Читать книгу Trapped: The Terrifying True Story of a Secret World of Abuse онлайн | страница 37

Phillipa, by contrast, was perched nervously on the edge of the seat opposite Phoebe, her hands twisting a napkin. Expensively coiffured, with high cheekbones and thickly lashed blue eyes, she made me feel a bit scruffy in her presence and I began flattening down my disobedient hair. She should have been beautiful and yet an air of coldness shaded any radiance from shining through. She glanced towards me then quickly looked away, smiling towards her daughter. ‘So, what have you been up to, darling? Have you been keeping busy at Rosie’s?’ I got the feeling she made the enquiry because it was expected of her, rather than out of genuine interest. There was definitely a distance there.

Been keeping busy at Rosie’s?

An uncomfortable silence followed Phoebe’s mocking of her mother, eventually broken by a self-assured Robin. ‘I bet you’ve been – the most …’ I couldn’t make out the entire sentence because the pair were snuggled so closely together, him whispering affectionately into her ear. Every now and again her bony hand rose up, touching her father’s cheek. It was as if Phillipa’s presence was superfluous to both father and daughter. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one to notice.

Phillipa lowered her gaze, looking ill at ease. I felt instant pity for her. Leaning across the table, I decided to try and engage her in conversation, an effort to ease her discomfort.

‘Do you mind if I ask you a few things, Phillipa?’

She shook her head. ‘Not at all.’

‘What does Phoebe like to eat? The only thing I can tempt her with is porridge.’

Phillipa reddened. ‘She’s fixated on cereal at the moment, I’m afraid. Becoming fanatical about certain things can be one of the effects of autism.’ She seemed to shudder when she mentioned her daughter’s condition. It was strange, really – she was so articulate that I should have been the one who felt intimidated and yet it was she who appeared flustered.

Embarrassed to delve into issues of hygiene with someone so refined but feeling obliged to investigate, I asked her why Phoebe’s hair was matted.


Представленный фрагмент книги размещен по согласованию с распространителем легального контента ООО "ЛитРес" (не более 15% исходного текста). Если вы считаете, что размещение материала нарушает ваши или чьи-либо права, то сообщите нам об этом.