Why?
Page 9
This was my last year at primary school, which entailed us all taking our eleven plus to determine if we were going to the local secondary, or if we passed, the grammar school. We were all under a lot of pressure to work hard and achieve our full potential, being given endless homework and assignments to complete. I was determined to do well and work hard to get to the grammar school. My mum never put any pressure on me, and never really seemed that interested in my school work. I got the usual “No television until your homework’s done”, but she never checked if it was done or not, or asked if I needed any assistance. I was just left to get on with it. The school justified all this extra work, saying it would put us in good stead for when we all moved on, because then we would really know how hard homework was.
Coming home from school loaded down with books for my next assignment, I found my mum in. She was tearful and upset. She had a glass at the side of her with possibly sherry in, but I was not sure, but I knew it was alcoholic. As I walked in she glared at me, I knew instinctively not to say anything and just go to my room. “Danielle, you know your dad, he is a wicked man. That woman he is now married to, he was carrying on with her while I was pregnant with you. I can remember the day as clearly as anything: I was sat in a chair knitting you some booties, and he stood right in front of me and told me he was leaving us for her, her and her four brats.” Jestering with her hands she stood up staggering. “The needles I was holding in my hands I plunged into him, into his arm.” She was doing the motions through the air of needles being plunged deep into someone’s arm. “Danielle, he left us both, never looked back just went off with her. It caused me to have a complete mental break down, and you need to know that you were born in that mental hospital.”
I stood looking at my mum in total amazement, I was born in a mental hospital, the words were spinning around and around in my head “a mental hospital, a mental hospital”. In that moment it felt like my entire world had just caved in and I had a total loathing for my dad. I did not care if I never saw him again, I did not want to see him again ever, not as long as I lived. My mum had collapsed back into her chair and was silently sobbing; I could not go and comfort her, I was in total shock. I needed to get out of there, I needed to escape.
I ran out of the house and to the only place I felt safe: the park at the top of our road. I needed air I needed to clear my head. Everything in my mind was jumbled, and I was struggling to process this new information. I sat on the park bench looking at the horizon but not really taking it in, just sat there looking out to space. Why did this stuff keep happening to me? I was born in a mental hospital I knew it was true by the state my mum had been in. Christ if this was ever to get out I would be mortified, I would never live it down. I wanted to die, or the ground to simply swallow me up right there and then. I looked down at my hands they were visibly shaking, in fact every inch of me was shaking. It was then I realised how cold it was, the wind was howling around me I could feel the ice in the air, I did not want to go back home, I wanted to go anywhere but there. I continued to sit lost in my own thoughts, I was scared to go home, I did not want to hear anymore, anymore of my messed up life, but the icy wind had got the better of me so crying I returned home.
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Somehow I managed to keep it together, I never mentioned a word of what my mum had said to anyone, how could I, I would be a laughing stock. It would have given Dawn the ultimate weapon to beat me with, without laying a single finger on me. I had lost my spark though, I was totally squashed. It felt like I had taken an emotional beating. My mum thankfully never mentioned it again, but it remained with me like a black stain on my heart, it made me feel worthless and miserable. I would burst into tears at the simplest things, and not have the strength to retaliate when the children at school teased or taunted me.
I tried to focus on my studies and assignments as a distraction, but it was hard I could not shake it out of my head, I wish she had never told me especially now, when it was such an important academic year. It was only a few weeks and I would be sitting the eleven plus, the school were making a big deal of it. So I knew it was important to do well.
When the day finally came, we were put on individual tables in our classroom, spaced out so we could not cheat or glance at another class mates answers. “Right, class you have one hour from now, so turn over your papers and begin,” said the teacher. Apprehensively turning the paper over I glanced down at the first question, taking a sigh of relief I answered it easily and the next ten questions without a pause. OK I can do this, it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.
Suddenly the classroom door opened and another teacher walked in, followed by a line of students. “Oh I am so sorry about this, but their teachers been taken ill, so they’re going to have to sit in here until we sort something.” Glancing round I saw the line of children, roughly about ten of them, but the one that made my heart sink was Dawn lined up with the others staring straight over at me. “OK, children, go find a seat, but you need to be quiet,” my teacher announced. Dawn immediately came over to where I was, and pulled out the chair at the side of me, she was smiling. “Hi Danielle, you OK? What yer doing?” Looking away from my work I told her that it was an exam, the eleven plus. Trying to refocus she carried on chatting putting me off the task at hand. I did not dare not respond to her, I was scared of her, and before I knew it the hour was up and I had not even turned the page to the next set of questions.
