Love That Lasts Forever

by Pat Barrow

  I picked my time carefully, when Jonty wanted me to help him find out about pirates for his school project. I even offered to lend him my best colouring pencils. Then, “Jonty, you know Dad’s right, you really shouldn’t see Mum, she’s bad, he’s trying to protect us. You shouldn’t go, it’s just not safe.” He looked at me open mouthed. At first he resisted, then as I put my arms around him, he began to see that I was right.

  He still protested though, “But when I’m with her, she’s really nice.”

  “Yes, but that’s not what she’ll stay like, you’ve forgotten how horrible she was, it’s not safe, Jonty.”

  Later in the week, I told Dad that I didn’t think Jonty wanted to see Mum but was only going because he thought he had to and why didn’t he arrange something good for both of us to do on Saturday – like a trip to the ice rink? Sure enough next Saturday, Dad, Aunty Nicky, me and Jonty all went off to the ice rink in Telford. I guess that Dad must have told Mum that neither of us would be coming to the contact centre. I never did see Mum’s letter to me – maybe if I had, it would have been too difficult to let her go.

  It was that week when another letter with a solicitor’s frank across the top arrived for Dad. Again, he made light of it, reading it before folding it up and shoving it in his pocket, but I’d noticed, I’d seen it and I’d seen the angry look on his face. His silence confirmed just how furious he was. That evening, he told us that Jonty and I would have to talk to someone about how we felt about Mum. He reassured us that we didn’t need to be scared and we could just tell the truth and say that we didn’t like her and we didn’t want to go any more; nobody would try to make us. “I don’t want to talk to anyone,” I protested. “It’s not fair, I don’t want to see Mum, but I don’t want to talk to anybody about it. Just tell them to go away.”

  I thought it had gone away but a few weeks later, it was Aunty Nicky who told me that Mr Richards was coming to see Jonty and me and to talk to us both. “I don’t know what to say!” I screamed. “Can’t you just tell him to go away and tell him I don’t want to see Mum?” It was Wednesday breakfast time when Dad told us that we would have to miss our clubs after school that night because Mr Richards from CAFCASS was visiting. “I can’t miss choir,” I protested. Jonty had started going to chess club and he didn’t want to miss that either. Our protests fell on deaf ears.

  Dad reassured us that nobody was going to make us see Mum, and it was quite simple, we had to tell Mr Richards how we felt and that we didn’t want to see her any more. “Can’t you see no one will believe me? It has to be you two saying how scared you are. Surely, you can do that for me – it’s not too much to ask. I thought you loved me.”

  If it was that easy, why did all those horrible feelings surface again? I couldn’t concentrate at school during the day and then I fell out with everybody during break time. Jonty and I held hands in the back of Aunty Nicky’s car on the way home. We both dashed off upstairs as soon as we got in. Dad was nowhere to be seen which was unusual. I wanted his support, but where was he? At 4.15, sure enough there was a knock at the door and Aunty Nicky greeted Mr Richards. Jonty came in to my room and we both crawled under the bed and waited to hear Aunty Nicky calling us to come down. Eventually, I heard her footsteps coming up the stairs, of course she found us within seconds. She wasn’t cross and seemed to really understand how difficult it was and how we didn’t want to talk to anybody. She said she would stay with us whilst we talked to Mr Richards. With that, we meekly followed her down the stairs.

  Mr Richards was old, well at least as old as my dad. He had sort of sandy coloured hair and a nice smile. He looked friendly and talked to us about school; what we liked to do, where we liked to go and all about our friends. I breathed a sigh of relief, well that’s okay then. But then, everything changed when he mentioned Mum and how she was looking forward to seeing us at the Contact Centre and hoped we would go again on Saturday. He reminded us that the volunteers there would make sure we were happy and quite safe. Jonty burst into tears and I just clammed up. I remember that I just couldn’t speak, I kept shaking my head. Aunty Nicky explained for us, “They’ve got such bad memories, it upsets them both so much; they’re so much better when they don’t see her. Isn’t that right?” she asked us. Mr Richards, or Clive as he urged us to call him, tried to encourage us to speak for ourselves. Jonty couldn’t stop crying and all I could do was to nod in affirmation to what Aunty Nicky said. He didn’t stay much longer. He and Aunty Nicky were talking in hushed voices in the hall but I heard him saying that he would come back on another day and maybe we would be willing to talk to him then.

