Authors: D. G Torrens
The
neighbo
u
rs were not
favourable
toward our family in the least,
and I was now noticing the strange looks we received from them, along with the pointing and staring. Some of the local children were told to keep their distance from us by their parents, due to our foul-mouthed
mother,
something any respectful parent would do.
My relationship with M
other became more volatile as
I started sticking up for Jake.
Robert
’
s departure
had
changed me a little
, and I knew
there was no longer an adult around
to defend us.
I was now the oldest sane member of this household. It started to become very apparent to me that the way we were being
treated was not the norm at all.
I started a
sking myself a lot of questions:
Why us? Why our mother? Were we so bad, was it so terrible having us around?
I had no idea why
I could do nothing right
in my mother’s eyes.
I
felt s
ad most of the time, as did Jake;
life was just too hard. Although I st
ill feared M
other, I told myself that I needed to stick up for Jake when she hit him for no reason, or called him terrible names to
humiliate him. Robert leaving M
other continued to have a downward effect on her
,
and the atmosphere became
tenser
in the hous
e. Mother was drinking
more
than ever before, and
she to
lerated us even less.
W
e were often left outside all day, regardless of weather conditions, only to be allowed back into the house from teatime
onward
. We were guaranteed a barrage of abuse when it was time to go in and would once again be made to feel worthless. Another guarantee was an empty bottle of vod
ka somewhere in the house that M
other had devoured.
I remember
one
morning
when M
other got up early and informed me I was having my h
air cut. I assumed this meant a trim, but M
other had other ideas. I had lovely
,
long
,
dark hair and was very proud of those loc
ks. We went to see a friend of M
other
’
s
,
and she was
told to give me a feather cut. I
t was short, layered
,
and horrible
.
I hated it. This was done purely out of spite
,
and not because I needed a haircut. I spent the rest of that day in tears, looking at myself in the mirror
,
my
lovely,
girly locks
were gone, and I thought I
looked like a boy. Mother smiled and giggled her way through the day, obviously finding it a
ll very amusing. Unsurprisingly,
all the other kids in our square laugh
ed at me, pointing and staring,
and
it was just humiliating. A friend of mine told me that I still looked pretty, but I kn
ew
I didn’t. To top it all off, I kn
ew
I would have to face school on Monday morning and no doubt the pointing and laughing would start again.
Over
the next few days, I prayed that my hair
would grow
back quickly, but that was obviously not going to happen. Monday soon came
a
round
,
and I think building myself up for such a terrible time
made the day a little easier.
I managed to g
et through that Monday morning
just about
,
and the other children had moved
on
from their insults by the afternoon.
Back at home, we soon started to notice the arriva
l of a man in an R.A.F uniform. H
e was a very handsome and well-dressed man, always turning up at our house armed with bags of sweets a
nd lots of chocolate. W
e wer
e told to call him Uncle Steven,
and this was fine with us as he was very pleasant. More to the point, so was our mother when
he was around. For Jake and I, M
other being so
happy was like being in heaven;
we were temporarily re
lieved from our miserable lives.
Uncle Steven would take us all into the car park to see his green Ford Cortina; we were not used to seeing cars on our estate, at least
not new ones with all the tires
on! We were allowed to sit up front and beep the horn,
and
for that moment we were the envy of
all
the other kids on the estate. I had n
ever felt like that as a child;
for all eyes to be on Jake and I in envy
has to be one of my proudest memories. Uncle Steven became a frequent visitor
,
and we all thought he was great
. He introduced
us
to chocolate spread on toast . . .
mmm
,
I loved it! He always came armed with a stack of chocolate spread, which Jake and I t
hought was the best thing ever. T
he chocolate jar would be
almost clean by the time we
finished
,
and most of it would be all over our faces!
Uncle Steven was on leave for a couple of days and h
e was staying the night with us.
T
his was the only
time we really liked our mother,
when he was around. He seemed to bring
out the best
in h
er for a reason we did not know,
and
he
genuinely seemed to like us kids too
,
which was a plus point. We all felt so proud when he walked up t
o our house on a visit. T
he
neighbour
s
’
curtains would be twitching at the sight of this tall
,
handsome man in his R.A.F. uniform.
