The Moors: Some secrets are better left buried (8 page)

CHAPTER NINE
The Boy from Room Four
Sunday 13
th
February, 1972

Amanda was undoubtedly making progress with her investigation, but as she helped Margaret prepare dinner her eyes continued to wander back to the kitchen clock that ticked away relentlessly on the wall. She could not escape the fact she was running out of time and if she was going to be satisfied she’d done all she could, she would have to be more aggressive in her approach.

‘Maggie, where’s David?’ she asked.

Margaret, in the midst of peeling potatoes, hesitated – only for the slightest moment, but enough to let Amanda know the question made her feel uneasy.

‘I’m sorry dear?’ she said, clearly buying herself a little more thinking time.

‘David. The boy from room four. You showed me his bedroom but I haven’t met him yet,’ she queried.

‘Oh yes. Of course! Young David,’ said Margaret, trying to disguise her discomfort. ‘He’s being disciplined,’ she eventually revealed.

‘Disciplined?’

‘Yes. By Christian.’

‘Disciplined how?’ asked Amanda, sensing that she wouldn’t like the answer.

‘The usual. Time in the isolation room,’ Margaret informed her, smacking her lips together as though her mouth was dry.

‘The isolation room?’ Amanda repeated, judgingly. ‘Is that on the top floor?’

‘That’s right, dear,’ Margaret confirmed.

‘Maggie, I’ve been here since Friday! The boy’s been left alone for all this time?’

‘Well… I go and talk to him when I can, but Christian thinks it’s best he be left alone to think about what he did,’ revealed Margaret.

‘And what did he do, exactly?’

‘He tried to glue the doors shut and burn the house down when we were all sleeping.’

The answer was definitely more extreme than Amanda had expected. If it was true – and she had no reason to disbelieve Margaret – then the act was both shocking and malicious. Though quite why a young boy would behave in such a way was the main point of interest.

‘Don’t be too alarmed,’ said Margaret, responding to Amanda’s silence. ‘He’s a lovely boy. He just needs to be watched closely. He suffers from bouts of paranoia, you see.’

Amanda had read about paranoia in one of her books. It was often the cause of many extreme acts and many experts agreed that those who suffered from such psychological burdens were a significant danger within society because they were so incredibly unpredictable. One leading doctor from the States concluded that the key to crime prevention was in identifying the increasing frequency and severity of the person’s impulses as it was never a case of
if
such people committed heinous crimes, but
when
.

‘How often does he act like that?’ asked Amanda.

‘Sometimes he says he sees things; horrific things! We keep telling him it’s all in his head, but he won’t have it. He accuses everyone of being against him and gets himself in a right state. Walt thinks he may be schizophrenic,’ Margaret told her.

‘Walter isn’t qualified to make such judgements,’ Amanda seethed, becoming increasingly frustrated at the liberties they each appeared to be taking with a boy who was in clear and desperate need of help. ‘You know what? This is bullshit!’

‘I’m sorry?’ said Margaret, taken aback and unsure of how to react to Amanda’s sudden assertion.

‘Give me the key to the attic,’ Amanda demanded of her.

Feeling pressured, Margaret hesitated.

‘I can’t, my lovely.’

‘Give me the key to the isolation room.
Please
!’ asked Amanda, replacing her aggression with a tone that implied she only wanted to help.

‘Sweetie, I can’t. I don’t have it,’ Margaret informed her.

‘Then who does?’

Based on what Margaret had already said, Amanda assumed the person that held the key would be Christian. She was right. Had it have been Karen that was responsible for the boy’s misery then it would have made a lot more sense, but that Christian – a seemingly carefree and charming man – was capable of such sinister, dated behaviour without showing a shred of empathy was somehow more disturbing. To Amanda, it was evidence she could trust nothing she had seen so far within the home. She needed to see the boy and if confronting the homeowner was the only way to achieve that, then so be it.

*
 

‘No. Now’s not a good time,’ Christian said into the telephone.

‘Well, you said you wanted me to get my best guy and I got him,’ said a gruff voice on the other end of the line.

‘I appreciate that, but like I said, it’s a delicate time,’ repeated Christian, authoritatively.

