My great aunts from Walker came to visit and stayed at ours for a week. It was lovely to see them, but I couldn’t spend the week with them as they had come down in term time. The arguing at home still continued but while they were there they tried to keep it to mainly daunting each other and bickering. I would see my aunties looking at each other, obviously feeling uncomfortable at the tense atmosphere in the house. They would walk me to school everyday and collect me at the end of the day with Theresa. She was not used to being walked, so pulled, and with being a sleigh dog was hard to keep a hold of, but nevertheless to make me happy they would be stood with Theresa, waiting patiently at the school gate. I was sad to see them leave, and they never came back for a return visit.
A few weeks later as I was returning from school, my mum and Jerry were walking down our street with Theresa on her lead. Surprised, I rushed up to them asking where they were going. “We’re taking her for dog training, so she walks better on her lead.” Satisfied, I continued up to the house and let myself in. The house seemed empty with Theresa not being in to greet me as usual, but I understood she needed to be better on her lead. They seemed to be out for ages, and I wanted Theresa home, I wanted to cuddle her and tell her about my day so I found myself pacing waiting on their return. I heard the door open, and ran to the door to greet them, they both walked in and closed the back door after them. Confused, I reopened the door calling Theresa in, there was no sign of her, “Mum where’s Thersa?” The panic was obvious in my voice. “She’s gone, Danielle.” Her words cut into me like a knife – gone, gone, how? Why? No, no it wasn’t possible. I loved her she was my confidant, my best friend. How could they do this to me? I ran to my room in floods of tears. I hated her, I hated both of them, I would never ever forgive her for this, NEVER. I withdrew further into myself, not allowing anyone to get close so they could not hurt me – I was constantly thinking of my dog. Was she safe? Happy? Loved? Was she missing me as much as I missed her? The resentment for my mother was toxic, I was six years old, lonely, scared, had no one to turn to or trust. That’s when the thumb-sucking began, I was always getting told off, but it was the only thing I found any comfort in.
The next school holiday there was no sitter, my mum would take me with her to the public house where she worked in the afternoon. I would take in books to read and colouring books, and the locals would involve me in their games of cards and dominoes and teach me how to play; they were kind to me and kept me amused while my mum worked to stop me getting bored and under her feet.
After work sometimes we would wander round the shops of Mansfield, we never bought anything, but it was nice to look and dream, and though I was still mad with my mum it was nice to spend a little time with her. One day on returning home we saw that Jerry was back from work early. He asked my mum general questions: What had she been up to? Who she had seen? etc. I sat on the sofa in total disbelieve as my mother made up this crazy elaborate story of how she had took me to the doctors, how the surgery was running late, and she wasn’t sure if I was going to have to go back. I wanted to shout out “No, that’s rubbish, why you saying these things? Stop lying,” but I didn’t dare. I knew it would cause trouble, plus if I spoke up I might lose out on spending time with my mum. So I kept quiet, and listened intently as she was making up this elaborate untruth, puzzled at what her intentions were.
I was getting good at keeping secrets, keeping quiet; I never spoke up about my messed up family life. I don’t know if it was because I was scared, felt a strange loyalty to my parents and didn’t want them to get into trouble, or simply because there was no one to turn to or tell.
In an evening, I was left alone with Jerry looking after me, while my mum worked at the pub. On the whole he left me alone, finding me a burden and a nuisance to have to bother with. So he would send me up to bed early to get me out of his way. No matter what time it was I would never dare venture back down those stairs; I used to just lay there staring up at the ceiling till I drifted off to sleep.
On one of these evenings my mum had gone to work as normal, and about half an hour later a man turned up with a friend of his; they were both sat drinking beer and laughing and joking. I was sat on the floor, finishing off a jigsaw waiting for the inevitable, “Danielle, bed,” I looked up at the clock it was way passed the usual time for me to be dismissed, but I wasn’t going to say anything, I simply carried on playing, keeping quiet and hoping he might not notice me.
They were getting louder, laughing and joking as the beer cans piled up on the coffee table. “Danielle, come here.” I got to my feet and went over waiting for, “OK Danielle, bed,” but it never came. Still laughing he pulled my legs from under me so I fell backwards onto the carpet. In a flash he had pinned me down and was over the top of me, and I was screaming at the top of my voice: “Get off, leave me alone.” He wasn’t listening, he was laughing his head of, he held me steady and pinned me to the floor with one hand while using the other to tickle me. I had never been so scared and I was screaming, begging for him to stop. I hated every second of it, every second he had his hands on me. I was choking on the tears but he was relentless, laughing in my face, laughing at me squirming and wriggling on the floor trying to get away from his tormenting hands. When he let go I crawled sobbing into a corner of the sitting room at the side of the chair, trying to make myself so small, I would simply disappear. They were both pointing at me ridiculing me and laughing, this became a regular bedtime ritual when he had friends around. So I soon learned to put myself to bed as soon as one of his so-called mates showed up.