Uncle Steven always gave our mother mon
ey to pay any outstanding bills
and a bit extra so she could stock up on cigarettes and vodka. He was very generous
,
and I thought he was a gift from
God.
F
or a while we felt like we were a normal family whenever he was arou
nd. Our mother was lovely to us and happy in his presence.
W
e all laughed and joked together;
M
other would send us out to play for a while during his visit
,
telling us she needed some private time
with Uncle Steven. O
f course we were happy to oblige and would run outside, sit next to the green
Ford Cortina, and eat
our sweets
happily
! We watch
ed
over his car
,
protecting it against the thieves
,
which were rife on the estate.
When his visit ended
, M
other would
be in a great mood for a while.
S
he even attempted to get up
early in the morning and help us all to get ready for school. She
occasionally did my hair in my
favour
ite
princess style
(my hair had grown a fair bit);
I loved my hair like that. As time went on
,
we had totally forgotten that Uncle Steven was not our real uncle
.
W
e had accepted him into the family whole-heartedly and wished every time that he did not have to leave. We were fascinated with his stories of the
Air Force
and all his worldly travels to Singapore and the like; he was fast becoming our hero. Jake wanted to grow up to be just like him. He t
alked endlessly of joining the Air F
orce when he grew up. For a while things at home were quite calm
, and M
other
’
s te
mper did not surface very often. S
he had her moments
,
but they had lessened
.
Uncle Steven seemed to have a
calming effect on her, which was
for now
,
at
least, transforming our lives—
a calmer life for us all.
Uncle Steven
’s next visit was a month later.
W
e were all dressed in our Sunday best and extremely happy and excited as he had promised presents for us all! I watched for his car at my bedroom window
,
which overlooked th
e road at the back of the house.
I dreamt of him being our new father as we all thought he was perfec
t.
Ja
ke and I talked at length when M
other was not around about how lovely it would be to live a normal life
and to have a proper family;
our mother would be hap
py and so we would all be happy.
O
h how we prayed this would be. I squealed with delight when I saw his green Cortina speeding up the road
.
A
s far as Jake and I were concerned th
is was like a Rolls Royce to us.
I
ran downstairs
,
shouting
,
“
H
e’s here
,
everyone
,
he’s here
!” Mother was excited too. S
he smiled, asking us all to calm down and to give him time to get through the door before we all jumped on him! It seemed like forever since we had last seen him.
As soon as the door
opened (M
other had supplied him with a key of his
own), we jumped all over him. H
e looked so smart in his uniform and hat
and
we were all so proud. Mother told us all to go and sit down while she took him into the kitchen for a chat
. S
he always ensured this was the first
thing she did when he arrived. A
ll the red-letter bills were displayed in a line on the kitchen counter in order of importance of which he would go through
and write out checks
for each and every one.
Once that was out of the way, M
other unleashed us on him
,
and we would all sit down listen
ing to his stories while M
other cooked a roast dinner.
I had noticed a significant shift in the
ir
relationship
.
T
hings were
definitely getting more serious.
Jake and I were taking bets on how long it would be before he was a permanent member of the family. Oh how we prayed, hoped
,
and talked at length about it. Were we lucky enough to have such
a wonderful thing happen to us? W
ould he propose to
our mother? Oh how we hoped
with all our heart. We imagined a life with happy parents,
and
holidays to Uncle Steve
n’
s cottage in Oxford. Were we really lucky enough to be granted with such a wish?
We prayed hard and often that we would be.
Uncle Steven felt like
our last chance at a happy life.
Jake and I had pinned all our hopes on this happening. We
,
of course
,
played our part
when he stayed with us;
we would take his coat, pass him his slippers, fetch him water,
and we
ensure
d that both M
other and Uncle Steven had a
ll the private time they needed
while
Jake and I would take care of Jenny and Susie. It was almost like our mother had had a personality transplant
;
for the most part we hardly recognized her
as
she was so nice to us when he was around.
