Why?

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Why? Page 7

by Glynis Baxter


  With out thinking I responded. “I know, the coal man enjoyed it too.” My mum’s face was a picture, Jerry literally dropped his spoon in his casserole. “What the hell, does she mean by that?” Jerry yelled at my mum, it was the first time ever I had seen my mum lost for words, she was literally stuttering and tripping up over her words. Jerry looked exasperated, pushing back his chair as he stood up with that much force that it fell backwards, tumbling across the floor. “Sod this, I’m back off out.” He went to the back door nearly slamming it of its hinges as he went through it.

  My mum just stood in the middle of the room, glaring at me, I didn’t know how to respond, because as far as I could see I had done nothing wrong I had simply spoke the truth. “Danielle, why did you have to say that? Now look at all the trouble you have caused.” She was livid with me, she was actually spitting the words out at me. Now it was my turn to be stuck for words, so I simply shrugged, as I had no response I was not going to apologise for telling the truth. For the rest of the day she was slamming stuff about in temper and muttering under her breath, it was a relief when it was finally bed time.

  The next day, there was no sign of Jerry, but it was obvious he had been back from the corker of a black eye my mum was now wearing. I couldn’t look at her, I kept my head down while eating breakfast as to avoid eye contact. I was feeling guilty it was my fault he had hit her. Me and my big mouth, why did I have to say what I said. Now there was no taking it back, it was out there. It was strange, because though they were obviously having blazing rows while I was in bed, I never heard them only saw the evidence the next day on my mum. I had, due to the reaction of Jerry, started to wonder if something was going on between her and Ryan, something I had not even considered, while Ryan had been sat at our dining room table tucking into his monthly casseroles. Which explains why I probably said what I said on that fateful day, as I thought it was all innocent, obviously something Jerry did not agree on, due to his reaction, and the bruises on my mum.

  Jerry was away from home a lot in the day, which suited me fine as I could not stand him, but it was obvious when he had been home in an evening by the state of my mum’s poor face. No sooner had the damage healed than she was battered again. Coming down for breakfast one morning I was agasp at the state of her, not usually saying anything as it was an awkward thing to comment on that morning was an exception. “Oh my god! Mum, what the hell has he done?” You could hardly see her face it was awash with bruise upon bruise.

  “I would say that’s pretty obvious,” she replied. Even though I was only nine and scared of him, I wanted to give him a piece of my mind

  “Where is he?” I demanded.

  “He’s not here, Danielle.” I was not giving up, so I asked again.

  “OK, OK, if you must know he has been locked up for the night, pending charges.” My mouth dropped agape as I took in this new information. Arrested – crikey my mum had finally had enough, hopefully he was gone for good.

  17

  I went to school as normal, but could not really focus on any of my studies, as I was wondering what was happening back home. On my return my mum was still in; she had not gone into work, but called in sick. “Danielle, I have to go down to the police station, I won’t be long, I promise.”

  I asked her why? She responded by saying that she needed to drop the charges against Jerry, and that hopefully a night inside would pull him into line. Oh no, she had to be kidding, surely. Why would she want him anywhere near her after the beatings she had took. She put on her coat and virtually ran out, saying she had to get a move on, that there was a deadline, and if she didn’t make it he would be spending another night behind bars. I hated him, he could rot in there for all I cared.

  Jerry never returned home with her, and I was left wondering if she had done what she had said, or if she had met up with Ryan, who would surely be gunning for Jerry once he saw the state she was in. Her face during the day had puffed up even more, her eyes looked shut from all the bruising, her lip had split from the swelling and one side of her face appeared uneven to the other. I wasn’t sure if it was from all the bruising or if he had actually broke her cheekbone on one side. Personally I would not have gone out the door looking like that, but I guess my mum had got used to it over the years, and maybe even carried her injuries as a sign of resilience, and was not bothered who saw her, or was just past caring.

  My mum had Jerry arrested half a dozen times after that if not more. It was always the same story: he would batter her, she would have him done for it, and then she would drop the charges, and he would be released. In the end the police had enough, and had built up enough evidence against him, so that the final time my mum went running to them for help after another beating, they arrested him as normal, but when she went down yet again to drop the charges, they refused to release him. My mum was beside herself she didn’t know what to do, or what the outcome would be for her once he was let out, she was a nervous wreck. “Oh god, Danielle, what have I done? I should never have gone to them in the first place, it is all my fault.” Obviously I had no sympathy for him, and hoped he would be banged up for a long time, but sadly he wasn’t, I don’t know the outcome, but I know he went to court and was found guilty of asault and battery.

  On his release, Jerry again was not around much, he would come home after work have his dinner my mum had prepared, and then go straight out again. It was tense at home, but he never appeared to hit her again or if he did it was not anything you could see as in facial injuries. My mum was bitter towards him saying, “He was nothing but a pervert with his filthy porn mags. He thinks we know nothing about the ones hidden under the sofa.” This was the first I knew about any of this, and being an inquisitive nine year old it was obvious that at the first opportunity I was going to check this new information out. So as soon as my mum left the house I was rooting under the sofa looking for the magazines, how I wished I had kept well away. Pulling magazine after magazine out from under the sofa, there must have been around sixty of the things, I had never seen anything like it in my life, I could not even find words to describe what I was looking at.

