Read Punished: A mother’s cruelty. A daughter’s survival. A secret that couldn’t be told. for Free Online Page B

in pretty dresses. She was careful to tie an apron round my neck when we were bottling the fruit or baking so my clothes didn’t get dirty. I think she was wary on my behalf because she had seen firsthand the kind of trouble I got into with Mum if I got my clothes dirty.
    Once when we visited, I was wearing an exquisite outfit that Mum had made for me. It was a dress in an eggshell blue colour with white spots on it, and a matching coat that was lined in the dress fabric. It had a little velvet collar and I absolutely adored it. Granddad took me for a walk down to the farm to collect some eggs and as I picked one up it slipped from my grasp. I tried to catch it and the shell broke, splattering egg down the front of my coat.
    I was nervous as we walked back to the house because I knew Mum was there.
    ‘Don’t worry,’ Granddad assured me. ‘We’ll sponge that off good as new.’
    But when she saw the mess, Mum went wild. She snatched the coat from me, grabbed a pair of sharp scissors that were hanging on a hook on the kitchen wall and proceeded to cut it into tiny pieces.
    ‘See what I’m doing? See what you’ve made me do?’ Mum’s voice rose as she became more furious. The velvet collar fell to the floor in shreds as I watched in horror. ‘You’re a dirty, messy girl who doesn’t deserve to have anything nice!’
    Nan and Granddad tried to stop her. ‘Muriel, she’s only a child. Accidents happen,’ they remonstrated, but she was in a frenzy, not listening to anyone. I stood and sobbed, upset that yet again Mummy was cross with me, and Nan pulled me on to her knee for a hug, whispering, ‘It’s allright, don’t worry. You’ll get another coat even nicer than that one.’
    Mum didn’t often lose her temper to this extent in front of Nan and Granddad but there was another occasion when Granddad saw her wrench the spinning top from me and hurl it across the room. I suspect they knew that she was volatile and it must have been hard for them to send me back home with her again, but what could they do? It was not the done thing to interfere with the way somebody brought up their children. But Nan could see how terrified I was of my mother and how much I hated my life at home. As the time to leave approached, I’d get more and more miserable. When it actually was time, I’d be filled with dread and beg my grandmother to hide me in the cellar, but of course she couldn’t. I didn’t tell her about all the punishments I suffered at home – the bean cane, the spider cupboard, the bee stings – because I assumed these were all normal things that happened to little girls who were naughty. Nevertheless, I’m sure she could sense that my fear was in no way normal.
    I was very secure in Nan Casey’s love for me, and maybe this gave me some of the resources I needed to survive the treatment I experienced in the rest of my life. She was a traditional grandmother and Nigel and I were the only grandchildren she had to fuss over, because Aunt Audrey had emigrated to Canada by this time and Dad’s brother Graham and youngest sister Gilly hadn’t yet had children. I felt very protected by Nan when I was at Rugeley, the way all young children should feel.
    If we were staying the weekend at Nan’s, she took us to Sunday school. Once I was chatting to her as we walked home together.
    ‘Today we learnt a hymn called “Jesus Loves the Little Children”,’ I said.
    ‘Did you, sweetheart? That sounds nice.’
    ‘But Jesus doesn’t love me.’
    Nan looked at me, frowning. ‘Why do you say that?’
    ‘God doesn’t love me, so Jesus doesn’t love me either,’ I said, confident of my childish logic. ‘God doesn’t love me because I’m ugly and fat and naughty.’
    Nan looked horrified. ‘Vanessa, God loves all his children equally and you are a very, very special child. Never forget that.’
    ‘But God tells Mummy I’ve done horrible things and that I need to be punished,’ I told her. ‘He doesn’t like