5
It was fast coming up to the six weeks holidays again, mum told me I would be staying with my grandparents again up North, that they would be having me every year in the main holiday, as she had to work. This time I was excited and pleased, it meant I would get to see them plus my aunties, and Tanya. I was still grieving over the loss of Theresa, and still bitter with my mum, so I was happy to be going.
We caught the coach as normal, again arriving in Newcastle late. When we got to my grandparents’ they came rushing out to greet us, and once I entered their home I instantly felt safe. My mum had managed to persuade my grandma to allow Granddad to go out for a few drinks with her to the local pub. I could see my grandma wasn’t happy about this, as my granddad wasn’t a drinker, and according to her wasn’t bothered about a pint. They went out laughing and joking like a couple of naughty teenagers let out for the night. I was in bed by the time they returned, and waking up the next morning, I was informed she had already left for her coach.
I started to blossom being at my grandparents’. I was allowed to laugh, play, mess about without any repercussions. My great aunts would collect Tanya and I everyday to go to the park, they seemed to know loads of people and would stand for what felt like ages chatting and catching up on the day. I didn’t mind as I knew there was always that cornet on our return journey back to my gran’s.
I was starting to understand their accent more, and enjoyed sitting and just listening to them chat, and trying to pick out weird and strange words I wasn’t accustomed too. “Wey aye, man!”, “Howay man!”. It made me smile, especially when there was company round and everyone was speaking at once.
My grandparents didn’t drive, but they decided we were going for a day at the seaside. The weather was glorious, so armed with all the essentials, packed lunch, sun cream, sun hat etc. – we all set off for Whitley Bay, even Tanya was allowed to come. It turned out to be a great day they bought me a bucket and spade, an ice cream, and we spent all day on the beach – me playing, and the adults with their trousers rolled up sunning on the beach. I ran poor Tanya off her tiny paws, running up and down the beach with her, playing and laughing. My granddad took some pictures to show my mum on her return, my mum had not been mentioned all holiday, and this cast a shadow on a perfect day knowing it would soon be over, and I would have to return back home. As my seventh birthday fell in the school holiday again, I c
elebrated it with my grandparents and aunts. My grandma had done everything perfectly just like the year before, and I never even noticed the absence of my parents.
My mum came to my grandparents’ early, before the end of the six weeks holiday. They were surprised to see her. She told us she was back, as she needed to speak to me. Taking my hand, she led me to a chair and lifted me up onto her knee, a very unusual act to say the very least. Looking over at my grandparents, who were watching over curiously from the sidelines my mum began: “Danielle, I am afraid, I have some bad news for you.” I twisted around on her lap so I could see her face as she spoke. “Danielle I am sorry to tell you that you won’t be going back to your usual school.”
Before I had a chance to respond my grandma jumped in, “What do you mean, she can’t go back to her usual school? She is settled there, you can’t just move her around willy nilly to suit your own selfish needs.” My granddad took hold of my grandma’s hand and slowly led her out of the room, her protesting all the way.
“Danielle, you will be moving school because the one you are at is closing. They are going to move the school to a new area and it’s to far away, you would have to travel by bus, plus it’s got a uniform policy, and to be honest I can’t afford it. You will be going to your new school straight after this holiday.” It had taken me ages to finally settle at my school I was slowly getting to know people, and was making new friends.
“Mum, will my new school be like my old one? Will everyone be walking round in funny outfits?”
She smiled at me and, trying to stop herself laughing, replied, “No, Danielle, they are habits, they’re what nuns wear. Your old school was a Catholic school, the new one is, if you like, a normal school; everyone wears standard clothes.” A Catholic school, nuns – none of it made any sense to me. “Danielle, try not to worry, it’s a really nice school, and you will soon adapt and make new friends, local kids you can go out and play with.” She lifted me off her knee and placed me on the floor. “Now, Danielle, you wait here, I need to explain all this to your gran.”
Waiting in the lounge I could hear my grandma yelling at my mum, it sounded like it was getting pretty heated. I went to the big picture window and looked out onto the street, children were playing with a whip and spinning top, trying to see who could get it the furthest. I watched mesmerised thinking, OK, so maybe it wouldn’t be too bad changing schools, if I could find friends to play with like that.
Finally, as no one had come to get me, and it appeared to have fallen quiet in the other room I went to join them. My grandma appeared to have calmed down, and my granddad was sat at the dining room table looking anxiously between the two of them. My mum had picked up a book and was sat reading, or pretending I’m not sure which, but the atmosphere was still tense. “Danielle, get your coat. We are going out for some air.” It was my granddad speaking, I retrieved my coat off the back of the diningroom chair and followed him outside.