Calling from a payphone in town was a rugged man named Andy. Many of the locals were afraid of Andy as he was feisty and never shied away from a fight. This didn’t bother Christian, though. In fact, the Christian that dealt with Andy so sternly cut a very different figure to the man that was often so playful around Amanda.

He looked up to the locked office door as it was tested from the other side. Frustrated, Amanda banged hard from the hallway.

‘Christian, it’s, Amanda. I’d like to speak with you, please.’

‘I’ll call you back,’ Christian said to Andy, hanging up before awaiting a response.

As Christian opened the door, Amanda looked sour and his mother flustered as she squirmed in the background. He monitored the pair of them with intrigue.

‘Can I help?’ he asked.

‘Yes. I’d like the key to the isolation room,’ said Amanda, bluntly.

‘Why’s that?’ asked Christian, calmly.

‘He’s been locked in there for far too long! That’s why!’ she simmered.

‘Look…’ began Christian, slinking back into his office as he arranged loose pieces of paper into a pile. ‘I appreciate your concern, but we have certain rules here. The children know where they stand with those rules and we can’t just change them without warning. It’ll confuse them,’ he claimed.

‘That’s very thoughtful of you but I feel confusion is probably less damaging than isolation,’ retorted Amanda, with a boldness that threatened to shed her false skin.

Christian took a moment to gauge her and suddenly Amanda became aware she had revealed a significant part of her true self. The exposure made her feel momentarily vulnerable.

‘This conversation is over,’ said Christian, reclaiming the seat at his desk and looking down at the paperwork he had assembled like a newsreader playing up for the cameras during the closing credits.

However, Amanda persevered, stepping into his office without permission – a simple act that seemed to irk Christian and worry Margaret greatly. She knew how particular her son was with his rules and feared Amanda would soon cross a line from which she would be unable to return.

‘Amanda love…’ she tried to interject, but Amanda’s cards were brazenly on the table.

For her, it was time to raise the stakes.

‘You know what? You were honest with me today so I’m going to be honest with you,’ Amanda began. ‘When I was young, my stepfather raped me. Repeatedly. Over and over again for almost three years. My mum stayed with him the whole time and when I tried to tell her, she didn’t…’

Amanda fought to stay focused amidst her emotions.

‘She didn’t believe me,’ she eventually added. ‘Looking back now, do you know who I blame for everything? I blame her. Not the man who touched me in ways he never should have; not the man who grossly took advantage of a helpless child, but my own mother, because
she
had the power to stop it and she chose not to.’

Amanda took a further step towards Christian’s desk as she locked her sorrow-filled eyes onto his.

‘Christian, the children in this house don’t need to be condemned. They can still live a happy life, but when David grows up, he’ll remember that you had the power to help him. He’s just a boy,’ she said, softly.

Suddenly, Karen marched towards the open office door.

‘What’s going on here?’ she spat, incensed at her exclusion.

‘Just a minute!’ said Christian, dismissing her as he considered Amanda’s plea.

He looked towards his mother, who stared straight back at him.‘Do you trust me?’ he asked of Amanda.

It was not the response she was expecting.

‘What kind of question’s that?’ she hesitated. ‘I hardly know you.’

‘But do you
trust
me?’ he asked again, with a little more intensity. ‘I am the homeowner. It’s my name on the wall. I wanted you to work here because, out of all the applicants, you were by far the best suited to this home. I chose you because I felt you would understand why we do things differently here.’

‘All I’m saying is…’

‘Please!’ interrupted Christian. ‘I have listened to you, and now I ask that you listen to me. You need to make a decision right now. Either you leave the home, with no hard feelings, and return to your life in the city, or you stay here. If you stay, I assure you, you will learn precisely why these rules are in place. This is your choice to make and yours alone, but today, right now, I
cannot
release David from the room. Nor can I let you inside.’

Amanda looked down. Her colleagues probably thought she was looking at the floor, but she was looking towards her belly, where she believed her own child lay. It was Sunday. The day she had promised to return home. Tony would be expecting her in the office that evening to report her findings, but she knew that when she saw her man, it would not be the story of the care home that would take precedent. Instead, it would be her turn to act in an uncharacteristically sentimental way. She would tell him that she loved him completely. She would inform him that she was carrying his baby and then they would go to bed and make love. It would be the beginning of their new life together; a future that had been destined all along.