Damn, why had she had to come into our class today of all days? She had totally messed up my chances of going to the grammar school, but I could not just blame her: it was her and the school’s fault. Why had her teacher had to go off sick on this day, on one of the most important days of my life? I would seem like a complete failure, when my papers were marked, well the one page of it that is. I had spent all that time, all that hard work preparing for this exam, and now it was wasted, wasted by a series of circumstances out of my control. As predicted I failed the exam and would be going to be attending the local secondary school after the summer holidays, the other children who had passed were delighting in their achievement but I felt cheated of my rightful place.
Jerry was less and less at home, and my mum had started always having a glass at the side of her as a companion. Most days she was drunk, and when she got drunk she got nasty, raking up the past calling my dad every name from a dog to a pig. She was pulling me down with her nasty comments and criticisms. On one of these days she told me that Jerry was seeing another woman, and that the next day they were going to the cinema together and we would be there to catch him in the act. I did not think much of it and just put it down to the rantings of a drunk, but sure enough the next day I was ordered to put on my best attire as we were going to the cinema.
I had mixed feelings about this, I was excited as I had never been before, but apprehensive of the outcome if my mum found him there with the so called other woman. When we got in the cinema the film had already started, my mum was leading, and I was closely following as I was struggling to focus in the strange gloom. She led me to some aisle seats and sat down. “There, look, look it’s Jerry with his girlfriend,” she whispered, and sure enough Jerry was sat at the side of us in the opposite aisle seat looking straight at us. As he saw us looking he turned to the girl at the side of him who lent forward to check us out.
Oh my this is awkward. I tried to focus on the film being shown but was well aware of the eyes burning into us from the opposite aisle. I could feel my mum trembling at the side of me from either temper or nerves. How I wish this film would end so we could get out of here. There was not a word exchanged between Jerry or my mum, just awkward glances but I refused to take my eyes off the screen. In different circumstances I would have enjoyed being here, seen it as a treat, but there was no way this was a treat – this was purgatory. Finally the film ended and the lights came on, I went to stand as to leave, but my mum pulled me back in my seat. “Wait,” she hissed. Glancing over to Jerry and the
mystery woman I heard Jerry sigh. As he rose from his seat holding the woman’s hand she followed him down the aisle. I could not see her face properly her hair was jet-black, long with a centre parting that hung over her face like curtains obscuring her features. She appeared tall and was very slender her body appeared childlike. “Right come on we can go now,” my mum announced, after this Jerry stayed away.
A few weeks later while I was at home with my mum, he walked in, slowly followed by the mystery woman.To say my mum looked shocked would have been an understatement. She stood and watched as they made their way into the sitting room, and stood in front of the open fire. Glancing at my mum for some kind of reassurance I could see she was at a total loss at what they were doing there. Jerry started to talk calmly, even kindly, addressing me. “Danielle, I am leaving and I won’t be back. We are here because we want you to come with us, to come and live with us in our new home.” My jaw dropped totally stunned, looking at my mum her mouth was also on the floor but her bottom lip was visibly shaking. “It’s up to you, Danielle, you can go with them if you want,” my mum managed to stammer. I could not believe I was even being asked this, asked this by the man who had physically and emotionally terrorised me for years. Why? Would he even want me? I knew my answer; it was a no brainer. My mum was far from perfect, but she wasn’t the monster he was. “I’ll stay here, I want to stay with my mum,” I replied. Jerry actually looked upset by my response and turned to the woman he was with saying, “Well I tried, no one can say I never tried,” and without a backward glance they both left.
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A few days later on returning from school there was an open truck, typical to a scrap mans truck loaded up with all our belongings outside our house. My mum was stood talking to the driver and Ryan was also there. Unsure what was happening I approached them. “I have taken everything. I’ve not left him with a pot to piss in, Danielle. We are moving into a new house, and we will be living with Ryan from now on.” I looked at the truck piled high with our belongings, strapped and clasped securely. “Come on, Danielle, where leaving right now, before he shows up.” Grabbing my hand, my mum led me down the road.
“Are we not going in the truck, Mum?”
“No, Danielle, it’s not far. Ryan and his mate will meet us there with the truck.”
She was right, it was not far; in fact just a couple of streets away, and as we arrived the front door was open and Ryan and his mate were busy unloading the truck. The new house was on a busy main road. It was a typical terraced property two-up two-down with a kitchen at the back and a small back yard. When Ryan and his mate had finished unloading, to my mum’s dismay Ryan announced he was off to the pub and would see her later. Which to be fair would have been OK except nothing had been put in its rightful place, which left me and my mum dragging beds, mattresses, wardrobes etc. up a flight of stairs. While we were busy mum told me that they had bought the property between them, and would have moved sooner but were waiting on all the legal stuff to be sorted before they got the keys.
