Dr Rob

Episode Ten: Dr Rob

She handed her daughters to a stranger and waited. The hardest thing she had ever done.

The court has appointed a child psychologist. His name is Dr Robert Radcliffe. He is kind, patient, and experienced. He is also about to hear things from two small girls that no child should have to say.

Episode Ten follows the assessment process — the box exercises, the waiting rooms, the fear of being accused of coaching, and the moment Molly ran out of the house and up the road rather than speak about her father.

Four voices this episode:

The story of the sessions, the boxes, and the body that spoke when words failed.

The law on expert witnesses, psychological assessment, and the limits of a clinical snapshot.

Vanessa's reflection on the cruelest paradox — the more you have survived, the more you must conceal what surviving cost.

The stage — seeking evidence, and the fear that nobody will believe the children.

Her body could not stay in the room while someone tried to talk about her father. That flight was testimony. The system did not know how to hear it.

#ImplacablyHostile #DomesticAbuse #FamilyCourt #ChildPsychology #SurvivorStories #CoerciveControl #MothersRights #YouAreNotAlone #DomesticViolence #WomensPodcast #TrueCrime #HealingJourney #Podcast #NewPodcast

Transcript

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SPEAKER_00 0:20

Chapter ten. Doctor Rob, three months later. Vanessa turned to Jane, clasping her hands. So what's next? The child psychologist will get in touch with you within the next week or so, Jane replied. The courts will appoint someone neutral. It's back to the waiting game until we know who's been assigned. Vanessa nodded, feeling the familiar wave of frustration. She knew the waiting game well. Nearly two years had passed, waiting and hoping the courts would see sense. This weight, though, was different. This weight would ultimately define her daughter's future. Eight days later, the call came. His name is Dr. Robert Radcliffe, Jane said. A well-respected child psychologist with over 20 years of experience. He'll call you tomorrow to set up appointments. Tomorrow? Vanessa exhaled. How am I supposed to sleep now? You've come this far. Don't start doubting yourself. The first sessions. Nobody really prepares you for handing your children over to a stranger. At least not in this way. Vanessa sat in waiting rooms, pretending to read magazines she couldn't remember a single word from afterwards. The girls disappeared through doors with professionals she had only just met. Then she waited and worried. And waited some more. There was a particular fear she rarely admitted out loud. The fear that the children would not say anything. The fear that they would protect her. That word seemed to hover over everything. Coached, as though frightened children could not possibly have reached their own conclusions, as though somebody somewhere was waiting to decide whether their fear was authentic enough. Vanessa had spent years trying not to influence the girls, trying not to ask leading questions, trying not to say what she really thought. Yet now she found herself worrying that simply being their mother might count against her. Vanessa and the girls arrived at Dr. Radcliffe's practice the following week. She had dressed them in their best clothes and then cursed herself immediately for doing so. This wasn't about appearances. The door swung open to reveal a tall man with greying hair and soft, kind eyes. Mrs. Wilson, please come in. I'm Dr. Rob. The only time I ever use doctor is in the cafeteria when I'm trying to get the last piece of cheesecake. Despite herself, Vanessa smiled. The girls were immediately distracted by the toys in the corner. I want you to know, Dr. Rob said, that at no point will I be judging your parenting. I'm here solely to observe and understand your daughter's relationship with their father, to listen to them, get a sense of what they need, and offer my professional opinion on whether contact is in their best interest. Vanessa nodded, but her heart was pounding. This stranger held enormous power over their lives. The sessions began slowly, cautiously. Each week Dr. Rob spent time with the girls, observing their interactions, asking gentle questions. He was patient, kind, and never rushed them, earning their trust with every visit. As time went on, Dr. Robb asked Vanessa to step out, allowing him to speak with the girls alone. It was hard. So hard, leaving them in there, knowing they were being asked about Clive. But she knew he needed to hear their unfiltered voices. The box exercise. On one visit, Dr. Robb brought a new exercise, a game involving small boxes, each representing a family member. Vanessa watched from the kitchen as he set them out on the table. Let's pretend each of these boxes is someone in your family, he explained to Charlotte. Here's your mum. And here's your dad. No, Charlotte said firmly. She picked up the box marked Dad and moved it to the far side of the table. He's not in my family. Dr. Robb nodded, scribbled in his notebook, while Vanessa stood in the doorway holding her breath. When it was Molly's turn, things didn't go as smoothly. Here's Daddy's box. No, Molly yelled, slamming her fists on the table, her small body shaking with anger. I don't want to talk about him. She leapt off her chair and stormed out of the room, running upstairs. Vanessa and Dr. Robb exchanged a look. He sighed and wrote another note. I'm sorry, he said. I didn't mean to upset her. It's okay. Vanessa replied softly. This has taken a lot out of all of us. A loud crash from upstairs, small footsteps running. Molly burst out of the front door, hastily pulling on her shoes as she fled up the road. Without hesitation, Vanessa ran after her, catching up and pulling her into her arms. Tears streamed down Molly's face. She didn't say a word. Vanessa held her tightly, feeling the weight of her daughter's silent pain. When they returned to the house, Dr. Robb apologized again. Vanessa shook her head. Molly wasn't running from him. She was running from the memories. The report arrives. After weeks of sessions, Dr. Rob called to say the assessment was almost complete. For Vanessa, it was bittersweet. She had grown used to the routine of his visits, knowing they kept Clive at bay for a little longer. But now, with the sessions ending, the final decision loomed closer. The girls were weary of the process. They no longer wanted to see Dr. Rob, not because they didn't like him, but because they were tired of talking about their father, tired of being reminded of the fear he had caused. As Dr. Rob packed up after his last visit, he smiled warmly. I have everything I need. The girls hugged him goodbye. A heavy sense of finality settled over Vanessa. Vanessa then sat with Jane clutching Dr. Radcliffe's report, her heart pounding. Dr. Radcliffe acknowledges that Clive was undoubtedly a threat to you, Jane said carefully. His violent behavior toward you is clear. However, he stops short of concluding that Clive is an immediate physical threat to the children. But you've seen how scared they are. They don't want to go near him. I understand. The report does highlight the psychological trauma the children have experienced, particularly from witnessing violence. But legally speaking, the courts may not view his actions against you as sufficient grounds to bar him from seeing the children. The courts still operate under the presumption that maintaining contact with both parents is in the best interest of the child. Vanessa shook her head. So because he didn't hit them directly, they think it's safe to send my daughters back to him. Even after everything? We'll use this report combined with your testimony and the girls' demonstrated fear. We'll push for a no-contact order. This isn't over yet. Jane reached out, placing a comforting hand on Vanessa's arm. I know this is incredibly unfair, and I will do everything I can to fight for you and the girls. You're strong, Vanessa. You've been through so much already. Author reflection.