Amanda had visited the home and stayed for three days as intended, and despite learning of some unorthodox methods, there was no stonewall evidence that the abuse the children had suffered came from the carers. Christian had given her the out she needed to walk away without suspicion… but there was something about the way he had just spoken.

“
If you stay, I assure you, you will learn precisely why these rules are in place
.”

Whatever did that mean? It was the most peculiar way he could have phrased it and, as with so many other facts regarding the home, she felt there was something just beneath the surface that, if she scratched just a little deeper, could lead to something of real significance.

She loved Tony. She knew that now and if she was true to him their love would last a lifetime. Therefore, what harm could a couple more days do?

‘I don’t care if it happens inside or outside of that room, but I want to meet David tomorrow. I’ve told you my reasons. Promise me that and I’ll stay,’ Amanda bargained.

Karen scoffed in the background.

Margaret frowned at Karen’s reaction as she held onto the hope Amanda had done enough to bring her son to his senses. As a silence ensued, Karen’s smug expression morphed into one of discomfort.

‘You can’t be considering this?’ Karen hissed.

‘Would you just be quiet?’ said Christian, shedding a little of his own false skin.

He looked back to Amanda and offered a hearty smile.

‘I promise. Tomorrow you can meet David.’

CHAPTER TEN
Testing Borders
Sunday 13
th
February, 1972

Amanda waltzed around the kitchen, adding creative touches to dinner as though she had been there for many years. Suddenly, she felt optimistic about her efforts making a difference towards the children within the house. No longer was Margaret the only one who lightened their mood. Instead, it had become a burden both women shared and this was a reality in which they revelled.

She pulled a block of cheese out of the fridge and then flipped open a couple of cupboards to retrieve a small grater and a large oven-proof dish. Tonight, she would make her special cauliflower cheese to accompany the roast chicken dinner both she and Margaret were preparing. Amanda had learnt how to cook when she was young on account of largely having to look after herself, but she never thought she’d enjoy the kitchen as much as she did at that moment. She looked up to notice Margaret staring at her; her usual grin replaced with a sullen expression.

‘What’s wrong?’ asked Amanda.

‘Amanda Connors. Black hair. Light frame. Green eyes. Abusive father. Neglectful mother. Determined spirit. I knew I’d met you before.’

It was inevitable. Margaret had finally remembered her from Saint Matthews care home. Amanda’s initial reaction was to feel bad about saying she’d never heard of the place. If it wasn’t for Saint Matthews, and Margaret in particular, working so hard to stabilise her traumatic childhood, Amanda dreaded to think what would have happened to her. Denying the place was one thing, but telling an outright lie to Margaret was quite another.

‘Maggie, I…’ 

As far as Margaret was concerned, there was no need for words. Instead, she stepped towards Amanda and pulled her into a hug. Amanda chuckled at first, awkwardly patting the woman on the back. She expected the moment to soon pass, but it didn’t. Margaret pulled her tighter, making it clear she wouldn’t settle for a half-hearted embrace. Eventually, Amanda’s resistance fell and she held Margaret equally as tight.

‘What a fine, fine woman you grew up to be. I’m so proud of you,’ Margaret whispered sweetly. ‘Everybody at Saint Matthews would be, too.’

Her kind words took Amanda by surprise and somewhere deep down, they resonated. Suddenly, Amanda was the one who was clutching the tightest.

Right on cue, Karen entered in the midst of her candle-lighting routine. She frowned upon the alien behaviour taking place before her in a desperate attempt to belittle the moment, but it didn’t work. The two women continued the embrace and it was Karen who felt out of place by the time she quitted the room. On their own terms, Margaret and Amanda pulled away from one another, exchanging looks of genuine respect as they each ensured the other was okay. Tearful but happy, they moved around the room smiling as they continued their work in therapeutic silence.

*
 

At the dinner table, the feeling that anything was possible continued to stimulate Amanda as she monitored the other residents’ behaviour closely. With the exception of David, Ellie and the groundskeeper, whom Amanda had yet to encounter, they were all in attendance. Margaret spoon-fed Malcolm having mashed his dinner up into a paste, making it easier to digest; Walter helped Gordon by cutting his food into small pieces; Christian watched over Georgina as they both enjoyed their meal and upon looking at Reuben, who was sat staring at Amanda, she playfully poked her tongue out at him. He didn’t expect it and was forced into a slow, secret smile. Indeed, Karen was the only carer neglecting to actually show care for anyone around her as she ate in stony silence. She didn’t acknowledge a soul, including her doting husband. All in all, things had taken shape quite nicely, but Amanda felt there was still progress to be made before the day was through.