It was not long before
M
other announced we were being re-housed to a four-bedroom house on another rough estate some three miles away. At first Jake and I were saddened at the news
,
as it seemed t
o us we were always on the move.
W
e never stayed in one place for very long
. As soon as we had made new friends
and
became
used to our new schools, we were uprooted yet again. Eventually we came round to the idea, knowin
g it was going to happen anyway
and soon mustered up enough positive energy to embrace the move.
For several days M
oth
er seemed in good spirits while
we were all busy packing up r
eady to move into our new home. H
er jolly mood was infectious. Along with the regular visits from Uncle Steven
,
life was definitely on
the up. The day of the big move
the
moving
men packed all the boxes and furniture into the
lorry; M
other made sure she had unscrewed all the light bulbs and took down all the netting
,
and
carpets were taken up to be refitted into our new home. Even the garden plan
ts were uprooted as these were M
other
’
s pride and joy.
On arrival at our new home, the excitement was evident; M
other had assured us this was going to
be a fresh start for all of us.
W
e basked in this glorious news and were rushing around the new house all placing claim to our chosen bedroom. Jake and I had the smalles
t of the three rooms available,
and
Jenny and Susie had to share a room
so they
had the largest one. Mother had the master bedroom. I caught her adding those large bolts
to the doors
to each of our rooms, watching her while she was doing this, my stomach feeling queasy at the very tho
ught of it.
I was hop
ing with this fresh start that M
other would do away with the locks and bolts on our bedroom doors. For the first time ever I questioned the bolts and asked her why? I was met with a cold reply, a reply that was a harsh reminder that our real mo
ther was still hovering around,
“
T
o stop you from leaving your bedrooms
,
of course
,”
s
he replied coldly.
I knew
then that our unpredictable, bad-
tempered mother had not gone away, that she wo
uld again resurface before long. T
here was a look in her eye that made my blood run cold. I was no longer feeling so positive, no longer feel
ing that this was a fresh start.
I knew all too well that our unpredictable mother would still make our lives un
be
a
ra
ble
. We
would still be locked in our rooms with no lights most of the time,
and
we would still have to spend all day
on the weekends
outs
ide no matter what the weather
because she could not cope with us all in the house when school was out.
The house was a basic
four-
bedroom council house sandwiched in a row of three on Broughton Estate. We had a new house, a new school, a new life. Once again we had to make a new friend, which was not a hard task on this estate as it was full of kids of
a similar age,
and everyone was living in poverty of one form or another. Uncle Steven was a r
egular visitor at our new house and helped M
other out a lot on his visits, fixing this and that around the house
, and making sure M
other had enough money.
Then
o
ne day
M
other gathered us all
a
round the table in the dining room and announced she was getting ma
rried to Uncle Steven.
W
e were all delighted, and our screams could be heard all the way down the street. On his next visit
, Uncle Steven
w
as armed with gifts for us all. Mother told
us how we we
re all going to live together, which was
music to our ears. Uncle Steven had a son from a previous marri
age, who was older than me at thirteen
years of age
.
We had not met him yet
,
as he had not been very well for some time,
but we had seen a photo of him.
We knew he was not well, but
we had no idea what the problem was or how serious his condition was. Uncle Steven did not speak of him much.
He was always talking of the future
and making elaborate promises.
I was p
romised a flat when I reached eighteen
years old
,
and Jake was promised a top
of the range
motorbike! These were dreams beyond our wildest imagination; we had never in our life been this happy. But it was not to last. Uncle Steven left us all on that visit full of hope and promise for the future, but it soon transpire
d
that we were never to see him again.
A
week later
,
we enroll
ed in
our new school
,
Broughton
Middle School.
W
e settled in well and took an imme
diate liking to this new school.
M
ost of the children who attended were from poor families, who also lived on our new estate, so we did not stand out at all. In fact, we blended in very well and made lots of friends. I loved school and it was my
favour
ite
place to be;
sometimes it felt like a sanctuary from our home life.