She remembered her actions last night, and raised a hand to her face.
“This cut was caused by the belt buckle, although you can’t really see that was what it was,” she said, touching the wound. It had scabbed over now, but it was still stinging and tender.
“I see.”
Mr. Dellucci was writing rapidly. She hoped that the visible injury on her face would help to back up what she was saying, even though there was no way of proving that this was how it had occurred.
“What is your role in this family?” the manager asked, and Cassie hesitated, thinking about what she should say, because they were in dangerous territory now.
“Is it important for you to know that?” she tried.
“It is required,” he explained. “We have to complete a comprehensive dossier.”
Cassie nodded reluctantly. She guessed that in the absence of any footage, all possible information would have to be included.
“I’m the au pair. This will remain confidential, won’t it?”
Mr. Dellucci nodded.
“How long have you been working for this family?” he asked.
“Only three days. I’m leaving tomorrow, because Ms. Rossi’s mother is going to be looking after the children, but that concerns me too. She’s a family member who presumably shares the same views on raising children, and I’m worried she might turn a blind eye to the mother’s abuse.”
Cassie hoped she was sounding calm and reasonable. The tape recorder was on the desk and the manager was scribbling down detailed notes. She must make sure they contained enough information, so she provided more detail.
“Ms. Rossi was violently whipping Venetia with a belt last night. I happened to see so I intervened and managed to stop it. That’s why I was fired. I’m concerned about what will happen to the children from here onwards, and feel that Social Services needs to make surprise inspections in order to check on their well-being. You see, they’re afraid to say anything, which is understandable. I’m sure you see it all the time.”
Mr. Dellucci inclined his head.
“You have childcare experience? Qualifications?”
Another surprising question. She hadn’t thought that this visit would involve such a thorough background grilling, but if it would help the children, she had to be honest with the Social Services manager.
“I have limited childcare experience. I helped out at a daycare for a month back in the States. No qualifications.”
“So what work did you do in the States?”
“I waitressed, mostly.”
“I see. Tell me, have you or your family ever been involved in any abuse? Were you a victim of it in the past?”
Cassie leaped at this question eagerly. Finally, a chance for her to explain.
“Yes. My elder sister and I grew up in a one-parent household with an abusive father. I know what it’s like to be afraid of the person looking after you, and their friends, and what it feels like to be beaten by someone who is bigger and stronger and angrier than you are.”
“Thank you,” the manager said. “That is very helpful.”
“Can you do anything?” Cassie asked. “I’m so worried about them.”
“You need not worry. I will do whatever I can to assist in this case,” he said.
Relief filled Cassie.
“I really appreciate that you’ll be able to help,” she said. “It’s a huge weight off my shoulders.”
Mr. Dellucci stood up.
“Thank you for visiting us.”
Cassie hurried back to her car, buoyed by the success of her trip. The manager himself had promised he would do his best to help out. With the eye of the authorities focused on the Rossi household, Cassie hoped that Ms. Rossi would find it more difficult to continue with her awful abuse, and hopefully their grandmother would be given some firm guidelines to follow.
If the children developed a good rapport with the social worker, they would open up about their past and present situation. This way, the authorities would be able to monitor any changes, and be aware if the problem was starting up again. When she got home, Cassie decided she would speak privately to the girls and explain how vital it was that they should trust the social worker.
Cassie might be getting fired, but it didn’t matter anymore. The children would be safe and their guardians would be monitored.
She could leave with a clear conscience now, knowing that she had done her utmost to improve their lives. From here, Social Services would take over, and with the manager handling the case, Cassie was sure it would receive the necessary attention.
Feeling as if a weight had been taken off her shoulders, she climbed into her car.
The drive home took longer than going out had done. The weather had closed in and a sleety rain was falling, making visibility poor. Cassie passed a couple of fender-benders, with traffic crawling by.
She passed the time by thinking about what she should say to the children. It was vital that they should fully disclose their situation to the social worker. How could she explain to two frightened little girls, that the authorities would have power over their mother?
All they knew was that their mother had power over them.
She drove through the home’s ornate gate, making sure it closed behind her. Then she parked in her allocated bay and hurried to the front door with her head bowed against the cold, slicing downpour.
She dropped her front door keys and bent to pick them up, but as she did so, she realized that the door was opening.
Cassie straightened up, and her heart jumped into her mouth as she found herself facing Ms. Rossi.
She hadn’t expected her to be home. Maurice had said they would be busy all day, and that was why he’d given her his business card. Now, the tall businesswoman was standing in the doorway, blocking Cassie’s way. She was wearing a pair of exquisite white leather boots, studded with colored beads, with silver stiletto heels that looked as long and sharp as knitting needles.
Cassie stared at her nervously. Why was she standing here, in the doorway? Had
