Broken Silence (Silence, #2)(54)

Cole and Jasper hadn’t said much about watching my father give evidence, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Whatever it was I didn’t want to know. I had enough stress at the minute, and I didn’t know how much more I could take.

John stepped in front of me. He wasn’t even that close, but it felt as if he was just an inch from my face. I looked at him straight on, determined not to show how scared I was.

“You claim that your father first took you to meet Mr Glosser alone when you were five years old, is that correct?”

“Yes,” I replied.

Without blinking, he fired off the next question. “And how soon after that did you stop talking?”

“I can’t remember exactly. About a month, I suppose.”

He started walking back away from the jury. “So there was a gap between the start of the alleged abuse and you stopping talking?”

“Yes.”

“I see.” He clicked his tongue, turned to the jury and held his hand up, extending his index finger. “And you claim that you were forced to remain silent forever because your father did not want anyone to find out.”

“I never said forever. He never said forever, but yes.” He never mentioned a time limit, and I never really thought about it. I was too afraid to talk again, so I tried living a new kind of life.

“So between the start of the alleged abuse and when you stopped talking there was nothing in your way of speaking out. Is that correct?”

I shook my head. “No. That’s not true.”

“You claim your father threatened you. Is this correct?”

“Yes.”

“And what did he say?”

“That he would kill my mother. I was terrified that it was true.”

“You believed words could kill her?” He cocked his head to the side. Patronising, word-twisting bastard. When I was five, I believed my dad – every word. I had no idea what could or couldn’t kill a person then. I didn’t understand any of it, all I knew was that I loved my mum and didn’t want her to die.

I said nothing.

“Miss Farrell, did you like playing games as a child.”

What kind of question was that? “Yes, of course,” I replied. What child didn’t play?

He nodded and swiftly moved to his next question. “Did you play make-believe games?”

“Yes,” I replied cautiously, knowing this couldn’t be leading anywhere good. Me, Jasper, Cole, and Mia used to play all sorts of games, pretending we were our favourite TV show characters, from Power Rangers, and programmes like that. Every child did.

“Mmm. And when you stopped talking, you liked the attention you got, didn’t you?”

My face fell. That was where he was going. “No, that’s not how it was.”

“You said you liked to play make-believe games.”

Keeping calm was almost impossible. What kind of a person would make up something so evil? I hated that anyone could even suggest I was lying about it. All I ever wanted was a happy, normal family. I never wanted any of this.

“I did not make that up.”

John turned on his heel and took a few steps towards the jury. He had been walking around the whole time. He seemed so at ease here, as if this was his house and we were guests.

“Miss Farrell, you state that after the first time Mr Glosser accompanied you and your father he was there every occasion after that, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Did he meet you at your house?”

“No. My family were never aware he was with us.”

“He was waiting for you?”

“No, he always came after we’d set up and been to the local shop.”

Being on the stand meant that I was slightly higher than him, so I used that to my advantage and straightened my back, forcing him to look up to me. “You said your father took payment from Mr Glosser?”

“That’s correct.”

“Could that not have merely been Mr Glosser paying for his half of the food bill? You said he showed after you’d shopped.”

“No,” I growled through my teeth. Linda looked up and widened her eyes, warning me to remain calm. I needed to, but I couldn’t help it. He was twisting everything I had said to make it look like I was lying.

“How did you know what the exchange of money was for? Were you told?”

“No, but—”

“So it could have been his share of dinner. Miss Farrell, you’ve also alleged your father took photographs during the abuse, even though no pictures of you have been found.”

I narrowed my eyes. “They should look harder.” I didn’t even bother looking at Linda’s face. No doubt she would be wincing at my knee-jerk response, which was exactly what the defence wanted. The photos existed, I knew they did.

“Every phone, tablet, PC, and laptop in your father’s position has been searched, Miss Farrell. I can assure you there aren’t any pictures to back up your claim.”

I didn’t know if I should be pleased they were gone and no one would ever see them or frightened that them being gone backed up Dad’s story.

“It happened,” I whispered, and looked to the jury. Please believe me.

“Miss Farrell, could you at least tell me what camera was allegedly used?”