Authors: Joy Hindle
Oliver knew now that he had to add weight to the empty phrases he had recanted down the phone to his mum the night of his departure home. He had to be her strength, not just emotionally but he had to take on where Bri had left off. However faint the glimmer of hope, however insignificant the difference might be to Sadie’s sentence they had to at least try. That was what family did. They needed to support Sadie at all costs.
Oliver shivered as he faced the hours of emotional commitment that faced him. He knew immediately the drain it would be on his life back in Australia. How could he put their relationship on hold but equally, how could he maintain all they had reached when his all was so desperately required here? His pale, drawn features already concerned his mother.
Steve was keen to help. His logical mind had been the reason they had managed to save Caroline from a freezing grave. Like Bri, he was a fighter and he rose to a challenge. Besides, Bri had laid the foundations for them.
They chose to work together on this huge puzzle at Bri’s bedside. Somehow it felt like he was helping them. They hoped his desire to help Sadie would work the miracle they needed. Surely his comatose body could hear their plottings.
They managed to persuade the medical staff that this was the thing most likely to wake Bri so they got special permission to use their technology in intensive care despite the usual insistence that such appliances be turned off.
“‘Refer to Jodi Arias 2008’: what you think this means?” Oliver asked Caroline as they trawled through Bri’s iPad notes.
“Not a clue, honey,” Caroline replied. Oliver had read the eye signals between her and Steve, realising that, at last, Caroline was emotionally letting go of her marriage. Just more emotional package for him but he couldn’t deny her a glint of happiness in her torturous existence could he? He had found the love of his life and all he wanted was for others to taste such happiness for themselves.
“Soon sort that out,” Steve squeezed Caroline’s hands. “Just let me google Jodi Arias!”
Guilty again! There had been no sperm bank. There had been no sperm donor.
She hadn’t felt attractive any more, all that baby-making talk. Their sex life had become unbearable, mechanical.
Dan had whistled at her. A full-blown wolf whistle. Her ego had needed it. His smooth talk was so flattering. She had forgotten what it was like to have that jelly-like feeling in your stomach.
All the research she had put in to ensuring they got the DNA from an okay guy, and she ended up being impregnated by the bloke she had bumped into in the aisle of her local supermarket. She had literally bumped into him and as she bent to retrieve her cans, he had whistled at her black, lace knickers.
The perfect gentleman; he had helped her up, his hand already lingering a second too long on hers. A voice so full of concern as he asked if she was okay, Sincerity, manners, patience, all the virtues she held in such high regard in a man.
As she was loading the car she caught his gaze again. Fate had dealt her card; Caroline’s tyre was flat. It just seemed so natural that he should offer to change it for her. She was indebted. She fussed about wasting his time but he claimed he always had all the time in the world if it meant helping a lady. Could he buy her a coffee, after he had sorted the tyre, in the supermarket café to warm her up? So caring; all the qualities she felt Simon had lost recently!
He treated her to a dark chocolate sundae and a dark coffee. How could coffee and cake in the supermarket taste so sensual? She had been aroused. His chair was pulled in close to the table and his knees brushed against hers. Their eyes locked. He didn’t need to ask. Words weren’t needed. Without a second thought she popped into his passenger seat as he drove, one hand on her knee. It didn’t feel seedy or cheap, it didn’t seem inappropriate.
He drove to the four star. Caroline and Simon had once dined there to celebrate their fifth anniversary. Dining wasn’t on the agenda as they ripped at each other’s clothes.
Lying there afterwards she had no regrets. It had been an earth-moving experience. She was satisfied to leave it there, to return to normality with Simon. She hadn’t been surprised that Dan too had been happy to leave it as a one-night stand. It suited them both, no questions asked, their animal-like behaviour could be dismissed into the night, forgotten.
He had maintained his chivalry and driven her back to her car, waited until she had set off. The disgust of what she had done refused to weigh on her mind for several years.
It was a “one off”, her conscience explained but the experience would dance around in her heart and refresh her joie de vivre as she recalled the pure passion that night when she had felt herself to be the most attractive woman in the world, reflected in those sapphire eyes. She hadn’t lived in hope of ever seeing him again. She had other things to concentrate on.
*
Simon was busy googling Houses For Sale in Devon. He had to bolt from this hellhole. Finally they had been given a name for Sadie’s personality disorder as the coroner at the inquest had worked with the CID.
All the childhood behaviour had pointed to it.
“Ultimately the psychopath emotionally destroys those who are close to him or her.”
What truer words were ever spoken? Were they all mad to continue to try and help this soul predestined to evil?