  Dad made bedtime routine extra special that night. We got two chapters from an old favourite Horrid Henry book. Then as he tucked me up, he sat on my bed, held my hand and stroked my fingers. “I know it’s difficult my darling, I know how painful it is, I’m really proud of you. We need Mr Richards to understand just how bad it was with Mum. It’s so hard for you I’ll have a chat to him and I’ll explain just how scary it was and he’ll see that there really isn’t much point in coming to see you again.” I didn’t protest, I didn’t argue, I just felt really safe and secure and so pleased that my dad was proud of me. I couldn’t let him down, not now.

  Dad explained that he had talked to Mr Richards. He was annoyed that Mr Richards had been in touch with my school but relieved that the teachers there had explained that it had been really difficult for Jonty and me. Dad had told Mr Richards that he was so worried that if we started being forced to see Mum again that it would bring back my nightmares and upset nights that we had both had experienced. I remember Dad explaining to me how he and Mum were talking to a judge at the Family Court and that Mr Richards would help to explain to the judge that it was better for us not to see Mum and then hopefully, she would understand and stop pestering us.

  In spite of Dad’s reassurance, Mr Richards did come to see us again but although he suggested that Aunty Nicky left us and went into the kitchen, I grabbed her hand and pleaded to let her stay. Mr Richards wanted to reassure us that boys and girls coming to terms with their parents’ separation usually felt differently after life had settled down and when that time came, Dad would ensure that arrangements were put in place for us to start seeing Mum again. In the meantime, Mum would hear how we were getting on by getting our school reports and she would be sending us a letter in the post each week. It was hoped, well expected, that Jonty and I would write back to her. I felt so relieved and so nodded my head in agreement and at the same time wondering if Dad would mind if I wrote. I guessed he might but maybe I could ask him just in case letters were okay.

  When Mr Richards had gone, Dad told us that he and Mum would be going to court the following week and hopefully, the judge would agree with what Mr Richards was recommending. Dad sounded happy again. Good old Dad, it was great when he was his usual jovial self. I was so pleased, I’d made him proud and happy and I just wanted him to stay that way.

  Chapter 5

  Bonfire Night loomed. We had always gone with Mum and Dad to the big family event at the West Midlands Showground on the other side of Shrewsbury to watch the huge firework display and the massive bonfire with the guy on top. It would mean hot dogs and jacket potatoes oozing with cheese. “Of course we’re going to the ‘West Mid’s Showground’ – we always do,” Dad said.

  “Can Suzie and Jenny come too?” I asked Dad and was delighted when he said yes, he would arrange it with their mums, we could all meet up at the showground car park. It was a short walk from there. It was a super evening. The fireworks were spectacular and I gazed in awe at the amazing colours shooting across the sky. Dad bought us all hot dogs and all too soon, we were walking back to the car park. I walked on ahead with Suzie and Jenny when all of a sudden, we saw her. It was Mum. I froze. She was walking straight towards me. I grabbed Suzie’s arm. “Don’t let her see me, please, please.” And yet a bit of me wanted to see her. I wanted her arms around me, I wanted her, I wanted her so much.


  Then Dad was there, his big, strong arms engulfed me and I heard him saying, “Just go, just go, don’t cause any trouble, just go. Nobody wants you here.”

  Mum just vanished into the night. I didn’t say anything on the way home. I ran upstairs when we got in, I was just so upset and of course that reinforced Dad’s belief about just how much I hated Mum. How could he know how confused I was? I did hate her but I’d got opposing feelings too, feelings which were so big I just couldn’t explain them. I tried to make sense of those whirring emotions churning in my stomach, a mishmash of feelings which were tearing me to pieces. As I lay sobbing, the realisation that it was all my fault slowly dawned on me. I must be such a horrible person to cause so much trouble for my lovely family, to make my dad so unhappy. What could I do? I’d try anything to put it right for my dad, anything, but exhausted I fell into a deep, troubled sleep.