My granddad held out his hand, and I took hold of it as he led me down the street. I had no idea where we were going; my granddad had never taken me out before on his own. He didn’t speak, he simply led me down one street after another finally we arrived at the sea. There were big ships as huge as my little eyes could take in. “Wow Granddad, look at those.” There must have been at least seven or eight of these ships tethered at the dockside
“I know, hinny, this is where I work. I help make these ships.” I looked up at him, and realised I felt small at the side of him. Wow, my granddad was a ship builder. Wow, how cool was that. The ships laid out in front of us were all the colors under the rainbow. We carried on walking down the dock and he pointed out the cranes, explaining to me what they did and how they worked. We sat and watched the tide as my granddad rolled a cigarette. I was fascinated watching him roll his cigarettes, he usually did it in an evening, and I would sit and watch him for hours. He had a magic metal tin which opened up, he put the cigarette paper in a grove in the tin added his baccy, closed the tin and hey presto a cigarette popped out. On our return to the house my grandma and mum were chatting and everything appeared to be back to normal.
It was nice, having my mum staying with me at my grandparents’. She took me out to Newcastle for the day and pointed out some of the sights, and we had a return journey to the seaside. So when she told me it was time to pack up and go home I was gutted. Why couldn’t we just stay here? It was nice here, there were people here that cared about me. I protested to my mum, “No Mum, I want to stay here a little longer,” but all my protests fell on deaf ears.
“No, Danielle, we’re going, and that’s it. You’ll be back next year and the year after that, plus you have a new school to start and new friends to make. It will be exciting. So now, Danielle, stop being silly, we’re going.”
We caught our usual coach back, I found it hard to settle, wondering what was waiting for me at home. My mum never stopped chatting on the way back, but I wasn’t really listening, I was more focused on what was going to happen next. My mum held my hand walking up to the house, I didn’t want to go in as I hated it there; I hated everything that went on behind those four walls.
6
Jerry, as I was to call him now, was not in, thankfully, so I was able to get unpacked and settled back in. I was watching television when he got back. He never even glanced at me, just sat in his usual seat, paper spread out in front of him. My mum was home in the days running up to me starting my new school, and we were out and about, busying ourselves with buying new clothes and shoes ready for me to start my new school as I had shot up over the summer holidays.
I was not worried about starting a new school, I trusted my mum and we had been getting along well since she came up North to collect me from my grandparents’.
The new school was bigger than my old one and again the building was sectioned of into two parts: the front being the primary school and the back junior school. There were two playgrounds either end; the younger children had their own, and so did the older children. The junior school playground was much bigger than mine, with large concrete tubes scattered around the yard, plenty big enough for children to sit in and hide, chat and shelter from the odd shower. The primary playground was made up of nothing but concrete with a hopscotch game marked out in white paint.
My teacher, Mrs Taylor, was lovely and helped me settle in her class immediately. The register was called as per usual in my old school, then we were taken to a large school hall for assembly, all the children in the school were gathered there, I nervously glanced around and I could not believe how many there were compared to my old school. The children were all shuffling on their feet, and chattering as a voice boomed out, “Silence in the hall, children, the headmistress is on her way.” Instantly silence fell, there wasn’t a whisper, in the middle of the hall was a podium raised off the floor with a resting table on top similar to what they use in church. A figure appeared, stood above us all. I looked up, and saw that it was a woman around fortyish, who was very conservatively dressed, and she spoke perfectly. All eyes were on her as she welcomed us back to the start of the term.
I stood staring at her, I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. She had split into two people, one above the other. I shook my head and looked again – yes, there were definitely two of her, as I was stood there closing my eyes, and reopening them. Tilting my head left and right, but no matter what there remained this second image of her floating in the air. Was I going mad? I looked around, no one else seemed to be witnessing anything unusual; they were all patiently waiting for her to finish and to be dismissed back to their classes. I knew no one in this school, no one I could confide this news too. As the day went on, I was busy finding my way around the new school, meeting new people, finding the dinner hall. So during the process of the day I forgot about the strange occurrence, until the next day and the next and so on when it happened every single time in assembly looking up at my headmistress on her platform.
&n
bsp; My mum was taking me to and from school, while I settled in my first term. I loved her taking me and picking me up; we would chat about my day, and on the way to school we would call into the local fruit and veg shop where I was allowed to choose some fruit for my lunch. I had started to make a few friends who lived on my street, and after school I was allowed to play out with them for a while in the park at the top of our street.
I had settled in well in my first term, my mum was right, everyone was nice, and I was actually besotted by my new teacher Mrs Taylor. She didn’t appear that old, maybe twenty or just over; she was slim with long black hair that flowed down her back, and she was so enthusiastic about her lessons that you couldn’t help but get spurred along. She was always praising us, something I was not used to as praise was alien, so I revelled in it, wanting to do well in her class to make her proud of me.
I needed no encouragement to do any homework set, or do my reading and fill out my reading chart, as soon as I stepped indoors out would come any work set, and I wouldn’t look up till it was finished. My reading and spelling was improving and I worked hard to get top marks in any tests she set.
I was actually sad when it came to the end of my first term, again my mum had not organised a sitter, so I went into work with her each afternoon while she did her shift at the pub. The regulars welcomed me back with open arms again, allowing me to join in with their cards and dominoes by the end of the school holiday I had become quite a little hustler.
Why? Page 3
