Free Deliver Me From Evil by Alloma Gilbert Page B

and, to be honest, I probably said nothing about it as I knew there would be no sympathy and certainly no visit to a doctor or hospital.
    A toe beating could be prompted by something trivial like lying or something more serious, like stealing. Or it could be something imagined – something Eunice was convinced I’d done, whether or not I had. Oddly, in the early days at school I did go through a phase of hoarding all the school scissors, board rubbers and other things that I could find and putting them in my school bag. I’ve got no idea why I did it, but the teacher found out, and I was told off. I got a thorough beating across the toes for it when I got home. Another punishable offence was when I actually forged Eunice’s signature in my little blue school text book. I had to do spelling and tables tests at school and I was scared I wouldn’t be able to do it. Eunice had to sign my homework book to prove I’d been practising and I was too scared to ask her for it, because she’d test me and I was terrified of her. I had to read out the answers while I wrote them down in front of her and I didn’t want to experience the consequences if I got anything wrong. So I forged her signature and she found out because the teacher could tell it was an obvious forgery. I got a nasty toe beating for that.
    After these beatings my toes would be black and blue all over. I remember once at the swimming baths – before Eunice had put an end to those outings – one of the dads noticed my bruised toes and asked, ‘How did you do that, then?’ I just said, ‘Something fell on my feet,’ of course. Even in those early days I knew somehow that I was not supposed to tell the truth about Eunice’s behaviour. Yet, that was so ironic given that the beatings were so often because I was accused of not having told her the truth. This meant that I had to double-think everything all of the time, presenting one story to Eunice for her satisfaction and another to the ‘world’ in my life outside. Another thing at this time is that Eunice stopped me having school dinners which I liked – probably because of the cost – and began to give me a packed lunch that consisted of a bit of iceberg lettuce, a slice of cucumber and a bit of tomato. There was no bread, so there was nothing filling in my lunch. I hated salad, like most kids, so being bored with having it every day, come rain or shine, I put it in the bin quite regularly. However, one of the children who was watching me from the house – probably Charlotte – saw me do it, and reported back to Eunice. So I had another beating for being ungrateful and wasteful.
    We children were not set up to be a happy household, to support and trust each other or to comfort one another when things got tough. No, we were set up as enemies from the start. We were to watch and monitor, then dob each other in to save our own skins. It made us almost feral, forcing us to fight our own corners, putting ourselves and our own survival first.
    In the hierarchy Charlotte and Robert came first, and the rest of us were to serve them. One day there were six pieces of bread on the table at tea time, and only five of us there. Thomas, being a boy, was always hungry and was eyeing up the extra slice. Charlotte, however, who always had a big appetite, also had her eye on the bread. Thomas made a move to pick up the slice
    ‘Mummy, Thomas is taking my bread,’ whined Charlotte.
    Thomas had hardly touched it, but Eunice, infuriated, picked up a nearby can and threw it at Thomas’s head. It hit him near the eyebrow and blood started trickling down his cheek
    Not missing a beat, Charlotte picked up the slice of bread and started munching.
    ‘That’ll teach you to be greedy’ said Eunice, not offering any help. I tried to give him a tissue for the blood, but Eunice snarled at me, ‘And you’ll do as you’re told. Sit down until I tell you to move.’
    Cowed, I didn’t move, but inside I was seething, not only at