The Child Bride (26 page)

‘No,’ she said quietly.

I checked on Zeena once during the night and found her asleep, then on Sunday I kept her occupied with little jobs so she didn’t have time to brood. I also wanted to keep a watch on her in case she was harbouring any thoughts of running off and returning home. Although she’d told me the previous evening she wasn’t, I appreciated the pressure she was under to conform to her family’s expectations and fulfil her marriage commitment. I knew she felt guilty for the shame she believed she’d brought on her family, and guilt is a powerful tool for enforcing obedience, especially in girls.

Adrian and Lucy went out in the afternoon and Paula suggested that she and Zeena go for a little walk. As I wanted to keep an eye on Zeena I invited myself along, and the three of us went to the local park where we sat on a bench beside the play area, watching the children on the equipment. After a while we had a go too – the girls on the seesaw and me on the swing. Zeena and Paula were laughing out loud as they went up and down, and we weren’t the only adults having fun in the children’s playground – you’re never too old to play. It was lovely to see them so carefree – especially Zeena, who was under a lot of pressure.

As far as I knew Zeena didn’t confide in Paula or Lucy that her husband had arrived in England, otherwise they would have been worried enough to tell me. Zeena didn’t mention the matter to me again that day and, other than asking her from time to time if she was OK, neither did I. I was vigilant when we left the house to go to the park and also on returning, but there was no one in the street acting suspiciously. I have to admit I was willing Sunday to pass so I could speak to Tara first thing in the morning and set in motion the help and protection Zeena needed. That evening I received another silent phone call to the landline, number withheld. I wondered if the caller was known to Zeena, but I didn’t worry her by mentioning it.

It was with some relief therefore that the following morning I fell into the weekday routine. Lucy left for work as usual five minutes late, slamming the front door behind her so the whole house shook. Adrian stayed in bed as he was on a late shift again, and Paula was hunting for her clean clothes as part of her routine for getting ready for sixth form. I find there’s something reassuring in the normality of routine when I’m dealing with an unfamiliar and worrying situation, as I was now with Zeena. Even Lucy’s door slamming and Paula’s shouts as to where a particular item of clothing was (always to be found in her wardrobe or drawers) was welcoming.

As I left the house to take Zeena to school I was watchful, and once in the car I said to her: ‘You would tell me if you saw your father, uncle or Farhad in our road, wouldn’t you? Apart from your mother and siblings, I don’t know what your family look like.’

‘Yes,’ Zeena said.

‘And if you saw them outside your school, you’d tell a member of staff?’

‘Yes,’ she said again.

‘Good girl.’ I smiled.

Once at school, I waited in the car and watched Zeena go in before I drove away. Halfway home my mobile rang from my handbag and I let it go through to voicemail. When I pulled up outside my house it was 8.50 a.m. and before I got out of the car I played the voicemail message. It was from Tara: ‘Cathy, I’m about to go into court on another case. I’ll be there all day. Something has come up. Norma and I need to see Zeena urgently today. We’ll aim to be with you at five o’clock. Please text or leave a message on my voicemail if there’s a problem, otherwise see you at five.’

Her voice was tight and solemn, and there’d been no pleasantries of ‘I hope you had a good weekend’ as she usually included, so I knew something was badly wrong. The most likely explanation seemed to be that they, too, were now aware that Zeena’s husband was in England. Although I would be seeing Tara at five o’clock I thought I should make her aware of what I knew, so still in the car I returned her call, hoping to catch her before she went into court. I was too late. Her phone was off and it went through to voicemail. ‘Tara, it’s Cathy,’ I said. ‘I’ve got your message. We’ll see you at five. I’m not sure if you know this, but Zeena’s husband is in England. Zeena’s considering going home. I’ve talked to her and taken her to school. See you later.’ I ended the call and got out of the car.

I didn’t expect to hear from Tara as she was in court all day, but I kept my mobile close to me in the house and while I was hanging out the washing in the garden; I also listened out for the landline. That morning I texted Zeena to say that Tara and Norma would be coming to see us at five, and she texted back:
OK x.
I also texted a similar message to Paula and Lucy so that they knew to expect a meeting taking place when they arrived home. I told Adrian before he left for work, although he was unlikely to be home until after the meeting had finished. I did the housework, and then began preparing some new training for the Skills to Foster course. Then Serena, the carer I was mentoring, telephoned with an update on Billy. It was all very positive and I congratulated her on doing a great job managing his needs and behaviour, and she thanked me for my help.

