Mummy’s Little Girl: A heart-rending story of abuse, innocence and the desperate race to save a lost child. Jane Elliott
and then leave in twos or threes, talking noisily. Before long, Dani was the only person left at her table.
A couple of the grown-ups had left, too; there were three remaining now, and once Dani had pushed her plate away, Christian came up to her and suggested she come and sit at their table. Dani did as she was told, aware of the intrigued looks from the few children who remained in the dining room, and Christian introduced the other grown-ups.
They were both women, both of them about the same age as her mum, and they smiled at Dani with the same look of sympathy that the lady who had served her dinner had given her. One of them had blonde hair in a short bob, with brown eyes. She wore a blue V-neck sweater, and was introduced as Rachel. The other woman, Tanya, reminded Dani a bit of Miss Sawyer at school, with her curly brown hair and chunky beige cardigan. They both shook Dani’s hand, and assured her in words that the little girl forgot as soon as she heard them that if she needed anything, she could always come to them, day or night.
‘That’s what we’re here for,’ Christian concluded. ‘I know everything feels very strange at the moment, Dani, and I know you’ve been through a lot. But we really do want you to think of this place as your home, so if you have any problems – anything at all – you must come to us.’
The two women nodded their agreement. ‘It’s what we’re here for,’ Tanya said, echoing Christian.
Dani’s key worker looked at his watch. ‘It’s nearly seven,’ he said. ‘We like you to be in bed by eight-thirty. Does that sound OK, Dani?’
Dani nodded.
‘Good. So you’ve got an hour and a half. Did Vicki and Kaz show you where the day room is?’
‘No,’ Dani answered.
‘Ah, well, it’s where most of the others will be. Shall I take you there?’
Dani blinked. The idea of having to be with everyone else – with Kaz and Vicki and all the other children who had either ignored her or stared at her as if she was some sort of unwelcome curiosity – made her hands shake. She clenched her fingers to hide the tremor from the grown-ups before answering. ‘I want to go to my bedroom,’ she said.
Christian cast a worried look at the two women before allowing his face to break into another smile. ‘It’s been a long day, hasn’t it, my love?’ he sympathised. ‘Go on, then. We’ll introduce you to some more of the children tomorrow.’ He looked over to where Dani had been eating. ‘Scrape your plate before you go, there’s a good girl.’
Dani got down from the table, took her plate to the serving hatch and left the room.
To her relief, the hallway was empty again, and she hurried up the stairs before anyone could see her. She just wanted to be by herself, under the bedclothes. Once she was covered, in the dark, she could pretend she was anywhere. She could pretend she was back at home. This place, Linden Lodge, seemed so strange and huge and unfriendly. She knew from experience that those girls were the type who would carry on being mean to her, no matter what she did to try to make friends with them. All she wanted – and she wanted it with every ounce of her being – was to go home. It didn’t matter to her that Mum had hit her. It wouldn’t happen again. Mum would be sorry, wouldn’t she?
With these thoughts going round in her head, she approached the door of her bedroom and opened it. It took a while to take in the sight that met her.
Dani’s duvet was no longer on the bed. She looked around the room to try to find it, but it was nowhere to be seen. Her few clothes – the ones that Kate had helped her unpack into the drawers – had been removed and were slung all over the floor.
She found herself breathing heavily, panicking at the sight. Everything she owned was on the floor, strewn carelessly, spitefully, all over the place. She took a step into the room and started to gather everything in her arms in a bundle.
Then she stopped.
Not quite everything had been accounted for in her brief scan of the room. One thing was missing: the one thing she cared about more than any of the others. She stood in the centre of the room, dropped the clothes from her arms and spun around, desperately trying to find it.
It didn’t take long to locate her teddy bear. The first she saw of it was its foot, peeping out from under her pillow. She tripped slightly over her clothes as she stumbled towards the bed and lifted the pillow up. Then she stopped, completely still, as though she had been turned to stone.
The bear’s belly had been slit open, and most of the stuffing – a yellow, spongy substance – had been pulled out and was now by its side. The bear’s head had been removed, and for a moment Dani couldn’t see it, until finally she realised it had been partially stuffed down the side of the bed.
She dropped the pillow on the floor and sat next to the teddy bear.
It was only a toy, she knew. She knew she was too old for it really. But that didn’t make her feel any better.
Her hands were trembling even more now as she delicately picked up some of the stuffing and tried to push it back into the bear’s carcass. But it was too spongy and kept springing out again, so in the end she had to give up. She gathered all the bits together, neatly placed them on the bed and then went around the room picking up the rest of her clothes.
Once they were all put away again, she climbed on to her bed. No doubt they would let her know where the duvet was sooner or later, but until then she could think of nothing to do but lie on the bed, foetus-like, with the remains of her teddy’s body close to her skin. She put her thumb in her mouth, closed her eyes and wished – harder than she had ever wished anything before – that she could be anywhere but here.
Morning came all too quickly.
When Kaz and Vicki had returned to the room the previous night, Dani had pretended to be asleep. From the nasty comments they made, it was clear they didn’t believe her, but it was easier to lie there with her eyes shut than to have to face them, to talk to them. A few minutes later, one of them had fetched the duvet and slung it on top of Dani; and soon the lights were turned out.
‘We know you’re awake,’ Kaz said after a couple of minutes.
Dani said nothing.
‘We’re not idiots,’ Vicki added.
Still nothing. Dani lay there, unnaturally still, her muscles tense, praying for them to fall asleep.
In the darkness it was impossible for her to tell how long it was until she was sure, from the sound of their heavy, regular breathing, that the two girls were truly asleep. An hour, maybe. It was only when she was sure that she silently moved her duvet from where it had been slung over her and sat up. She quietly took off her shoes, and then the rest of her clothes, folding them neatly and putting them in her drawer before removing a pair of pyjamas, making her bed and then climbing back into it. She pulled the duvet over her head and took refuge in her little cocoon of darkness.
More than anything, Dani wanted to stay awake. Nighttime, she knew, passed slowly. She liked that. It put off the coming of the dawn. Darkness was like a refuge, protecting her from having to face a new day. But she was tired, and it wasn’t long before she felt her eyelids become heavy. She did her best to keep them open, but the events of the day were catching up with her and she soon fell into a deep, troubled sleep.
Dani was woken the following morning by the sound of voices. As she tried to shake off the blanket of sleep, she felt momentarily confused. Where was she? What was this strange room, this strange place? Then it all came flooding back, and she felt as though she had received the terrible blow all over again.
By the time she had sat up, her room-mates were already dressed. Kaz was standing in front of the mirror, brushing her hair, while Vicki applied some lipstick. Dani had never used make-up; she tried not to stare as Vicki did it with such ease, but she couldn’t