‘What are we going to do about Ellie?’ she asked.

‘Oh, I’ll take her dinner up when I’m done,’ answered Christian, casually, politely covering his mouth with a napkin as he spoke.

‘I was talking more about the fact she doesn’t really interact with anyone.’

As if by magic, her words had managed to steal Karen’s attention.

‘We each see Ellie every day,’ added Walter, just to make sure she knew that was the case.

‘That’s great! As you should, but that’s up in her room, right? She’s holed up with barely any daylight. It’s not good for her,’ said Amanda.

‘Alright. That’s it!’ snapped Karen. ‘I’ve had enough of your interference! We’ve run this home a good many years before you got here and we’ll continue to do so long after you’ve gone. These children are sick and they need routine,’ she insisted.

‘I agree, but some of the
routines
you provide would be better suited in a prison,’ quipped Amanda, adopting the same kind of laidback demeanour she’d seen Christian use when winding her up so effectively.

‘Are you going to sit there and listen to this?’ Karen asked of Christian.

Amanda found it odd that she would always look to him for support as opposed to her husband.

Christian thought for a moment as he calmly chewed on his food. He crossed the cutlery on his plate and placed his elbows on the table as he interlinked his fingers, peering at Amanda over the top of his clasped hands.

‘What would you propose we do?’ he asked her.

‘I didn’t mean reason with her!’ Karen seethed.

‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear her thoughts. I’m sure she means well but, by the same token, she may not realise the severity of Ellie’s condition, so I’m happy to talk this through,’ he insisted.

‘This is outrageous!’ spat Karen as she squirmed in her chair.

Yet another stage had been set on which Amanda intended to shine.

‘You’re quite right. I don’t know everything about Ellie yet, but I’ve been here for three days now and seen her only once and spending so much time alone, especially when vulnerable,
cannot
be helping. The same goes for David,’ she added.

‘Now she’s a psychologist!’ Karen mocked.

Amanda knew that Karen’s impatience was a sign she was winning, so she ignored her petty comments and explained herself collectedly, focusing all of her attention on Christian.

‘All I ask is to spend more time with them both so I can integrate them better with the other children. It will help,’ she assured him, feeling absolutely convinced herself.

‘I have no problem with that,’ admitted Christian. ‘But my primary concern is safety, so I want you to spend time alone with Ellie in her room until you’re sure you can handle her around the others. Agreed?’

As Christian spoke, Amanda had noted the reactions of everybody around the table. It was clear they couldn’t quite believe what they were hearing. In a place so regimented, rules didn’t simply change at the drop of a hat, yet there he was agreeing to almost anything Amanda requested. He would add his own set of conditions, but all the same, Amanda had to give him credit. He was hard but fair and that was cause for great optimism. In the faces of Margaret and the children, Amanda could sense her own inner joy was shared by those that mattered.

‘Excellent!’ Amanda beamed. ‘I’ll start by taking Ellie her dinner.’

*
 

The verbal agreement to spend some one-on-one time with Ellie was a significant step in the right direction, but as Amanda approached the girl’s bedroom and fumbled for key number 5, her mind told her that winning Ellie’s acceptance would be another battle entirely. In one hand, she balanced a tray that held a plastic plate, plastic cutlery and an apple. She had been told that plastics had to be used with Ellie at all times due to her attempts at suicide and these utensils were only allowed whilst Ellie was in the company of an adult.

