answer her questions.
When they arrived at her aunt’s house, she ran across the sitting room, yelling, ‘Uncle Harry!’ and throwing her arms around his waist.
‘Hello, princess,’ he grinned. Then, taking her hand he sat down on the armchair, pulling her onto his lap. ‘How’s my favourite girl then?’
‘I’ve got a new friend and her name’s Ann.’
‘That’s nice, dear,’ he said, smiling indulgently.
‘Where’s me gran?’ Sally asked, looking at her empty chair.
‘She’s got a nasty cold and is upstairs in bed. But don’t worry, you can pop up to see her when she wakes up.’
‘Harry, do you mind staying in and keeping an eye on mum while we go to the market?’ Mary asked anxiously.
‘No, of course not. I’ll keep Sally company.’
As the door closed behind her mother and aunt, Sally sighed contentedly and snuggled closer to her uncle. It was lovely to have him all to herself. ‘I wish you was me dad,’ she told him wistfully as he stroked her hair.
‘Now then, Sally, your father wouldn’t like to hear you saying things like that,’ he gently admonished.
‘He wouldn’t care. He doesn’t like me,’ she told him sadly.
‘Of course he does. You’re a lovely girl and I’m sure he’s very proud of you.’
She nibbled her thumbnail. If only I could tell him what me dad’s really like, she thought. He would never let me sit on his lap like this. ‘Uncle Harry, will you tell me a story?’
‘All right, darling,’ he said, giving her a fond squeeze. ‘Once upon a time …’
The warmth of the fire, the gentle ticking of the clock and her uncle’s soft voice soothed her, and as she lay curled in his lap, her eyelids grew heavy.
‘Hey, are you going to sleep?’ he joked, sitting forward and tickling her playfully under the arms.
She chuckled, wriggling away from his touch, arms tight to her sides. ‘No, no, I was listening, honest. Oh don’t, Uncle Harry, don’t tickle me.’
He stopped abruptly and she frowned, sensing his change of mood. He wasn’t laughing now as he clutched her around the waist, pressing her down and writhing beneath her, groaning softly. She stiffened with fear when his hand went under her skirt, moving up her leg, touching her.
‘What are you doing? Stop – I don’t like it!’ she cried, closing her legs tightly together.
‘Come on, princess,’ he urged. ‘You love me, don’t you?’
Terrified, she tried to squirm away from his probing fingers. ‘Ouch! Let me go! Please, let me go,’ she begged. This was wrong, her uncle was doing naughty things, hurting her, and she fought to get off his lap.
He suddenly removed his hand and shuffled to one side. Then, before she had time to react, he picked her up and abruptly crammed her into the small space beside him. ‘It’s all right, darling, I’m just showing you how much I love you,’ he panted, his hands fumbling with the front of his trousers.
She sat rigid with fear, staring with wide-eyed horror as he got his thing out, holding it clenched in his fist as he thrust it towards her.
‘Here, Sally,’ he urged, his eyes glazed and dark. ‘You hold it.’
‘No!’ she yelped, frantically trying to move away, but finding herself trapped as he leaned over her.
‘Come on, Sally,’ he cajoled, while his other hand began to travel up her leg again.
She opened her mouth to scream – and the door opened.
Ruth stood rooted in the doorway, frozen in disbelief. No, it couldn’t be, her eyes were deceiving her. A surge of hot, intense rage suddenly infused her mind, freeing her feet and propelling her across the room. She grabbed Sally’s arm, yanking her out of the chair with such force that she landed in a heap on the floor.
‘You dirty bastard, you animal, she’s only ten years old!’ she cried, as her hands lashed out, beating Harry again and again around his face and head, while he cowered, his arms held up protectively.
‘Ruth, Ruth, stop it, what on earth are you
When they arrived at her aunt’s house, she ran across the sitting room, yelling, ‘Uncle Harry!’ and throwing her arms around his waist.
‘Hello, princess,’ he grinned. Then, taking her hand he sat down on the armchair, pulling her onto his lap. ‘How’s my favourite girl then?’
‘I’ve got a new friend and her name’s Ann.’
‘That’s nice, dear,’ he said, smiling indulgently.
‘Where’s me gran?’ Sally asked, looking at her empty chair.
‘She’s got a nasty cold and is upstairs in bed. But don’t worry, you can pop up to see her when she wakes up.’
‘Harry, do you mind staying in and keeping an eye on mum while we go to the market?’ Mary asked anxiously.
‘No, of course not. I’ll keep Sally company.’
As the door closed behind her mother and aunt, Sally sighed contentedly and snuggled closer to her uncle. It was lovely to have him all to herself. ‘I wish you was me dad,’ she told him wistfully as he stroked her hair.
‘Now then, Sally, your father wouldn’t like to hear you saying things like that,’ he gently admonished.
‘He wouldn’t care. He doesn’t like me,’ she told him sadly.
‘Of course he does. You’re a lovely girl and I’m sure he’s very proud of you.’
She nibbled her thumbnail. If only I could tell him what me dad’s really like, she thought. He would never let me sit on his lap like this. ‘Uncle Harry, will you tell me a story?’
‘All right, darling,’ he said, giving her a fond squeeze. ‘Once upon a time …’
The warmth of the fire, the gentle ticking of the clock and her uncle’s soft voice soothed her, and as she lay curled in his lap, her eyelids grew heavy.
‘Hey, are you going to sleep?’ he joked, sitting forward and tickling her playfully under the arms.
She chuckled, wriggling away from his touch, arms tight to her sides. ‘No, no, I was listening, honest. Oh don’t, Uncle Harry, don’t tickle me.’
He stopped abruptly and she frowned, sensing his change of mood. He wasn’t laughing now as he clutched her around the waist, pressing her down and writhing beneath her, groaning softly. She stiffened with fear when his hand went under her skirt, moving up her leg, touching her.
‘What are you doing? Stop – I don’t like it!’ she cried, closing her legs tightly together.
‘Come on, princess,’ he urged. ‘You love me, don’t you?’
Terrified, she tried to squirm away from his probing fingers. ‘Ouch! Let me go! Please, let me go,’ she begged. This was wrong, her uncle was doing naughty things, hurting her, and she fought to get off his lap.
He suddenly removed his hand and shuffled to one side. Then, before she had time to react, he picked her up and abruptly crammed her into the small space beside him. ‘It’s all right, darling, I’m just showing you how much I love you,’ he panted, his hands fumbling with the front of his trousers.
She sat rigid with fear, staring with wide-eyed horror as he got his thing out, holding it clenched in his fist as he thrust it towards her.
‘Here, Sally,’ he urged, his eyes glazed and dark. ‘You hold it.’
‘No!’ she yelped, frantically trying to move away, but finding herself trapped as he leaned over her.
‘Come on, Sally,’ he cajoled, while his other hand began to travel up her leg again.
She opened her mouth to scream – and the door opened.
Ruth stood rooted in the doorway, frozen in disbelief. No, it couldn’t be, her eyes were deceiving her. A surge of hot, intense rage suddenly infused her mind, freeing her feet and propelling her across the room. She grabbed Sally’s arm, yanking her out of the chair with such force that she landed in a heap on the floor.
‘You dirty bastard, you animal, she’s only ten years old!’ she cried, as her hands lashed out, beating Harry again and again around his face and head, while he cowered, his arms held up protectively.
‘Ruth, Ruth, stop it, what on earth are you
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