Don’t look at it. Don’t even think about it. If you think about all of this too much, you will go mad, and you have to keep going. You promised John you would do this, and you must.
Sitting on the middle mattress was a small thin figure, barely recognizable as Sonya, the first of the visitors. She was so nervous when she first arrived, clutching that old suitcase decorated with stickers of ponies and horses. Her face, round and soft when Marion first saw her, now had sharp edges and deep hollows like something carved from wood. She wore a ragged blue dress and an old cardigan that had once belonged to Mother. The girl’s legs were red, raw, and covered in bruises. Sonya’s eyes, still large and terrified—the one thing about her that seemed unaltered by years in the cellar—followed Marion’s slightest movement.
Beside her mattress there was a collection of toiletries: pine-scented shower gel, toothpaste, conditioning shampoo, a dried-out sponge, and a soiled towel. A blond, snub-nosed Disney Cinderella was printed on the back of a hairbrush, its bristles clogged with clumps of dry, blond hair.
“I’m here to help you. That is, if you will let me,” Marion said to Sonya, her voice unsteady. “Please don’t be scared.”
As she got closer the girl leaned away as if she thought Marion was going to hit her.
“I’m sorry,” said Marion. “I didn’t know it was like this. Honestly I didn’t.”
The girl started crying. Marion reached carefully round the back of her head to undo the gag. As she was struggling with the fastener she saw there were scaly bald patches on Sonya’s scalp. The gag was tricky to undo, but when it finally sprung lose, it was as if Marion had triggered an alarm. The girl began to scream.
“Please, you have to be quiet. If you don’t keep quiet, I can’t help you.”
“Dink dink,” said the girl, looking at the jug of orange cordial. “Pees dink.”
“Of course, of course, I’m so sorry, you must be very thirsty.” Marion had forgotten to bring any cups, so she poured the drink straight into the girl’s mouth. She began to choke and cough; a lot of the orange cordial ended up soaking into her dress.
Since the girl’s hands were chained, Marion had to hold the paste sandwich to her mouth. It was like feeding a wild creature. The sharp little teeth tore at the food so ravenously, Marion worried they might nip her fingers. As the girl ate, Marion found herself reaching out to stroke her head, and in return the girl rubbed herself against Marion’s hand as if taking comfort from this contact.
Marion imagined letting Sonya go free. The girl would be interviewed on morning TV, ruddy cheeked and healthy, her hair nicely washed, wearing a clean blouse and new jeans, like a bright young university student. Sonya would tell the story of how she had been rescued by Marion from her terrible ordeal in the cellar.
But it could never be like that, could it? said Mother. If you let her go, then things will be very bad for both of you.
When Sonya finished eating, she looked up at Marion.
“Peeeease help.”
Marion took a deep breath.
“I want to help, of course. But the situation—really, it is very complicated—you see. I have to think things over—to decide what is best—really, I don’t know—”
Marion picked up the gag and went to put it back on Sonya. As soon as the girl realized what was happening, she began shaking her head wildly and screaming as hard as she could.
“No gag no please, no gag help us. You help us, lady, please,” the girl wailed, moving around so much that Marion found it impossible to place the gag around her head.
“You have to be good now,” said Marion, trying to reason with her. “John is in hospital, see. He is very poorly. He had an operation. For a while I wasn’t sure if he would pull through. I want to help you, but you are making it very difficult for me. You don’t understand how much strain I am under.”
The screaming was tearing her nerves apart. Surely Judith or someone else would be able to hear?
“Look, if you don’t behave yourself, I won’t bring you any more food. In fact, I will never come down here ever again. No one will.” Marion surprised herself by the stern tone of her voice. The girl stopped screaming and just stared at her stupidly with those big eyes.
When finally she managed to replace the gag, Sonya seemed to lose all hope and slumped back onto her mattress, exhausted.
By the far wall Violetta, dressed in a short black dress, sat bolt upright on her mattress. Her skin was still smooth and tanned, her curls glossy. Next to her pillow was a vase of dead roses. She stayed very still, hardly moving her head while the gag was removed, but her eyes were blacker than anything Marion had ever seen before. Marion’s back ached from leaning over to feed Sonya, so she sat down on a wooden chair next to the mattress. Violetta drank and ate without crying or screaming. Only after her mouth had been wiped and Marion was fiddling with the gag did she speak. Her voice was rough from thirst, yet calm and reasonable:
“Marion, you have to do something. You must help us.”
Marion was shocked to hear her name spoken by one of them.
“The baby died, and Alla is nearly dead too. Why do you let him do this to us? Why don’t you go to the police? Did he threaten to kill you?”
“No.” Marion hesitated, remembering the look in his eyes when he had shaken her. “John would never do a thing like that.”
“Then why do you help him?”
She searched for an answer.
“He’s my brother.”
“You are a woman too. You are not evil. Don’t you see you have to help us? We will say you didn’t know anything until now. We won’t tell that you came with him to get us.”
As she turned away from Violetta’s black eyes the words of Brendan O’Brian echoed in Marion’s mind: You are evil.
“I’m sorry, but I have to put the gag back on now.”
“No, no, don’t do that!” Violetta ordered. “You cannot. You have to help us.”
“I am trying to help you.”
“Do you even know about the things he does?”
“He’s teaching you things like English and mathematics, because he wants you to have an education.”
“You really believe that? You think he is our teacher?” Violetta began to laugh. “You think that is how Alla got baby? From mathematica?”
The baby had been John’s child? That girl had been down the cellar for well over a year now, so it must be his. How could she have been so stupid not to realize? She looked over to the small blue doll tucked in one shadowy corner of the ottoman. That baby shared her blood. Her little niece or nephew had died down here.
“You are evil woman,” screeched Violetta. “You are a bitch from hell. This is your fault, you have done this to us, you are as bad as your fat fucking rapist brother.”
“Don’t call him that!”
“You know he doesn’t give shit for you. He laughs at you, his fat stupid sister. He says when you were at school, they call you manatee, big fat sea monster with titties!” She began to giggle.