  For the next week or two, there were lots of whispered conversations between Dad and Aunty Nicky. I caught snatches of them, but it was clear that I wasn’t meant to hear. And indeed Dad just didn’t mention Mum to us so of course Jonty and I didn’t bring her up either. In the build up to the end of term and Christmas, I was able to push thoughts of Mum aside, and the fact that Dad and Aunty Nicky were especially attentive clearly helped. Jonty and I were excited when Dad explained the plans for us to spend Christmas in the Cotswolds with his younger brother, Uncle Paul, and Aunty Zoe and their ten-year-old twins, Jess and Danni. Aunty Nicky and Uncle Colin would be there too and of course, there would be no chance of us bumping in to Mum.

  Chapter 6

  The school carol concert was always something which I really enjoyed. I was in the choir so of course I had a special place. I had been persuaded by Mr Douglas the music teacher to sing the first verse of Once in Royal David’s City on my own. It was a pretty nerve-wracking ordeal in front of all those people, but I managed fine during the afternoon performance in front of the rest of the school. Then it was the evening performance and I remember eagerly scanning the audience for Dad and Aunty Nicky and returning their smiles. Then the lights went down and the concert began. My solo was the last item before the interval. I listened to the opening bars, tensed up and froze. There sitting on the third row from the back was Mum. It was like everybody around her just melted away, all I could see was my mum, she smiled that lovely smile especially for me. I opened my mouth but no words came out. There was silence. Realising the situation, the choir rescued me and started the first verse. I doubt anybody in the audience was really aware of what had happened, but I was. The curtains closed on the last lines of the carol. My friends turned to me and immediately, “What happened? What went wrong? What’s up with you?” I couldn’t speak. I just couldn’t. I ran sobbing and there was my dad. I was engulfed in his arms. Those big, strong arms. Then he saw her and realised what had happened.

  “It was just like her to come and spoil everything for you, she only thinks about herself, never about you.” He must have had a word with Mr Douglas, the music teacher, because nothing more was said to me the incident just simply vanished.

  Everybody enjoyed the rest of the concert, but I didn’t. I just wanted to go home and push it all out of my mind and forget about it. The rest of the term was a sort of blur, I didn’t really engage with my friends any more. It was only when school was done that Jonty and I could start to get really excited about our Christmas plans – a Christmas far away with no reminder of the mum who so often dominated my thoughts and overwhelmed me with such sadness and longing that I thought I’d burst open.

  Whether or not Mum sent anything for me and Jonty for Christmas or wrote any of the promised weekly letters, I just don’t know. Certainly, Dad never told us and, well I’m ashamed to say I didn’t ask. At the time, it was another opportunity to reinforce my view that she really didn’t care about me and I guess that helped me to not want her quite as much, although so much of me did. I just couldn’t afford to let those thoughts in.

  I went back to school in January full of determination that things were going to be different. I was going to be the old me again, enthusiastic about everything and have lots of friends. I was not sure how I thought I was going to achieve that but that was certainly the plan. I didn’t realise that Dad had been to court again. He told Jonty and me that he needed to talk to us both. I thought at first it was because we were going to have a special holiday, perhaps we were going to go to Disneyworld, I don’t know, but I wasn’t prepared for what he did tell us. “It’s your mum, she won’t give up. She can’t see how much damage she’s doing to you. This other woman has to come and talk to you both. I guess you’re going to just have to convince her that you really, really don’t want to see your mum. It’s entirely up to you two, I can’t convince her, only you can.”

  Jonty did his usual thing and burst into tears. I just felt this anger welling up inside me. I shouted and screamed, “I don’t want to see her, can’t you understand, I don’t want to, I don’t need to see any woman and tell her that! Dad, why can’t you tell her?!” Dad alternated between being really kind and gentle, holding me and stroking me and getting quite cross. I got even more confused.

  A couple of days later, a letter arrived addressed to me and Jonty. ‘Dear Hetty and Jonty. My name is Carol. As you know, your mum and dad have been finding it difficult to talk to each other about you and they have been to the local family court for some help. The judge there has decided that it would be a good idea for you to talk to somebody not really connected with Mum and Dad and so I am coming to see you. I look forward to meeting you both after school on Wednesday. Regards, Carol’. “That’s only the day after tomorrow!” I screamed. “Can’t you say I’m busy that I can’t be there, that I can’t see her?”

