by Pat Barrow
Chapter 20
Things changed dramatically over the next few weeks. Mum was excited to be in a property she could feel settled in but it was the other side of town so it meant further to go to school and to our other activities. It was clear that Jonty wasn’t impressed.
He started moaning about staying over on the Wednesday and Thursday which Dad had begrudgingly reinstated. Mum was clearly disappointed. “I thought you liked staying over,” she said, “now that you’ve got your own bedroom and we have time together. It’s so busy at the weekends.” But Jonty had become sullen and miserable.
“I don’t want to stay,” he said but he wouldn’t talk about it.
It was the following week and I unexpectedly saw Dad in school. It was a Monday – what was he doing there? I looked quizzically at him. “I’ve come about Jonty,” he said. “I’ll see you at home.” And that was it. Well, it all came out later, Jonty had apparently kicked another boy and bruised his shin and then sworn at him. It seemed as though the attack had been totally unprovoked. I heard Jonty crying that night and Dad talking to him. The next day, Dad broached the subject with me. “What’s this about Jonty saying that Mum’s shouting at him and being unkind?”
“What!” I said looking amazed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dad.”
“Well, Jonty reckons that it’s been really difficult the last few weeks and that Mum has been particularly nasty to him and that he is actually scared of going.”
“Scared? That’s ridiculous”
“Well, Jonty’s certainly upset about something; it’s not like him to go hurting people at school, is it? I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”
I guess he and Mum talked but whatever they said didn’t make it any better. In fact, it made it worse. Jonty became downright rude to Mum and when he was there the next weekend, every time she asked him to do something or to go somewhere, he’d turn around and say, “I don’t have to, I don’t have to even come if I don’t want to, Dad says.” What had happened to my lovely brother? I hated him, why was he being so horrible? Mum just looked so upset, she hadn’t lost her temper or done anything but she was clearly bewildered and it was hard for her to fight back her tears.
Things changed at home with Dad too. I couldn’t help noticing how close Dad and Jonty had become. Jonty had always been somewhat separate from everybody else and it had always been Dad and me. I’d been his ‘little princess’ but suddenly, I felt like I was being pushed out. I tried not to be jealous, but to be honest I was. There were these odd remarks like: “How’s my mummy’s girl then?” It hurt, I’d see Jonty cuddled up to Dad in fact it became that he wouldn’t let Dad go out of his sight. He started saying that he didn’t want to go to Mum’s and stay overnight at all. He didn’t mind going sometimes in the day but he’d really rather that Dad took him to Tae Kwan Doe because it was more Dad’s sport than Mum’s. And he didn’t want to come to watch horse riding because it was boring. He just seemed to constantly find reasons why it was better for him to be at home with Dad. I expected Dad to challenge him and encourage him to go to Mum’s but he didn’t, he seemed to just lap it all up. A little smile would appear on Dad’s face, hardly there, but I’d notice. Whenever Jonty criticised Mum, Dad said, “Tell me about that, Jonty, I can see how upset you are.” And of course Jonty just revelled in that attention. His descriptions of how awful Mum was became more and more graphic and fanciful. I couldn’t make it out. A bit of me wanted to just be with Mum but I couldn’t face the thought of losing Dad. I would do whatever it took to keep Dad, I knew I would. Dad was my idol, Dad was always there for me, Dad was always right, I couldn’t lose that and if it meant that I had to be more critical of Mum then, horrible as it was, that was what I would force myself to do.
On Wednesdays, Jonty would often come and find me at school and tell me that he had decided that he didn’t want to come to Mum’s that night after school and would I tell her. “No,” I’d say. “You tell her yourself.”
And so when Mum came to collect us, he’d mumble something like, “I don’t really want to come, I don’t care,” and then storm off. Of course Mum got upset and didn’t really know what to do but in the end, she’d have to ring Dad and ask him to come and collect Jonty. Dad clearly wasn’t impressed with that.
Sometimes Jonty would do the same again on a Thursday and it got that over the next few weeks, he rarely came at all in the week but Mum still tried every time. She’d meet him after school and she’d talk to him but he’d shake his head and say ‘no’. She was just at a loss to know what had happened, why had he changed? I tried to talk to Jonty to try to make sense of what he was saying about Mum. “Why are you saying those lies about her? It’s just not true Jonty, she’s not horrible to either of us, she’s lovely. So why do you keep telling Dad she’s horrid? He just believes everything you say and that’s not fair on Mum.”
“I don’t think it’s fair on me at all,” said Jonty. “I tell you, Hetty, when your mum and dad split up like ours, you can’t have both of them, you have to choose one or the other and it’s easier for me to have my dad. So that’s it. I can’t do it anymore.”
I could see he was upset but I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t talk to Dad about it because he seemed to be on Jonty’s side, perhaps that was what Dad wanted, for us both to choose him and for us just not to bother with Mum. I talked to Suzie at school, she listened and then said, “Well, I reckon that you’re going to have to talk to your dad and tell him that you don’t want to have to choose between him and your mum, that you want both of them.”
“But I don’t want to lose him Suzie, I don’t want him to think that I don’t want him.”
“Your mum loves you too, you know. I guess you don’t want to dump her either.” Suzie always spoke the truth. She seemed to understand and she made it all so clear. Of course, I wanted both of them. But it was easy for her, she had a normal mum and dad, I knew that my dad was different and that I had to totally agree with him or I knew he wouldn’t want me.