SPEAKER_01 8:53

This chapter was painful to write because it deals with one of the most unbearable features of the system, the way children's distress can be translated into assessment language and then partially neutralized by process. A mother can bring terror, history, instinct, behaviour, and detail, and still be told that the machinery must continue. For me, this is where court started to feel like another form of abuse. Not because it is identical to domestic violence, but because it can replicate some of the same emotional conditions, disbelief, minimization, forced contact, the demand to keep engaging with the source of fear, and the constant implication that if you object too strongly, you become the problem. Molly running out of the house and up the road. I have not changed that it happened. A small body could not stay in the room while someone tried to talk about her father. Her flight was a form of testimony, and the system did not know how to hear it. The body does not always speak the language of legal proceedings, but it speaks the truth.

SPEAKER_02 10:07

The legal landscape, family court in 1990s Britain. Expert witnesses and the limits of assessment. The instruction of a child psychologist or similar expert witness was in the 1990s family court a significant step. Expert reports carried considerable weight with judges, both because of the professional credentials of their authors and because they were perceived as more objective than the testimony of parties who had obvious interests at stake. The difficulty was that a psychological assessment, however thorough, was necessarily a snapshot, a series of observations conducted in the clinical context of a professional's office, not in the lived context of the family's daily life. Children who were frightened of their father might, in the structured, safe environment of a psychologist's room, appear less distressed than they were at home. The concept of witnessing domestic violence as a form of harm to children, even when the children were not directly assaulted, was better understood by the late 1990s than it had been a decade earlier. However, the translation of that understanding into judicial decision making was uneven and slow.

SPEAKER_01 11:20

What stage was I at? Stage seeking evidence. What I believed, the children would finally be heard, independent professionals would help, truth would become clearer. What I feared, nobody would believe the girls. The girls would protect the people they loved. I would be accused of influencing them, what I did not yet know. The children were carrying far more than I realized. Their bodies would tell the truth even when words failed.