Marina had barely let Josephina out of her sight. Even in the hospital when they wanted to check her over she had insisted on being with her. She wouldn’t be parted for one second. And Josephina, clinging to her, felt exactly that same way.
Once they had returned home, there had been a week of sleepless nights. Josephina not wanting to close her eyes in case the scary woman was there. Marina had done everything she could to reassure the child, and she had gradually started to sleep. But the nights then became punctuated by nightmares, with Josephina waking up crying and screaming. They had moved her bed into their bedroom to have her near to them. Eventually they had just let her into their bed.
She hadn’t let go of Lady. Marina had tried to take the toy off her, wash it at least, but Josephina wouldn’t let her. So there it had stayed. Filthy dirty, ragged, but loved.
And that was OK.
One night after getting Josephina into bed, Marina and Phil had sat in their living room, trying to lead normal lives once more. Pretend they were ordinary again. Sharing a bottle of wine.
‘Only to be expected,’ Phil had said, ‘after what she’s been through.’
‘Oh, absolutely,’ Marina had replied.
‘Is she going to be … you know. Scarred by this for life.’
Marina had shrugged. ‘I hope not. You and I had much more traumatic childhoods and we did all right.’
‘We were lucky, though,’ said Phil. ‘We found ways out.’
‘True. We’ll just have to make sure that Josephina doesn’t need luck. Children are resilient and they can forget things. But trauma like this can do massive damage. Massive. Even if she buries it deep in her subconscious, under all the other layers of memory she’ll acquire. There’ll be some trace memory of it, some emotional unease.’
‘Should we be worried about that?’
‘I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see. All we can do is be there for her. Make her feel safe. Loved. Yes, take her to a specialist if we need to, if things get worse and she needs professional help. But for now, let’s just see how it goes. Let’s help her to get over it.’
Phil said nothing.
‘We’re here,’ said Marina. ‘We’re alive. That’s the main thing. If we’re alive there’s always hope.’
‘And human beings forget things,’ said Phil. ‘Memories fade. Pain fades. It’s how we can carry on. All of us.’
She looked across at him. Wondered if the words hadn’t just been about their daughter but his father as well.
They had sat in silence.