When I was a little girl, my mum taught me to use a code word if I was in trouble and couldn’t speak up. As I became an adult, I decided to adopt this brilliant method from my little girl. I figured she could use it to get out of a sleepover or in case of an awkward encounter. But I had no idea she would need it so soon.
So yesterday was like any other day, or so it seemed to me. As I sat in the kitchen finishing my evening coffee, the phone rang. It was my ex-husband Dave. Our relationship, once filled with warmth and affection, has grown strained over the years.
The divorce was taking its toll, and although we tried to maintain a civil relationship for the sake of our daughter Amy, the situation often remained strained. ‘Hi, Claire,’ Dave’s voice came out, a little hesitant. “Amy wants to talk to you. She asked me to tell you about her day since she got here.”
That caught me off guard. Amy usually enjoyed weekends with sleepovers at her father’s house and rarely called me during those visits. ‘Sure, tell her,’ I replied, trying to keep my voice even. The fact that Dave sounded a little distant only added to the anxiety that was beginning to settle in my stomach.
‘Hi Mum!’ Amy’s voice was as cheerful as ever, but there was something in the way she spoke that I couldn’t understand. It was unusual for her, so I was wary and listened carefully.
“Hi, honey! How’s your weekend going? Did you have fun?” I asked, hoping to keep the conversation light.
“Yeah, it’s been good. We went to the park yesterday and this morning I drew some pictures. I drew a dog, a tree, and… I wish I had a blue marker so I could draw blueberries.”
Those words came down on me like a tonne of bricks! There it was: our code word. My heart raced, and for a moment I was speechless. In the midst of her baby talk, Amy had dropped our ‘password.’
When my daughter was younger, I taught her the importance of having a secret word. It was something she could use if she felt unsafe but couldn’t say it outright. We had a word for blueberries, but I never thought she would use it.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to stay calm because the word meant ‘get me out of here immediately. “That sounds great, sweetheart. I’m on my way to pick you up. Please don’t say anything to your father. I’ll talk to him when I get there.”
‘Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?’
‘No, that’s it,’ she replied, her tone was still sweet, but you could hear the notes of something else in it: fear? Uncertainty? I couldn’t be sure, but I knew one thing: I had to get her out of there.
‘I’ll see you soon, okay?’ I said as nonchalantly as possible.
“Okay, mum. Love you.”
‘Love you too, my Amy Wemi.’
I heard her giggle as I hung up the phone, my hands shaking. I tried to figure out what could have happened. Dave had never given me any reason to doubt his ability to take care of our daughter, but something was wrong.
I grabbed my keys, making a decision. I had to go to my ex’s house and pick up Amy.
When I finally got there, I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. To my surprise, it wasn’t Dave who answered, but a woman I didn’t recognise. She looked at me with a mixture of curiosity and annoyance. ‘What can I do for you?’ – She asked in a harsh tone.
‘I’m here to pick up my daughter,’ I said, trying my best to keep my voice even. ‘Is Dave home?’
‘He just went out on business,’ she replied, crossing her arms. “But Amy’s inside. Who are you?”
‘I’m Claire, Amy’s mum,’ I said, my patience wearing thin. ‘And you are?’
The expression on the woman’s face didn’t soften. “I’m Lisa. Dave’s girlfriend. We’ve been living together for a few weeks now.”
I blinked, stunned. Dave had never mentioned that he had a girlfriend, let alone that she’d moved in with him. Why hadn’t Amy said anything about it before? But now was not the time to ask questions. I needed to get my daughter out of there.
‘Well, Lisa, I just remembered that Amy has a doctor’s appointment early in the morning and we need to talk about something before then,’ I lied, forcing myself to smile. “I forgot to tell Dave about that. I’ll just pick her up and bring her back later.”
Lisa didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue either. ‘Okay, but I’ll let Dave know.’
‘Sure,’ I said as I walked past her into the house. Amy was sitting on the couch, curled up on the couch, colouring in a book. When she saw me, her face lit up, but I could see the relief in her eyes.
‘Hi, honey,’ I said, trying to keep it light. ‘We need to go get ready for our doctor’s appointment tomorrow, remember?’
Amy nodded and stood up, clutching her book to her chest. She didn’t say a word as she followed me out of the house. Lisa watched us, her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t stop us.
As soon as we got in the car and pulled away, I looked at my daughter. ‘Are you okay, baby?’ I asked softly. At first Amy nodded, but then as the tension of the situation eased, she began to cry.