When I left the house that afternoon to collect Zeena from school I was again very vigilant. I managed to park close to the main entrance where Zeena could see me when she came out, and as I sat there I kept a lookout. Had I not been fostering for many years I could have been very unsettled by thought that I might be being watched, or that I was having to be super-alert to protect the child I was looking after, but like many foster carers I’d become used to this, for it certainly wasn’t the first time I’d had to be on the lookout for danger.

Zeena came out of school with a friend, and they said goodbye at the school gates. As soon as Zeena got into the car she asked me anxiously, ‘What did Tara say?’

‘I haven’t actually spoken to her,’ I said. I then explained about her voicemail message and mine, leaving out my thoughts that something must be wrong.

Zeena looked at me even more anxiously. ‘Didn’t Tara say what she and Norma wanted?’

‘No. Only that something had come up. Don’t worry. We’ll soon find out. I expect they’ve found out Farhad is here.’

‘I doubt it,’ Zeena said.

Paula was just letting herself in the front door as we drew up. She waited for us and we all went inside together. Paula tried to engage Zeena in conversation but Zeena said she was sorry and needed to be alone. She went to her bedroom. I explained to Paula that Zeena was worried about Norma and Tara’s visit and all that was going on, and Paula understood. I also thought that Zeena might be going to her room to use the phone, for I wasn’t convinced that even now she was following Norma’s advice and ignoring Farhad’s calls.

I checked on Zeena at half past four and she said she was all right. Then at five o’clock she joined me in the living room to await the arrival of Norma and Tara. Paula had gone to her room. The patio doors were open and Zeena and I sat quietly gazing out onto the garden and the beautiful summer’s afternoon. A blackbird sang from the garden fence and smaller birds made repeated trips to the birdfeeder. The air was heavy with the scent of summer, and I think we’d both rather have been in the garden than waiting for this meeting.

At 5.10 the front doorbell rang and Zeena visibly jumped. ‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ I said. ‘They’re here to help you.’ She didn’t look convinced.

Zeena stayed in the living room while I answered the front door. ‘Hello, come in.’ I smiled at Norma and Tara.

They both said hello. Tara was looking especially smart in the suit she’d worn for court.

‘Are we in the living room?’ Norma asked as I closed the front door.

‘Yes. Zeena is already there.’

I followed them down the hall and into the living room. They both said hello to Zeena, who gave a weak smile.

‘Do you want me to stay?’ I asked.

‘It’s not necessary, as Tara is here,’ Norma said.

‘I want Cathy to stay,’ Zeena said.

‘That’s fine then,’ Tara said, and Norma nodded.

I closed the patio door to avoid any distraction from outside and joined Zeena on the sofa. Tara and Norma took the easychairs. I sensed a formality in the air that hadn’t been present on their previous visits. Zeena had become agitated and was now fidgeting with her hands in her lap. Her face was tense. Tara looked at Norma as she prepared to speak to Zeena. And I knew even before Norma said a word that she was here on police business, and that it was very serious indeed.

‘Is there anything you want to tell us?’ Norma asked Zeena.

Zeena looked at me anxiously, beseeching me for help.

‘Like what?’ I asked Norma, confused.

Tara and Norma both continued to look at Zeena. ‘I think Zeena knows,’ Norma said.

But Zeena remained silent, staring down at her hands in her lap.

‘They can’t help you if you don’t tell them,’ I said gently to Zeena, with no idea what she should be telling them.

She shook her head helplessly and leaned forward slightly, but still didn’t say anything.

‘Zeena,’ Norma said. ‘Your father and uncle have been arrested for pimping. Do you know what that means?’

Without looking up, Zeena gave a small nod.

‘They were caught prostituting a girl of a similar age to you,’ Norma continued seriously. ‘You may know her. Her name is Tracy-Ann. She goes to your school.’

Zeena didn’t look up or speak, and I felt a cold chill run down my spine.