  “I guess she’ll be really nice. Just tell her, tell her how it is for you,” said Dad. “Help her to understand how scared you’ve been and that you just don’t want to see your mum.” Jonty didn’t seem to be particularly bothered, I don’t think he had any idea.

  Wednesday dawned and somehow, I got through the day, twice I got told off in class for not paying attention and my classmates told me I was in a mood. But I did confide in Suzie. As always, she was so wise and understanding. “If I was you, I’d keep an open mind, just talk to her, tell her how you feel and she may be able to help you to work it all out. Just trust her.” That sounded easy but I wasn’t so sure.

  Chapter 7

  Carol had this really big, warm smile and I instantly felt surprisingly comfortable with her. She explained she wanted to get to know me and Jonty, to spend time with both of us on our own. She was emphatic that she wasn’t there to try and force us to do anything that we felt really uncomfortable with but to help us to unravel some of the confusion that was going on inside our heads. But first of all, she just wanted us to relax and so we sat and chatted about the holidays and Christmas fun with our cousins – all pretty safe and not scary at all. Then she suggested that perhaps she could spend a little while chatting to each of us individually.

  Whilst she and Jonty were talking, Dad came and gave me a big squeeze and a hug. “Don’t worry, my love,” he said, “I know I can rely on you to say how it really is, not to pretend it’s better than it is; just tell her the truth, how badly it’s affected you and how upset you’ve been.” Of course, I can see now what he really meant was ‘don’t rock the boat – don’t forget your loyalty is with me’.

  Carol seemed to be genuinely interested in hearing about school and about my friends, what I liked doing, how far I could swim, which books I liked best. I just felt so relaxed and comfortable with her. I heaved a sigh of relief and willingly agreed to see her the following week. She suggested that if Dad and Aunty Nicky didn’t mind, she could pick me up from school, we could have a milk shake at McDonald’s before coming home. She arranged to see Jonty on a different day saying it was important that we were both made to feel special and weren’t just lumped together as ‘the children’. She seemed to respect that we might have di
fferent ideas and views about things. I think in those early days that Dad liked her and indeed, he jumped at the idea of me meeting her after school. He was so sure that I wouldn’t let him down – I was his – a helpless fly in his spider’s web – sticky and cloying, impossible to break free.

  The following Wednesday, I felt a bit panicky in case my friends saw Carol arrive. Suzie once again came to my rescue and suggested I simply said it was a friend of the family. She assured me that nobody would be really interested. She wouldn’t be coming in to school to see me, but would be waiting with everybody else outside. Of course it was fine, just as Suzie said my fears had been unfounded.

  Carol and I chatted in McDonald’s. As I slurped my milk shake, I felt this enormous sense of relief, I can’t explain why or how, but I felt different, more relaxed. I guess this explains why I suddenly heard myself telling Carol that I wanted to see my mum but at the same time I didn’t, and how muddled up that was and how difficult and that nobody understood and that I didn’t want to hurt my dad and that my dad was right and my mum, well she must be bad because Dad says she was and I remembered all those bad things she’d done when we lived there. It all just came rushing out and Carol just sat there and patiently listened. Then she put her hand on mine and said, “Sometimes people change. Sometimes we have to see for ourselves whether they have changed. Sometimes our memory isn’t quite accurate and we get muddled. I wonder if it might help if you saw your mum and then you could make your own mind up about her, because I guess at the moment what you’re doing is just remembering bits of what happened in the past and how your dad’s feeling about her now. I guess there’s lots of stuff between Mum and Dad that you don’t even know about which hasn’t been resolved and that’s all getting in the way.” She explained that she could come with me and we could see Mum together. It didn’t have to be at home, it could be anywhere I would feel comfortable. If during the meeting I wanted to leave, then I could. It sounded so simple. But how could I tell Dad that? He just wouldn’t believe it and I’d feel such a traitor, a traitor to Dad. Dad, the one who had looked after me, kept me safe. Carol suggested we told him together. “You’d really help me tell him?” I couldn’t believe it.