The house was nice; it was warm and cheery, not like the old one that was damp and dreary. It had been nicely decorated and was in good order, with an open fire in the lounge and sitting room. My mum told me that Ryan was not working on the coal lorries anymore and had got a job working down the pit on the face. That’s when I realised we had been moved by a coal lorry – how embarrassing. Well at least there was one, plus even though it was only a few streets away I was far away not to see Dawn and her mates.
I did not know Ryan. He had come round for his meals when doing his delivery at ours, but that stopped once I had dropped my mum in it. I figured he was obviously a drinker, and my mum was furious he had left us in such a pickle just to get a few pints. By the time he returned the place had started to take some order: we all had a bed to sleep in that was made up, the living room was straight and we were busy unloading boxes in the kitchen, hunting for the elusive kettle. My mum though obviously mad with him and for good reason, never said a harsh word to him when he came in, simply suggested a chip dinner.
Sooty had been shut up in my bedroom as furniture had been unloaded, and had been forgotten about in the hustle and bustle of getting straight. Ryan before going out to get the food, walked around to see what had been achieved while he was away. Opening my bedroom door Sooty shot out like he had the Devil after him, flying straight out the open front door Ryan had left open when he had returned. “Danielle,” my mum screamed, “you were meant to be watching that cat. That’s it you have lost him now, you stupid girl.” Glaring up at her I really wanted to scream back at her and say, “well if your idle so-called boyfriend had done his job, instead of going to the pub then I would have been watching him, and not lugging up pieces of furniture five times and more my weight up a flight of stairs, so there.” But obviously I didn’t; I never answered my mum back, and anyway I could have been thrown out there and then, and then what would I have done, so as always I kept quiet.
That evening I was left alone in the new house, while my mum and Ryan went to the pub. I didn’t mind too much, the place was nice and they had set up the television and had promised not to be too long. It was a school night, and I did not fancy going to bed without my mum being there and in a strange house. Thankfully they were back early as promised.
“Danielle, we have a surprise for you,” my mum announced. Instantly I thought of Sooty. Oh yes they’ve got my cat back. “You are going to Italy with the school.”
Italy? This was first I had ever heard of a school trip, nevermind all the way to Italy. “How come? I don’t understand, Mum.”
She went on to explain that in the final year of primary school, the school always does a holiday somewhere abroad for the children that are moving on to new schools, and this year it was ten days in Italy in the school summer holidays. Ryan and her had paid for me to go.
That night I slept well in the new house; it had not sunk in about me going away with the school, maybe I did not want to get my hopes up, in case I was disappointed and never got to actually go, so I put the whole idea of going away out of my head. As soon as school broke up my mum had me down town buying bikinis, shorts, tee shirts etc. you name it she was buying it. The only thing she didn’t get was a suitcase as she said we already had one.She said it was big but she was sure I would manage. The night before going away mum dragged out the suitcase.To say it was big would be an understatement: it was as tall as me and bright green in colour. Laying it on the bed we placed in all my new holiday clothes. “Right Danielle, an early night for you, you’re up early in the morning to catch the coach.”
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Two coaches were outside the school filled with excited youngsters, and there wereparents waving their children off. That morning my mum had given me some Italian spending money – the recommended amount suggested by the school. I was so excited I could not believe this was actually happening. There was no one on the coach I recognised so had sat in the first available seat I had come across, next to a small girl with freckles who had her hair tightly plated; it turned out her name was Jenny.
Jenny was quiet, which was a blessing as the teachers had us singing songs and gave us puzzle charts to keep us entertained. The teachers explained to us that we were travelling down to London, then catching a train and then the ferry at Dover, and then another train before finally arriving at out destination in Italy. All our mums had packed us a pack lunch for the start of our journey, which some of the children were tucking into before the coach had even left the end of the street.
Approximately two hours into our journey the coach in front of us broke down, giving our teachers palpitations as they were on a tight schedule. Luckily it was just a punctured tyre, which between both coach drivers they soon managed to repair. The journey was going swimmingly we had made up our lost time and was pulling into the London St Pancaras train station only to be sent away by a man in uniform, who announced the train drivers had gone on str
ike and there was only a few trains still operating.
Unsure if our train was still running, or of its departure time as the station was in total chaos and the teachers were getting no information. It was decided that a teacher would stay at the station and inform us as soon as they got any information on our train. The others decided we would do a short tour of London, so guided by them we visited St James park luckily we weren’t there long before we were called back to the station to proceed our journey. This was the first time I had to move my suitcase, I had to carry it from the coach to the train, and then try and haul it onto the train itself with some effort I finally managed to drag it on.
The train pulled into our station and coaches were waiting for us, I managed to drag the case off the train and to the coach were the driver was putting everyone’s cases in the storage space. My case was easily three times the size of everyone else’s. “Looks like I’m going to need my muscles for this one. What you got in here. Your whole wardrobe?” he laughed. Blushing, I shook my head and quickly got on the coach.