can’t take care of himself properly, and he does this? But why?  Why so suddenly?”

“Is it suddenly?” said Chaz.  “Do you have sisters-in-law?  Have you asked them? Are there children he might have had some authority over?”

“He helped my mother-in-law with the Girl-Guides when she was alive,” said Mrs. Brady. “She was younger than him, but she died, unexpectedly, of a stroke at sixty-one ...”

“Or was helped because she caught him,” said Chaz, cynically.

The door opened and an old man came in.

“Emma, isn’t Claire home yet?” he said.  “I wanted her to help me tidy my bedroom.”

Mrs. Brady was up like a cat, grabbing the nearest knife, which was a steak knife, and held it to the old man’s trousers.

“Daniel Brady, have you been touching up my little girl?” she demanded.  “Think before you answer or you will lose what you have there.”

“Emma, stop making a drama of things,” said old Mr. Brady.  “I’ve shown her affection; she’s so flirtatious, she just asks for it.”

Chaz took the knife from Mrs. Brady before she could thrust it home, and held it to the old man’s throat in a far more workman-like way than the vengeful woman had held it.

“You will arrange to put him in a secure home where he will not be with children, or I will have the police in, and his care home will be Pentonville,” said Chaz.  “And you, Brady, will agree.”

“If she doesn’t want it, she shouldn’t flirt and flaunt herself,” whined Brady.

Thwack!

Mrs. Brady slapped her father-in-law so hard he fell over.

She dialled a number.

“Sunnyedge nursing home?  Yes, I have an urgent need for a secure ward,” she said.  “Yes, my father-in-law.  No, he can get about physically, but he has gone senile and is a risk to my family.  In what way?  Well, he keeps mistaking my pre-teen daughter for his wife, and acting inappropriately towards her.  Yes, she does resemble my late mother-in-law superficially ... well thank you.  I hope you won’t need to sedate him either.”  She put the phone down.  “They are coming right over,” she said.  “Will you take some eggs to Lucy Grey and ask her to keep Claire overnight?  I’ll just pack a few things for Claire in a bag for school tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Brady, for taking the risk seriously,” said Chaz.  “I learned martial arts after I was molested at school, and it’s a terrifying thing, even when not taken all the way. My door is always open for Claire if she wants to talk.  Or your sisters-in-law, for that matter.”

“I might just ring them and find out,” said Mrs. Brady.

Chaz left with a dozen eggs and a bag with clean underwear for Claire.

A vengeful mother would not be talked out of it by her husband if he did not believe her.  

He went to Honeysuckle cottage and knocked on the door. Lucy opened it.

“Rev Chaz!  The girls told me all about it; they are in their pyjamas early because Claire wanted to change so I put her in some of Summer’s after a nice hot bath.  Any joy with Mrs. Brady? She is always polite to me.”

“I took the knife off her before she cut his manhood off, or stabbed him in it,” said Chaz.

“Really? She goes up in my estimation,” said Lucy.  “Oh, are these clothes for tomorrow?”

“Yes, and a dozen eggs as a thank-you for taking care of Claire,” said Chaz.

“She didn’t need ...”

“It’s neighbourly,” said Chaz. “Likewise the cakes.  Your Summer has given me the chance to start in on the seething poison beneath the pretty surface of this village.”

“Well, I have to say I was glad to be able to give Claire and Summer something right away whilst I modified what I was cooking,” said Lucy.

“When I was at college, I didn’t like to seem too much better off than my fellows, and we made three slices of bacon go round four of us by throwing it and some stir-fried veg into rice, and topping it with a fried egg,” said Chaz.  “It was student-version of nasi goring, an Indonesian dish.  It goes round well.”

“I’ll remember that,” said Lucy. “And are you well off?”

“Yes,” said Chaz.  “But it doesn’t matter; it means I can sort things out without having to worry about it being expensive, or about being fired because I am not dependent on my salary. I do usually live within it, though.”

