Blind Fear

 

Kevin Mason peered over his heavy, horn-rimmed spectacles at Beverley Jackson.

'So, Miss Jackson, would you say that your relationship with Barry Abbot has been a good one?'

'We've had our ups and downs, like everyone,' she replied. There was little conviction in her voice. 'Life's not always easy, you know.'

'And how long have you been in this relationship, Miss Jackson?'

Bev put on her thinking face for a few seconds, then smiled.

'Since just after our Debbie was born. Two thousand and seven.'

Mason lowered his gaze to the thick binder open in front of him and appeared to study its contents. Bev shifted her weight and glanced towards the public gallery.

'Have you, or your daughter, ever been abused by Barry Abbot, Miss Jackson?'

Bev's cheeks coloured. For a moment she seemed unable to understand the question.

'A simple yes or no will suffice. Have either you or your daughter ever been abused by Barry Abbot?'

'No. Never.' The answer came too quickly. She looked towards the gallery again. 'He likes a drink now and again, but he's never been violent.'

Mason smiled and lifted a sheet of paper from the binder.

'Have you or your daughter ever sought medical attention for injuries at A&E, Miss Jackson? Please think carefully before you answer.'

Bev's eyes dropped to the floor.

'They were accidents. Everyone has accidents. That's why it's called Accident and Emergency.'

'Indeed it is.'

Mason glanced at the paper.

'Would you consider five visits between you in eighteen months rather more than accident-prone?'

'Sometimes things happen.'

'I'm sure they do.'

The coroner leaned forward.

'Mr Mason, may I remind you that this is a Coroner's Court. We are here to determine the cause of death. Miss Jackson is not on trial here, nor is anyone else.'

'Of course, sir. I appreciate that. The medical history is relevant to the circumstances surrounding the deceased's death.'

'Then please move on to those circumstances.'

'I will. Thank you.'

Mason closed the file halfway.

'Miss Jackson, how would you describe the relationship between your daughter Debbie and your partner, Barry Abbot? Did they get on well?'

'Well, he didn't hit her or anything, if that's what you mean.'

'That isn't what I asked. Did they get on well on a day-to-day basis?'

'I think so. I wasn't aware of any real problems between them. They seemed all right to me.'

'And your own relationship with your daughter? Was that all right too?'

'I loved my Debbie.'

Mason gave a small nod and looked down at his notes.

'When did Debbie begin self-harming, Miss Jackson?'

Beverley's cheeks flushed.

'In the last few months, I think. She was having some problems at school.'

'And did she confide in you?'

'No.'

'Were you able to help her?'

'I didn't know anything was wrong.'

'So how did you discover what she was doing?'

'I had a visit from Social Services. Some snooty cow came round and said the school had called them because they were concerned.'

'You hadn't noticed anything yourself?'

'No.'

Mason turned a page.

'The medical reports indicate that Debbie had been self-harming for considerably longer than a few months. Several years, in fact.”

“Well, I didn't know, did I?' Bev's voice sharpened. 'How could I be expected to know what she was doing if nobody told me?'

Mason allowed the silence to settle.

Then he looked up.

'Is Barry Abbot Debbie's father, Miss Jackson?'

Bev stared towards the public gallery.

'Miss Jackson?'

She said nothing.

'A simple yes or no will suffice.'

Her hands tightened around the rail in front of her.

'No,' she whispered. 'He isn't.'

A chair scraped loudly behind her.

'You fucking lying bitch!'

Barry Abbot was on his feet.

'You fucking lying bitch!'

Several people in the gallery turned towards him as he pushed past the chairs. The coroner called for order, but Abbot was already moving towards the rear doors.

They slammed behind him.

For several seconds nobody spoke.

Mason waited until the courtroom had settled.

Then he returned to his notes.

'Miss Jackson, when did you first discover that Barry Abbot was sexually abusing your daughter?'

The room went still.

Bev's mouth opened, but no words came.

She lowered her head and covered her face with both hands.

Mason waited.

'Miss Jackson?'

Her shoulders began to shake.

'You knew, didn't you?'

She looked up through her fingers.

'No.'

'You knew that Debbie had been self-harming.'

'No.'

'The medical records show injuries over a period of years.'

'I didn't know.'

'You knew Barry was drinking.'

'He wasn't always drunk.'

'You knew about the hospital visits.'

'They were accidents.'

'You knew Debbie was harming herself.'

'I didn't know why.'

Mason looked down at the papers in front of him.

'And now you're saying you had no idea that Barry was sexually abusing her.'

'I didn't.'

'How long had Barry Abbot been living with you?'

Bev hesitated.

'Fifteen years.'

'And Debbie was fifteen?'

'Yes.'

Mason nodded.

He gathered the loose papers into a neat pile.

'Fifteen years, Miss Jackson.'

Bev said nothing.

'Fifteen years of hospital visits. Fifteen years of living with Barry Abbot. Years of self-harm. Years in which your daughter was telling someone, somehow, that something was wrong.'

'I loved her.'

Mason looked at her and paused.

'I know you did.'

That seemed to hurt more than anything else he had said.

Bev lowered her eyes.

Mason closed the binder.

The courtroom remained silent.

'That's all, sir.'