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Day 253
Saturday 6th May 2017 22:24It all kicked off today. We found out which one of us is the child sex offender and there was an unexpected twist.
I went to see John and Yvonne in the morning. John answered the door and gave me a huge hug. I didn't expect that. He thanked me for listening to Sophie and bringing her back to him and Yvonne. "It's not been a good night," he said, "Yvonne's been up with Sophie all night. She hasn't left her room. Poor little thing's scared she's going to get in trouble. Whoever's done this to her has really frightened her." "You still don't know who it is?" I asked. John shook his head. "Luke, she's terrified," said John, "We've tried asking her but she just won't say. Can you have a go?" "Me?!" I exclaimed. "She likes you," said John, "She said you were nice to her." "John, the other day you and Yvonne thought it was me that was some creepy child abuser and now you're asking me to get her to name her abuser." "Forget about the other day," said John, "I can kind of see how it was all a misunderstanding. It was a very weird misunderstanding but still a misunderstanding nonetheless. Please try. We have to know who did this to our little girl." "Look, I'm not a child psychologist or anything like that," I said, "I might do more harm than good." "Luke," said John, "At this point I really don't know how much more harm you could do. Please try. She spoke to you yesterday and she might speak to you again now."
I reluctantly agreed to try and speak to Sophie. Yvonne left Sophie's bedroom and I tentatively entered and sat on the edge of the bed. Sophie was laid in the foetal position scrunched up to her duvet, cuddling her teddy bear. I asked her if she was OK and she didn't respond. I had no idea what to say so I tried to remember what I did when I spoke to her yesterday. "Want to hear another joke?" I asked. Sophie vigorously shook her head. "I know!" I said, thinking I'd come up with a good idea, "How about a trick? I can roll my tongue." I started to perform my party piece but as I haven't done it in a while, I ended up biting my tongue, banging my head on the weird shaped lampshade, stubbing my toe, tripping on a toy, cutting my head on the side of a drawer and falling flat on my arse. Sophie burst into laughter and I was left in heap on the floor looking like a plonker and feeling like an idiot. As I lay on the floor with a swollen tongue, a throbbing toe, an injured head and blood trickling down the side of my cheek I realised that my clumsy shenanigans had helped Sophie to forget about her abuse for a bit. "Well that's charming," I said with a cheery smile on my face, "I bang my head and you burst out laughing. That's the last time I try and show you a party trick." I sat on the bed closer to Sophie and told her it was nice to see her laughing. There was a short pause and after a bit more chitchat I asked Sophie what she thought would happen if she told us who had touched her. "He said I'd get into a lot of trouble," said Sophie, "And he said bad things would happen to me if I told anyone." "Listen to me," I said in a kindly tone, "If you tell me the name of the person who touched you, I promise to make sure nothing bad happens to you." "But I'll get into lots of trouble," said Sophie. "No you won't," I said, "Because you haven't done anything naughty. If you tell me, that means you'll have done something really smart and really brave so you won't get into trouble, you'll get a big hug and I'll take you to the beach and we can build sandcastles. The only person who will get in trouble is the person who touched you. He's the one that's done something naughty, not you." There was a pause. Sophie looked contemplative and then looked at me with big innocent eyes. "Promise?" she asked. "I promise," I said, "I'll make sure of it." There was another short pause and I looked at the edge of the bed with my heart racing and feeling anxious. Sophie was about to tell me the name of her abuser and I thought I was about to find out the name of the secret paedophile. Sophie looked at me and said . . . "Roger. It was Roger." Sophie started crying so I gave her a hug. "The vicar?" I asked. Sophie nodded as she sobbed into my arms. I told her she had done the right thing, that I was proud of her and that I would tell her parents. "No!" she urgently and loudly yelled. "Why don't you want me to tell them?" I asked. "Because they won't believe me," sobbed Sophie, "They'll tell me off and say it was my fault. I'll get into trouble. That's what Roger said." "Sophie," I said, "I promise you that they will believe you, they won't tell you off, they won't say it was your fault and you won't get into trouble." I felt really angry at Roger. What an abuse of power. He's a vicar for f*cks sake!
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