“Wow,” said Lucy.  “And yet you went to war, and became a vicar?”

“I believe in following my conscience,” said Chaz.  “I thought that being a soldier and doing my duty to my country would be enough, but it wasn’t.  So when my tour of duty ended, I resigned my commission and went to train in theology. I believe I am where I should be now.  And being able to help Claire has confirmed that for me.”

“I am glad you are here,” said Lucy, and then coloured.  “I’m sorry, that came out the wrong way; I’m not one of these women who makes a dead set for a handsome clergyman.”

“Lucy Grey, I suspect you will decide what you want, and pursue the course which is right for you without deviation, or indeed, er, hesitation or repetition,” he joked feebly, referencing the famous ‘Just a minute’ quiz.

“Kate Rosier said I shouldn’t send my brat to pester the vicar as a way to make you notice me,” said Lucy, resentfully.

“I don’t even know who Kate Rosier is,” said Chaz.

Lucy giggled.

“Really?  And she did her best to make sure you didn’t miss her in church,” she said.  “She wore a pink suit which ... no, that is catty.”

“Oh, the one in the skirt two sizes too small who looked like a chrysalis about to burst out into a death’s head moth?” said Chaz. “She has a self-image problem; that much make-up will make her old before she is thirty.”

“Oh, Kate considers herself an expert on makeup,” said Lucy. “She would be most put out, though she was wearing more than usual.”

“Oh well, hopefully she will grow out of the crush on the vicar, and will get to know me as a person,” said Chaz.  “I am glad you treat me as a person.”

“She was like this for the new doctor until he married his receptionist and moved,” said Lucy. “Maybe it is a self-image problem; poor Kate if so.  I will try not to mind what she says.”

“Attagirl,” said Chaz. “I am used to it; I can’t help noticing that I attract attention.  I try to ignore it mostly, but as a pretty young woman, you probably know all about it too.”

“With one difference,” said Lucy, dryly.  “The unattached women of the village will want to marry you.  The men, attached or otherwise, think I might be good for a bit of fun, but no more than that.”

“Dear me, two slightly different kinds of idiocy,” said Chaz.  “A perception problem, I fear.”

“I rather fancy you are going to be doing some serious mote and plank removal,” said Lucy.  “Do you think that Claire’s grandfather had hurt other people?”

“Yes,” said Chaz, soberly.  “His late wife’s Girl Guides, who must be mostly grown up, I should think, but I need to find out.”

“I will see what I can find out, if you’d like?” said Lucy.

“Bless you, yes,” said Chaz.  “Mrs. Brady told the nursing home that he was treating her daughter like his wife and that he was senile.”

“That’s fairly brilliant, actually, and more certain than a prosecution,” said Lucy.

“I wanted him out of that house fast,” said Chaz. “It may not have been the best thing to do, but we will see if his other victims want to bring a case or if they prefer to just pick up the pieces by themselves. I don’t think there’s ever an easy answer, and so long as he is shut away safe, I would hope that will help.”

“I doubt he’d survive gaol,” said Lucy.

“No, he wouldn’t,” said Chaz.  “I did a stint as prison chaplain, and the feelings towards perverts run deep.  I personally think it’s a terrible mental illness; where normal men see a little girl playing without being aware of her body, a paedophile sees her as flirting and flaunting her body because to him it is a sexual thing on display.  Don’t get me wrong, it does not make them the less dangerous to society, and they need to be locked away.  And they know it is wrong, or they would not hide their feelings and behaviour.”

“I see,” said Lucy.  “Summer goes to play with Claire at times, and last week she said Claire’s granddad asked if she would like to sit on his lap while he told a story and she was indignant and said she was not a baby ... do you think....?”

“Yes, I do,” said Chaz.  “Because you don’t have support to help you.  They target the vulnerable.”

“I know it is selfish, but Oh! I am glad he had not already touched Summer,” said Lucy.

“Me too,” said Chaz.