She’d destroyed them all – their marriage, Caroline the boozer, Bri at death’s door, Oliver the mother’s boy, him the gibbering wreck.
There had been plenty of evidence from the past, staring at them as they scrawled through old news articles when first presented with this summary of their daughter by the judge.
“Sadie, a psychopath.”
Simon had read about Anthony Tyrone Terrell who had gunned down his own mother. The words used to describe this evil monster might as well have been penned for Sadie.
“A bad seed born with no conscience or empathy for others.”
He had discovered that experts claim that even in a loving home environment psychopaths can grow up to kill the entire family, then grab a basketball and go shoot hoops with friends as if nothing had happened.
Sadie had cold-bloodedly killed her birth dad and then gone on a shopping spree with his credit cards. She hadn’t even bothered to think of an explanation for her acquisition of a Michael Kors bag, several pair of designer shoes and countless outfits.
All his research on psychopaths had revealed the same warning, even on the Christian websites – keep as far away from these evil people as possible and that is exactly what Simon was determined to do.
The estate agent had recommended a low price for a quick sale. Simon had priced his semi a couple of grand lower than the suggested price as he was determined now to escape from this well of unhappiness for ever. He’d divorced Caroline so he had no duty there. What good was he to Bri now? None whatsoever. Steve seemed to be happy to fill his shoes, so why not let him? Oliver only had eyes for Caroline. How much more could a man take?
With the quick sale he could afford a modest apartment – that is all he wanted. He was too worn out to want the demands of a garden.
A garden – he used to love playing with little Sadie in the garden. She was football mad – he’d been so proud, taking her to all the matches to watch York City. The two of them would try to re-enact the goals the following day in their homemade soccer pitch. She’d seemed so keen that he’d made enquiries about girl’s football teams and he’d got her signed up. Never before had an eight-year-old girl told the referee to “fuck off”, her blazing blue eyes indignant at the accusation that she should have said such a thing!
“Daddy, I said ‘Look out,’ cos the ball was going straight at his head.”
The innocent face, eyes staring confidently into his own, convinced him of the referee’s mistake, so he had complained to the league that the referee was picking on her because she was such a good player and he was a parent of the opposing team.
The team had been told very clearly that they must not drop litter but when rewarded with match-day treats she had a total disregard for the rules; the wrappers would be dropped directly at her feet! Embarrassed, Simon would scoop them up and pop them in the bin, hoping nobody had noticed. Even then he was only too aware that if he had challenged her she would blatantly lie and blame the team-mate nearest to her.
She was able to use her charm to manipulate the manager into playing her even when she had been caught out truanting from training. She’d flatter him, saying how she’d overheard some of the girls from the older team complaining that their manager was harsh and boring but how he made training fun, she loved going but she’s had to miss due to excessive homework. She was a great little player when “in the mood” She would tackle, get the ball, score goals like there was no tomorrow. However when she did take somebody down in a tackle she showed no remorse, a total lack of empathy. She would be hostile to the girls who hovered around their fallen team-mate, openly aggressive, threatening violence if they blamed her.
The boys hadn’t really been into football so it had been his and her thing. He could still remember the swell of pride when she won most improved player. She would never have won the award for which the whole team had to vote – player’s player of the season. He had always appreciated that she didn’t have the slightest chance of that because basically nobody liked Sadie. They liked her football skills, the fact she could keep them at the top of the league with all her goals. She excelled at penalties. She relished whamming the ball straight to the goalie’s head! She had the knack of not making it quite obvious but Simon had always secretly known she got some sort of buzz from seeing the sheer fear on the poor girls’ faces as they tried to save the ball and shield their heads! She would violate the rights of others by insisting she took all the corners.
Maybe he should throw the carpets and curtains in with the sale, even the furniture. Simon was a desperate man now as his paranoid mind, a result of his anxieties, slotted together all the pieces of the puzzle as he reminisced over her childhood. They’d all been doomed from day one by the ticking timebomb of a girl. How much further could she destroy them? He could not think rational thoughts in his traumatised mind. Even though she was now behind bars, apparently for life, she haunted him. He couldn’t believe her tentacles couldn’t continue to grasp out for him and suck him further into a whirlpool of destruction. He had little left to be destroyed, his sanity was practically gone.
Sadie had always cherished violence. Every conversation, if at all possible, had to be brought around to horror. The only subject she had excelled at during her high school years had been history because she relished the gruesome details!
School, football club, whoever rang to complain, Sadie would always assure Simon and Caroline that the root cause of her actions were somebody else’s problem, not hers. They always seemed to fall hook, line and sinker for her excuses because they were so plausible, so ingenious really. She played the role of witness, lawyer, jury, judge and executioner so perfectly, but she never played the accused! It just wasn’t her role!
