LITTLE VOICES
175,000 abused or suffering children a year try to call Childline but can’t get through because demand is now so high... that’s why we have joined forces with the NSPCC for our Christmas fundraising campaign
There were beatings that came out of nowhere, when she was yanked from her bed and punched in the face. She suffered slaps with hard-soled slippers or blows from a broom handle, hair pulling and even bites.
Once, in a mindless fit of rage, her mother had her up against the wall with a carving knife to her throat.
Then there was her mum pouring ketchup over her head as her family laughed, and skivvying like Cinderella while her half-siblings played.
From age five, Collette Elliott recalls her mother and stepdad abusing her both emotionally and physically.
But the worst pain was the loneliness that would gnaw at her until she decided she could bear it no longer – and felt that she would rather die.
She recalls the nights as the very lowest point at the end of every long, terrifying day she faced as a child.
“All the time I felt alone but the evenings were unbearable,” she says.
“They made me go to bed at 6pm, long before my little brother and sister. I could never sleep and I wasn’t allowed a book or a drink. I would lie in bed and think about dying, or them dying, and squeeze my eyes tight shut.
“My stepdad would come in to check but pretending to sleep didn’t work. He would know and punch me. I’d lie there and take it in the end.
“After a while I stopped feeling the physical pain, it was normal. But the loneliness was the hardest thing.”
Now Collette, from Birmingham, is backing the Daily Mirror’s Light Up Christmas for Children with the NSPCC and Childline because she wants no child to suffer as she did.
Every hour, the voices of 20 kids seeking help go unheard, figures show. Some 175,000 a year are at risk as they cannot get through to Childline services, which urgently need an extra £500,000 in funding a year.
It means one in four cannot be helped – but the campaign aims to make sure no more remain voiceless.
Collette says when she tried to tell teachers or social workers, her parents’ denials were heard over her pleas. Childline can be an abused child’s only lifeline. “It is so important,” says Collette. “I felt there was no one I could speak to. If I could have rung someone from my bed, had someone listen and believe me, it would have changed everything.”
Collette, 40, recalls seeing Childline ads but was too scared to ring, and she had no mobile. She says it is vital that kids in need know their calls will be answered. “I don’t want any child to feel alone,” she says.
Collette has one photo of herself as a child with mum Maureen Batchelor, who looks doting as she cuddles her.
Despite everything, Collette has it in a frame as it is the relationship she desperately wanted. But she has no memories of a single hug or kiss and
thinks the image was contrived. “That isn’t my mum. She never said she loved me,” she says. “That look in her eyes is false.”
Maureen was working as a prostitute when Collette was born. The youngster never knew her dad. She was in and out of care but when Maureen wed Pete Batchelor, when Collette was five, she returned to them. They had a son and daughter of their own and treated her as an outcast.
Even today, Collette cannot understand. “I remember my sister falling and going to hospital. My stepdad blamed me. I was 10. In the two hours I waited for them to return I remember total fear. I got the worst beating.”
She recalls walking home from school dreading what she would find: “I spent my life walking on eggshells.”
Collette left home at 16 but maintained contact. It is difficult to understand why but she says, heartbreakingly, that she always hoped for their love. But they both died in the past four years and Collette feels she never got it.
From 18, she has had help for health conditions including PTSD, depression and anxiety, and does not work. She still has weekly counselling. “The effect of abuse on a child, through to their adult life, especially if they do not receive help, is huge,” she says.
Now, she is happily married to Scott, 34, a painter and decorator, and has daughters Sianie, 20, Tamzin, 18, Codey, four, and Tegan – who turns 10 today. “I would get nothing on birthdays,” Collette says, adding she does everything to cherish her own kids.
She says she was let down by social services. The service Childline offers means they should never have to seek help alone. And it is never more vital than at Christmas, says Collette. For her, that was perhaps the loneliest time of all. “My siblings would open presents with Mum and Pete,” she says. “I would be around the corner, opening a vest and pants. They had stereos and toys. My favourite Christmas film was Miracle on 34th Street. That scene at the end where the couple get together and the little girl is so happy – they are all so happy together. I still love watching that now.” It was a scene that encapsulated everything she craved.