‘I understand why you couldn’t tell us,’ Norma said to Zeena. ‘But now we know I want you to be honest with me, for your own sake and Tracy-Ann’s. Tracy-Ann is willing to give evidence. I trust you will be too. I know you’re scared; I’ll put you in a safe house until the trial. Tracy-Ann has gone to stay with an aunt out of the area. I will arrange protection for you.’

I was concentrating on Norma as she spoke, trying to understand what was going on. Tracy-Ann, aged fourteen, had been used as a prostitute by Zeena’s father and uncle, which was shocking, but why did Zeena have to give evidence? Her hands trembled in her lap and I placed my hand on hers.

‘Zeena, love,’ I said, ‘you must help Norma and tell her what she needs to know.’

She began to cry and I slipped my arm around her waist. Tara passed her the box of tissues I kept on the coffee table. We waited for a few moments until she’d composed herself enough to continue.

‘I’ll help you,’ she said at last, wiping her eyes.

‘Good girl,’ Norma said. ‘I’ll need to take a statement from you at some point, but for now I just want you to tell me all you know.’

‘I’ll make a few notes,’ Tara said, taking a notepad and pen from her briefcase, and Norma nodded.

Zeena wiped her eyes and straightened slightly, but couldn’t look at us. ‘It wasn’t just Tracy-Ann my father and uncle used as a prostitute,’ Zeena began very quietly. ‘It was me as well.’ I involuntarily gasped. ‘I’m sorry, Cathy,’ Zeena said, turning a little towards me. ‘I hated lying to you. You’ve been so kind to me. I wanted to tell you many times, but I just couldn’t.’

‘It’s all right,’ I said, reeling from the shock.

‘I was worried what you’d think of me,’ Zeena continued, pressing the tissue to her face. ‘And I knew you’d have to tell Tara and Norma. I was frightened what my father and uncle would do to me. I also knew that if I told you I’d have to move to a safe house, but I liked being here. I wanted to stay. You’re a family to me and I love you and Lucy, Adrian and Paula.’

Zeena wiped her eyes again and I swallowed hard. I could feel my heart racing and my mouth had gone dry.

‘I understand why you couldn’t tell me,’ I said. ‘You poor child. Whatever have you been through.’

Norma gave Zeena a moment to compose herself again and then asked, ‘Was it just the two of you or were there others involved?’

‘It was just us, I think,’ Zeena said. ‘Tracy-Ann is the only one I ever met.’

Norma nodded. ‘We found some photographs of you and Tracy-Ann when we searched your parents’ house. In the photographs you were both dressed ready to entertain your father’s clients. When I asked your mother where those clothes were she said they were here.’

‘They are,’ Zeena said.

‘Where?’ I asked horrified.

‘In the suitcase under my bed. You remember I had the case with me when I first arrived?’

‘I remember,’ Tara said. ‘We stopped off at your house and your mother gave you the case.’

‘I told you the clothes weren’t mine,’ Zeena to me. ‘But they were.’ Then to Norma and Tara she said, ‘My father told my mother to pack them. He expected me to carry on working when I came into care.’

I stared at Zeena, horrified.

‘It won’t be the first time that’s happened,’ Tara said grimly. ‘A girl prostituted after coming into care.’

I remembered the suitcase of see-through belly tops and skirts, glittering with sequins and beads. They’d reminded me of the costume a Turkish belly-dancer might wear. I cringed at the thought of their true use.

‘I’ll need to take the case containing the clothes with me as evidence,’ Norma said.

Zeena nodded.

‘When did your father and uncle start prostituting you?’ Norma now asked Zeena as I held her hand.

‘Last year,’ she said. ‘When I returned from Bangladesh after my wedding. Although my father started abusing me before then.’

‘How did he abuse you?’ Norma asked.

There was a pause before Zeena said, ‘Sexually. He raped me when I was twelve, but before then he was always touching me. It started when I was nine, after I’d been raped by my cousin. Because he and my mother blamed me for what Hasan had done, my father said I was a prostitute and he could treat me as one. He let my uncle do it too.’

I continued to hold her hand. It was the only comfort I could offer her.

‘Did your mother know?’ Norma asked as Tara wrote.

‘I don’t think so,’ Zeena said. ‘She wouldn’t have asked my father questions. She did as she was told.’

‘So you were twelve when your father first raped you, and nine when he first began touching you sexually,’ Norma clarified.

‘Yes,’ Zeena said.