  I never opened any of the magazines, I just sat there totally shocked by the images on the front covers. Everyone was different, but were the same in a bizarre way; they were all pictures of naked girls and women in various stances, a few had women and naked men on the covers performing different sex acts. They made me feel sick to the stomach to look at, and I wished my mum had never said anything, just glancing at them was enough to turn my stomach, I could not believe people would lower themselves to do this, for perverts like my so-called step dad to perv over.

  I hurriedly pushed them back under the sofa, wishing I knew nothing about their sordid existence. I sat on the sofa trying to take in what I had seen, but then again trying to erase the images from my mind but no matter how hard I tried the filthy images stuck like glue. In the end I could not even bear being sat on the sofa, as it made me feel filthy and sordid, so I sat on a chair opposite glaring at the sofa willing it to burst into flames or the stuff under it just to evaporate.

  It was awkward when Jerry came home for dinner that evening; I could not stand to look at him, never mind make pleasantries or small talk. I had the image of him in my head of the morning he came into my room stark naked.It had not felt right at the time, it felt like something he should not have been doing, or I should have been seeing. I was also wondering if he would know I had seen his magazines, that they had obviously been tampered with and were out of order, that’s if he kept them in some kind of order. You know new edition, favourite – the very thought of it made me blush and shudder inside. Well, I would just have to wait and see if there was going to be any consequences from my childish curiosity. Thankfully after dinner he went out as per usual, he was all dressed up, stinking of the aftershave of the time – old spice I think, or something similar. He smelt like he had bathed in it, it was that pungent.

 
18

  My dad kept his word, and a few weeks after our trip to the airport he was back to take me out. I was excitedly waiting on the front as his car pulled up, my face dropped as I saw he was not alone. Sat in the front passenger seat was Maureen. Oh no what is she doing here? I wanted my dad to myself, this wasn’t fair. My dad held the car door open for me as usual as I climbed in. “We’re going to the coast today, Danielle, and as it’s such a long way, I have asked Maureen to join us.” Maureen turned round in her seat and smiled at me, but I did not respond. I didn’t want her here I wanted it to be just me and my dad.

  Halfway to the coast we pulled into a service station for a toilet break and a drink; there had hardly been two words spoken between any of us on the first part of our journey. I was obviously sulking, and any conversation my dad tried to engage in with me simply got a yes or no response. Maureen spoke a little but in hushed tones to my dad, but sitting in the back I could not make out what was being said between them and to be honest I didn’t care.

  It was an odd day to be going to the coast; it was the beginning of November and the weather was bleak, windy and cold. My dads car was nice and warm, but as soon as you stepped out it made you shudder, and you just wanted to get back in his car as quickly as you could. After our tea break we proceeded to the coast. I would have been happy for my dad to turn the car round there and then and take me back home. It was not the same Maureen being there with us, and she never spoke two words to me so what was the point her even being here.

  The second part of the journey as the first was in partial silence; I kept looking at my dad through his visor mirror, and he would wink back at me and make me giggle. “Right we’re here. Jump out, Danielle, and just climb over that dune and you will see the sea,” my dad announced, I looked out the car window where I was settled and warm.The wind was that strong it was whipping the tops of the trees from side to side. The sand on the dunes was swirling around and looked like it was doing its own ritual dance, with the grasses being blown from side to side with such force, it was literally whipping them out the ground.

  I shuddered and wrapped my coat tighter around me, there was no way I was getting out the car. Litter in a nearby litter bin was suddenly lifted out the bin and was clattering down the road. Oh my god are these people crazy wanting to get out in this? Maureen was the first to brave it, with my dad slowly following her; their hair was getting blown all over, and Maureen’s scarf no matter how many times she tucked it back in her coat was blown out a second later. They turned to me and waved to me to get out the car, I simply shook my head – there was no way I was getting out. They walked a little down the road but never braved climbing the dune to see the sea, and after a few minutes dithering returned back to the car. My dad nearly lost the car door as he opened it as the force of the wind nearly caused him to lose his grasp on it.

  Their cheeks were glowing when they resettled themselves back in their seats. “My word it’s parky out there, lass, I can’t blame you for not getting out, I nearly lost my footing, and followed that litter down the street,” he laughed. Maureen mentioned lunch, so on the way back we called into a restaurant; this time I was handed a menu, but, glancing at it not sure again what to chose, Maureen pointed out a children’s menu.

  The restaurant was warm and inviting after being sat so long in the car. It was not busy and we were soon served. I had ordered fish fingers and chips off the children’s section. It felt more comfortable sat in there and my dad and Maureen were chatting. They told me Maureen had two daughters and two sons, and the next time we went out I would be introduced to them. They explained they were all older than me but not by much, and that they knew all about me and were excited to meet me. My dad said that no matter what, I would always be his little girl that there was only one Danielle Margaret Foster. I nearly choked on my drink: Danielle Margaret Foster that was not my name, my name was Danielle Margaret Jackson. My dad shot off his chair and slapped me on the back laughing, “I don’t know, Danielle, that’s what you get for drinking so fast.” Tears were running down my cheeks, from the force of the pop going down the wrong way, and I could barely speak. “No it’s not that, Dad,” I spluttered, and I was on the verge of telling them about my name, and then remembered the incident with Ryan and how I had spoke out and the trouble it had caused, so quickly added, “Yes you are right I should be more careful.”