Although by all accounts she had treated Pippa well, she hadn’t been a good pet owner when younger. Pippa had been her food ticket so now in his condemning mind-set he persuaded himself that that was the only reason she had cared for the animal.
Twitchy Nose the rabbit had suffered a broken back when Sadie had “accidently” dropped her on the patio. Oliver and Bri had been inconsolable but Sadie had just wanted to know, did that mean she could now have a cat instead? Simon had previously told her that they couldn’t cope with more than one pet. When Twitchy eventually went to the big hutch in the sky he would reconsider the cat situation. Sadie seemed to lack guilt.
Simon had tried hard over the years to win and maintain the affection of his precious daughter. He’d spoilt her with so many precious gifts he couldn’t quite afford over the years but he didn’t seem able to hold onto her affections. In his cynicism he now felt confident to surmise, “Psychopaths don’t miss you, only what you have to offer them.”
“I have nothing left to offer you, Sadie,” he whispered as he pressed Send to confirm his offer on the Devon property.
Sadie, traumatised, hadn’t eaten; she did nothing but toss and turn on the narrow bunk. She was desperate for Josh to resurrect in her mind again. She called out to him, “Josh, Josh, please carry on.” She saw his troubled countenance as he resumed his tale.
*
“I needed order to my chaos, a return to school seemed the obvious solution to my parents. The trauma of returning seemed insurmountable to me. I had to develop my coping mechanisms more. I started leaving the building by the same route I had used to enter it. When I was too idle to do this I would become sick in the pit of my stomach. The hand-washing got worse; the soap needed to be antibacterial and I needed fresh towels, an impossibility in school.
The two ds began to control my thoughts; disease or disaster. I doubted everything I did, seeing danger in everything. I wouldn’t participate in rounders in case I hurt somebody accidently by throwing the ball. I lived in terror. Some of my most disturbing obsessions included violent thoughts and images. I lived in dread that I would act out these abhorrent fears. I became stuck in a cycle of checking that I had my homework. I could see fellow students sniggering as I looked in my rucksack again and again and again!
The rituals I developed helped to neutralise my obsessions and I began to avoid the things which ignited my anxieties. I was petrified that people might think I was cheating if I just glanced at another student’s work, so I started praying, the prayers took over and I couldn’t complete the tests. It then progressed to fear that I could be cheating so I would skive off on exam days.
My whole existence at school was a huge blur of inward-looking anxieties. At lunchtimes I would choose the food which had the hottest plate so that I might have some chance of avoiding the germs of the previous user.
Meanwhile at home, instead of concentrating on me and my problems, the conversations always seemed to centre round the phone calls they had had with Auntie Caroline regarding Sadie and her latest issues! They discussed all sorts of theories as to why she was bonkers. They seemed so lost and caught up in trying to advise Aunt Caroline as Uncle Simon was appearing to opt out. I felt like screaming, ‘What about little me over here?’
I think they thought just because I had gone back to school I had gone back to normality. I was out of the house long enough for them to delude themselves that I was ‘cured’. Were they purposefully being blind to my issues? Did they not know stressful life issues worsened my intrusive thoughts and compulsive rituals? How stressful was it to hear how much that girl was destroying our extended family?
I was lost; everything was black. As I called out to the world for help, nobody came. They had all gone running to help the Sadie sideshow keep on the road. Looking back, maybe it was a blessing. It was sink or swim for me. I had done the sinking and boy it was dreadful, so I had to find a way out but I was not capable of logical reason. I like to think it was fate or maybe a guardian angel; does anybody believe in those things?
On one of my worse days I was walking home from school. The illness was chipping away at my existence. I had lost the ability to achieve anything constructive. Thoughts of suicide were never far away. My medication and counselling seemed to be failing. I couldn’t think straight.
I was on automatic pilot, not really knowing that my feet were taking me home. I kicked something soft on the floor and then I heard a high-pitched squeal. Glancing down I saw a little black ball of fluff stirring. On closer inspection I saw it was a tiny pup.
‘Germs, fleas,’ my tormented mind whispered to me. Its tiny face looked up and its eyes locked with mine. Something stirred in my heart, a major turning point because for months I had felt no emotion. It was placed gently in my rucksack by this alter ego of mine. Momentarily I was set free from all the haunting thoughts such an action would usually be accompanied by. Somehow the pup and I arrived home.