Upon reaching door 5, Amanda was sharply reminded of their last encounter. She observed the hand that held the tray. It was shaking. Not until that moment did Amanda realise she was genuinely afraid. However, getting Ellie onside was a key part of her plan and so without delaying any further, she took a deep breath and unlocked the door. She darted inside and placed the tray on the floor before Ellie had time to register her presence. As suspected, she wasn’t best pleased to see Amanda, who was little more than a stranger to her. Ellie jumped up from her bed and charged at the intruder, but now that Amanda knew what to expect, the struggle that ensued wasn’t quite so daunting and she dealt with the situation far more easily, manoeuvring Ellie into a grip where, despite her impressive strength and determination, she was unable to cause any damage. Amanda closed her eyes and started to count. It was one hundred and eighteen seconds before Ellie’s rage subsided. Little-by-little, Amanda released her grip, tightening it again immediately when Ellie’s aggression rose, teaching the youngster that her freedom came at the price of calmness. Like a dog whose trainer tightened a lead around its neck whenever it did wrong, Ellie soon learnt that she would be afforded her space if only she relaxed.

Once free, Ellie ran back over to her bed, curling up into a foetal position with her back to Amanda and her hands covering her ears. Her body language suggested she felt hard done by. Amanda monitored her for several minutes and gathered that the girl merely felt frustrated – completely understandable given that she had been treated like a prisoner.

Amanda sat patiently with her back against the wall and the plate of food lying on the floor between them. On her first visit to the room, she hadn’t noticed a small bowl on the floor that appeared to be her toilet. Maybe it was empty last time, but right now the half-filled bowl of urine stank up the place. It had been partially spilled in the tussle and the smell made the silence seem eternal.

‘You have a beautiful name!’ said Amanda, desperate to begin a conversation.

As a child, particularly a child in the custody of various homes and foster parents, Amanda had been in front of endless adults trying to negotiate a way to win her trust. It was the sincere way that her own favourite artificial mother had complimented her name that led Amanda to often use this as her opening line when talking to children.

‘I knew a girl called Ellie when I was at school. She was my best friend,’ she continued.

Amanda did not expect a response but she knew the girl could do nothing but listen. Therefore, she reasoned that if she was nice enough, Ellie would drop her defences eventually. The girl simply wasn’t used to company and so couldn’t be blamed for her lack of social skills or her vacant desire to improve them.

‘I’d like to take you out into the garden soon. You could play with the others. Would you like that?’ asked Amanda.

Still there was no answer, but Amanda persevered. She spoke niceties and informed the girl of general things such as what the weather was like and what the other kids had been up to.

‘Dinner’s good today. I know because I helped make it,’ she said with a smile.

It was Ellie’s determination not to eat that led Amanda to feel defeated. As she had to take all the utensils with her, all she could do was leave the apple, which she desperately hoped the girl would eat, for what could she do if Ellie continued to reject the food? It didn’t even bear thinking about. All she could do was let the girl know she was in no way a threat, be kind and ensure her she would be back very soon, but in her mind she ran through possible tactics that might speed up the process of winning Ellie’s trust.

As Amanda gently closed and locked Ellie’s door, her bubble had been well and truly burst. She wasn’t untouchable, after all. She couldn’t even make a starving girl eat nice food! At that moment, however, she realised she had inadvertently provided herself with an opportunity to explore the door to the isolation room. She peered down the hall to make sure nobody else was coming and then, at long last, crept silently along the narrow, pitch black corridor and up the stairs until she was able to place her hands on the door. She tapped on it gently.

‘Hello? Hello… David?’ she whispered. ‘David!’ she repeated, this time a little louder.

She put her ear to the door and listened. She wasn’t to know how dark the room was inside, nor that the darkness magnified every single sound she made, serving only to frighten the young boy. If she could have seen him and the conditions he was being kept in, she would have tore the door down with her bare hands, for at the end of the isolation chamber, underneath a solitary window that angled the moonlight into the attic, young David Newsome stood hunched over – tired, hungry and terrified. Old rusty chains kept him upright, precisely as they had been fashioned to do.

‘Psssst! David!’ Amanda whispered once more.

It’s no good
. She thought.
He won’t talk until he sees me. I’ll take care of that tomorrow.

Resigned to her second crushing setback within just as many minutes, she walked away, oblivious to the boy’s helpless, lonely sobs on the other side of the door.

*
 

Amanda returned to the kitchen and quickly scraped Ellie’s untouched dinner into the bin so that Karen wouldn’t see it and latch onto her failure. She then worked hard to hide her disappointment before re-entering the dining room, where the residents were finishing off their meal. The silence, coupled with the expressions on everybody’s faces – Karen’s reddened cheeks and the sheepish uncertainty of the children – made it clear that tensions had been running high in her absence.