  When I was dropped off at home I ran in to ask my mum why my name was different to my dad’s. She sighed, then went on to explain that it had been easier to call me by Jerry’s surname, as I was so young when they had got married it was easier if we were all called the same. Not really understanding she went on to explain, that when I was enrolled for school, and she was faced with the paperwork she figured it would make life better for me at school if all our surnames were the same. She also said that all my records were in the name of Jackson doctors, hospital and school it saved confusion, but on my birth certificate it was clearly stated my name is Danielle Margaret Foster.

  I was not sure how much more I could take. Since turning nine, my dad had appeared from the grave; my mum had obviously taken up with some new guy, that I had been unknowingly a part of; I had four possible step brothers and sisters I never knew anything about; Dawn had tried to cave my head in with a brick; my mum was being constantly attacked by my stepdad, who had been in and out of jail; I had found out he was some sex pervert due to his sickening magazine collection; and now my name was not my name. My head was spinning, I felt like I was on some kind of crazy roller coaster that just never ended, and I just could not get off.

  19

  I was struggling with all this overload of information, I could find no reason or meaning to any of it, it was just madness. If I needed or wanted to talk there was only my mum, and I didn’t want to keep raking stuff up, as she was dealing with her own stuff, plus she was never a sympathetic or loving parent. I found myself wishing, we lived up north near my grandparents and aunts so I could have someone impartial to confide in, but then again would I, or would I feel I was betraying my mum? After all she was the only one there for me.

  I didn’t know what to do with all this pent up emotion, I started to swear as a way to get some release, obviously not in front of my mum or Jerry, but when I was with my school mates, or playing out I would swear like a trooper, stringing one swear word on to another, trying to get all the venom I felt out of my system. It obviously did not work, I still had all this hurt and anxiety building up inside of me, but for a few seconds it helped.

  After school a few friends had come back with me to my house. My mum and Jerry were out so it didn’t matter, and we were only messing about in the garden. I had found an old rusted hammer and was venting my temper on a few bits of rubble scattered on the floor. The others were entertaining themselves with different activities: the boys were hunting under stones and rocks for worms and bugs and the youngest of us was singing nursery rhymes to her doll.

  I raised the hammer thinking, Right, I am going to smash you into a thousand pieces. Slamming the hammer down, I missed the rubble and the hammer came smashing down on my hand. “Fucking hell, you bastard thing.” The words were no sooner out of my mouth than a voice thundered across the garden: “Danielle, get here. I’ll teach you once and for all to come out with that filth.” Everybody froze and turned at once. It was Jerry; he looked furious. “Danielle,” he roared “don’t let me have to tell you twice.” Shaking I made my way towards him, I knew this was not going to end well, and I was embarrassed that my friends were going to witness my fate.

  He flung open the outside toilet door – oh no I really did not want my friends to witness this. He went to grab my arm but I gave him the slip, so he grabbed me around the waist, forcing me into the toilet. “Get here, you little brat, you’ll never swear again once I’m done with you.” Turning me upside down I knew what was coming. As he lowered me into the toilet I managed to spread my hands on the toilet seat so h
e had to force me in. I could feel my arms buckle and as I went down I managed to get a glance of the three children stood watching outside the toilet door. There was a scream from the youngest girl, who could not bear to watch and who had gone running back to her parents screaming at the top of her voice.

  The shock of hearing her screams stopped Jerry in his tracks and he placed me back on my feet, he appeared stunned there were other people present and looked visibly flustered, obviously he had been focusing on me, and probably not been aware the other children were even there. Nearly knocking the two boys aside he muttered, “Danielle, go back and play.” Feeling totally humiliated I went back up the garden, with the two boys following me. One of them came over and asked if I was OK? And who the man was. Shaking and through floods of tears I explained he was my stepdad. The boy put his arm round me and said, “You poor sod, what an evil man.”

  A few days later my mum and Jerry, were walking down our street. I saw them, so ran up to meet them, but as I got to them a man came flying out his door, making a bee line for us. “You, I have been watching out for you,” we all froze as he headed straight for Jerry. “You call yourself a man? Terrorizing a small child, and not any child may I add, but my daughter. She came in the other day screaming and in tears at what she experienced, and has not slept properly since.”

  Jerry instantly flushed up stammering, for his words. “Danielle, here take the key, and run along.” It was my mum. I took the key she offered and slowly ran down the road. Jerry had still not found his voice and as I glanced back, I could see the man had a hold of Jerry by his shirt collar and was ranting into his face, looking like he would punch him out if he made one move. From where I was, I could not make out what was being said, but it looked serious. My mum was stood about three feet away looking puzzled by the whole situation, and was looking nervously around to see if anyone was witnessing the commotion.

 

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