Mum was on the phone consoling Caroline yet again and Dad was whispering advice in the background. Neither acknowledged my entrance and so Billy and I mounted the stairs and he lay curled on my bed. How could such an innocent creature kill me with his germs? My first rational thoughts in months. I searched for my hand wash in case any of his poo should have been lingering on his body as I lifted him. He didn’t like me leaving him to wash my hands three more times and he began to whimper.
Food, perhaps he needed food. I had not considered my own eating habits for so long, that I was surprised I should even acknowledge he might have this need.
I scooped him up and placed him in my sock drawer, leaving it open for air. He snuggled down, he clearly had little energy and I ran down the stairs. That made them pay attention, me running with a sense of purpose. They sort of just stared in amazement and Mum rubbed her eyes as if she was dreaming. Dad broke the shocked silence.
‘What’s up, Josh?’
‘I need some food.’
‘Food?’ as if they were speaking to aliens. Mum’s face was covered with a huge smile. A dream come true, me acting like a normal teenage guy, ravenous?
I don’t know why I didn’t tell them but then we didn’t really communicate about anything so it was hardly surprising. I hadn’t a clue what puppies ate. Sausage sprang to mind!
‘I’d like bangers and mash,’ I announced. I might as well have given Mum a million pounds!
‘Bangers and mash coming up!’ I swear she skipped across the kitchen to the fridge. After inspecting its contents she announced to Dad she was just popping to the shop for some sausages. This was my chance to get proper dog food so two miracles in one day for Mum when I offered to go.
We were all quite perplexed really. I couldn’t believe how normal and rational this little ball of fluff had made me. I had managed to perform more tasks in half an hour than I had achieved in months without any rituals. The sense of relief was overwhelming. I was a bit worried how Mum would react when on my return my interest in the sausages would have waned. Even with Billy’s magic I knew I would gag if I tried to eat them.
Billy was so lacking in energy that he hadn’t budged when I returned. Hiding Billy while he was so weak was going to be no problem because my bedroom was so cluttered anyway. Part of my OCD meant that I was a hoarder. I couldn’t throw anything away; it would be like throwing part of myself away. A hoarder but an ordered hoarder, a tidy but cluttered room. Billy tried to give a tiny yelp but my iPod drowned that out. It was such a pathetic weak sound.’”
*
A sharp clatter of the flap and Josh faded away as the prison guards checked on her. She knew that he would not come to her in such vividness again. His job was complete; he had reinforced to her how others had managed to cope with their thorn in the flesh. She had been given so much more support than he had been given by Della. Suddenly it appeared so very clear to her. Josh had managed to find his own answer. Yes, he’d been given guidance, medication, counselling, just as she had, but he had taken the decision to step out of his problems, determined to escape his birth right. He had shown nature couldn’t control him.
Only now when there was nothing left to do but contemplate on her life, a thing she had never ever done before, it suddenly came to her just how similar their struggles had been. Both had faced rejection by friends, both had been judged by society, both couldn’t know for sure why they had their afflictions, where they had come from, what had caused them. Both had experienced angels in the guise of their beloved dogs, Pippa and Billy.
Sadie hung her head in shame. They had labelled her “Psychopath”. None of the judgmental public would believe she was capable of shame. She knew she was to blame for Pippa’s demise. Josh on the other hand had ensured that Billy went from strength to strength. In doing so, his OCD had eventually taken a few steps back. His focus had miraculously changed with his new mind-set. It hadn’t happened overnight, but over several years he had escaped from the torment, well, he had learnt to manage it.
One can never escape from OCD but he and Billy had learnt to control it rather than it control them. Not just controlling it. Out of his problems, help for others had blossomed. Josh had turned his hindrances around to benefit others. It could be said with one hundred per cent certainty that when the time actually came, Josh would be leaving the world a better place than he found it, but what could be said about her? She shuddered, the devil incarnate was a label that came to mind, a label she had been given countless times in the press.
Dear little Billy had proved to be the most loyal, obedient dog ever. It hadn’t taken long for Della to discover the little chap, but the family had welcomed him and the changes he wrought with open arms.
Through the introduction of a friend of a friend of Della’s, Billy had been recommended for training to become a hearing dog for the deaf. Josh had thrown himself into supporting this, even though it meant he would lose Billy to a new home. He redirected his energies, his compulsions into Hearing Dogs. He was now totally involved in the training and often had dogs in his home as part of their training before they went to their new homes.
Of course he still had OCD tendencies, but he had, over the years, successfully learnt to cope and Billy had been the spark. Sadie tore at her hair again, if only she could self-harm for release. Josh’s success highlighted her own destruction and made the pain even more intolerable.