I called his extension until he answered, and I told him I needed to speak with him and it needed to be now.
But then there was Helen, standing in the corridor beyond my art room, her fingers gripped so tightly before her that her knuckles were white. I hung up on Kenneth as she opened the door.
“I need to see you.”
I sighed. “Yes, I need to see you, too.”
She didn’t match my smile, not at all. Her eyes were glassy and her teeth were gritted and she looked so sad, so broken, so tiny.
“Helen, look, I’ve got so much to say…” I got to my feet and moved towards her but she shook her head.
“This isn’t… I’m not here…” she took a breath. “I need you, and it’s not for me, not right now. I just need you to help me with something, because you’re the best man I know, the best person I know, and I don’t… I don’t know what to do… I don’t know how to handle this…”
Professionalism dies hard, even with a resignation letter in your pocket, and I’d heard these kind of requests before, many times. They are never good, always a prelude to something truly horrible. You can see it in their eyes.
“What is it? What’s happened?”
“It’s Lizzie…”
“Ok. Tell me.”
“She’s, um… she needs… help…” She swatted a tear away, and I felt it in my throat. I took a step towards her but she took a step back.
“Where is Elizabeth now?”
Helen pointed behind her, struggling for breath. “She, um… she’s scared… in case you hate her, in case you’re angry.”
“Why would I be angry?”
Her eyes were so sad. “Because it was her… she told my dad… but she didn’t mean it, and she’s in trouble… she’s in so much trouble, Mark, I don’t even know what to do…”
I sighed. “Helen, I’d never be angry like that. Please tell her so.”
“I know, I did, but she just…” She sighed. “I’ll get her.”
Elizabeth was only around the corner. I saw Helen reach for her, pull her along by her elbow, and Elizabeth looked terrible. Nothing like the spirited young woman I’d seen around the school for so long.
I beckoned them in and closed the door behind them and pulled a couple of stools to the side of my desk. Elizabeth wouldn’t even look at me, she kept tight hold of Helen’s hand as she sat down, and then stared at her knees.
“What is it?” I said. “Elizabeth, you can talk here, say whatever you need to say. I won’t judge, I’m just here to help.” I hoped she’d meet my eyes but she didn’t. “I’ll do whatever I can, no matter what it is. We’ll work through it.”
She sobbed, a tiny little noise that hit me in the gut. “But… I’m so… I’m so sorry,” she cried. “You shouldn’t be nice to me, when I’ve ruined everything.”
I took a breath and shunted my chair forward, leaning down until my eyeline was level with hers. “Elizabeth, look at me, please.” Slowly her eyes met mine. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. None of that matters now. What matters is you. I just want to help. Will you let me help?”
“I’m sorry, though…” she cried. “I really am…”
“Don’t be,” I said. “There’s no need.”
Helen cleared her throat. “It’s her stepdad. He… um… he…”
She didn’t need to finish. My blood ran cold, and Elizabeth buckled, leaned into Helen and sobbed against her shoulder.
“How long has this been going on?”
Helen answered for her. “Three years… maybe four… she didn’t want it…”
I dropped to a crouch, and put my hand on Elizabeth’s arm, nothing intrusive, just so she could feel it. “It’s alright,” I said, and I meant it. “We’re going to get this all sorted out. You’ll be safe from now on, I promise.”
She nodded and her lip trembled.
I looked at Helen, then looked at the clock, knowing full well a stream of thirty kids would be descending any minute.
“Come with me,” I said.
***
Helen
Mark moved us into an empty room, and he was calm. So calm. He left us for just a minute and when he came back he had a notepad and a pen and some tissues and a jug of water and some glasses. He let Lizzie take all the time in the world.
He was brilliant. Kind, and steady, and strong, and I thought I already loved him as much as it was possible to love someone, but I was wrong. It made me love him even more.
She told him as much as she could tell him, and I filled in the blanks when she couldn’t speak.
She told him how Ray started looking at her when her mum wasn’t home. How he’d buy her cigarettes and pretend they were secret friends. How he started asking her for favours, because that’s what friends do. How he would get her drunk and tickle her, and then how he made her show herself to him, and put her hands on him, and act like it was all just silly drunk fun.
How he crept into her room at night and raped her as she cried. And then did it again, and again, and again.
How he told her her mum would never believe her, and he’d call her a slut and say it was all her fault.