I don’t know whether Dad thought that Mum would just roll over and accept that Jonty didn’t want to come any more but that’s not like Mum, she loved us both to bits, she’d do anything for us and she wasn’t going to let Jonty just disappear like that. Every time I went and he didn’t, she’d give me a note to take home to Jonty and sometimes a comic or a magazine or a bag of sweets – just some little thing to let him know that she was still there. He’d snatch the note from me and take it upstairs. I must admit that I sneaked into his room one day and it didn’t take me long to find the note that Mum had sent a couple of days earlier. It was screwed up and in the bin. I read it, it was bright and cheerful. ‘I miss you, little chap, it will be good to see you soon. I’m sending you some pictures of Man United, they did well in the last match, didn’t they? Love you – Mum’. And then there was a picture of a smiley face. Why had he screwed it up and thrown it away? It didn’t make sense. I smoothed it out and took it back with me, maybe one day he would want it.
The next time that I handed him a note, Dad was there and he turned to Dad and shook his head. “She writes horrible notes to me Dad, I just don’t want to read them anymore. I get all upset.”
“What!”
“Now now, don’t get all upset, I’ll take that.” Dad snatched the note from me.
“But Dad…” I could hardly say that the notes were nice because nobody knew that I’d actually read one.
Later Dad had a chat to me. “You know I’m really worried about Jonty. He’s clearly seen a side of Mum that she’s perhaps hiding from you. A leopard doesn’t change its spots you know, you know how unpredictable she was when we were living there. My fear is that that’s going to be how she’ll be with you soon. We’ll just have to be really, really careful and if Jonty doesn’t want to go, then I’m not going to force him. Poor Jonty, I think he’s just beginning to show how difficult it all was for him.”
“But Dad…”
“Yes, I know it
’s hard for you as well, my love.”
“But Dad…”
“Yes, I know. You don’t need to explain. I understand completely. You are trying your best, aren’t you? Giving Mum another chance. But it might be a losing battle you know.” I looked at him wide eyed but the words just wouldn’t come. I couldn’t say anything because, because… I buried my head in his shoulder and sobbed. Of course, he took that as me being relieved that he understood how difficult it was for me to see Mum, he’d got completely the wrong end of the stick; it wasn’t like that at all, I was so scared of losing him. It was all so very muddled up, such a mess.
Chapter 21
When we’d been living with Aunty Nicky, she had sometimes realised there was something up and she’d come and put her arm around me and I could talk to her, but now it seemed like I’d got nobody. There was this barrier that was coming between Dad and me, a big solid wall that I couldn’t break through. I could feel this anger welling up inside me and I didn’t know what to do with it. Then one night, I heard Jonty in his room, he was making quite a noise and I went in and asked him what on earth he was doing and he snapped back, “Oh shut up!” I screamed at him, “you stupid little boy!” He shouted something back and I don’t know how it happened, I didn’t intend to but I picked up a small metal car that was lying on the bed and threw it at him. It struck him just below the eye and almost immediately, blood was streaming down his face. I screamed and so did he. Dad came running up the stairs.
“Whatever’s going on with you kids? Hetty, what have you done?”
“It’s Hetty, it’s Hetty, she hurt me!” yelled Jonty.
“Get out the way,” said Dad and pushed me aside, as he swept Jonty up in his arms. He rushed to the bathroom and tried to stop the bleeding but it kept going. “I’m going to have to take you to A&E old chap,” he said. “You’ll need a stitch or two in that. Come on, Hetty, get your shoes and get Jonty’s as well and your coats.”
And so we ended up in A&E. Dad was quite cold towards me but he was all over Jonty hugging him and cuddling him. I looked on in amazement, I didn’t know what to say. “I’m so, so sorry Jonty,” I kept saying to him.
“And so you should be,” said Dad. “What do you mean behaving like that?” It wasn’t like Dad to go on at me. I suddenly felt awful. How could I possibly doubt my dad and then I knew it was Dad and Jonty that I wanted more than anything. They were my world. I couldn’t bear to lose them. I knew then that I’d do anything. I’d sell my soul for my dad even if that meant betraying my mum.
And so that night when eventually we got to bed and Dad came up, I put my arms out. “Dad, Dad, there’s something I need to tell you,” I whispered. It was like this other bit of me was coming out, I could hear the words but in my head, another little voice was saying, “That’s not true, that’s not true, Hetty, why are you doing this? Your mum loves you.” But there I was saying, “Dad, Jonty’s right, you know Mum hasn’t been herself recently she is quite nasty to both of us but particularly to Jonty. I can see now why he gets upset.” A bit of me was horrified that I was saying those things. I fought back the tears, I knew really they were tears for my mum but I let Dad believe that they were tears for him. Then I’d be his little princess again; Dad, Jonty and me, I couldn’t bear to be separate. I couldn’t bear to lose him.
“That’s so brave of you, Hetty, I know you’ve tried to be loyal to Mum but as I’ve kept saying to you, you don’t need to protect her, she’s the grown-up and she’s the one who keeps on getting it wrong. Why do you think I took you away with me? It was because we couldn’t trust her any more. You’ve given her so many chances. We’ll sit down tomorrow and have a bit of a think and work out what’s best. Of course, I want you to see her but we need to do it in a way that’s safe and right for you and doesn’t upset you anymore. Now you be especially nice to your brother, he’s probably going to have a bit of a scar under his eye but I guess that’ll just add character to his handsome little face so don’t you worry about it. I know it was an accident and I know it wasn’t your fault. You’ve had an awful lot to put up with lately and I promise you that you and Jonty aren’t going to carry on suffering like this. Sometimes you know courts and social workers, they don’t get things right, they make it worse, the main thing is that we stick together, okay?”
When he left me to go downstairs, I stared into the darkness my eyes filling with tears, I buried my head under the covers and I sobbed. Why, why, why was it like this? It was all so crazily muddled up and I’d just made it worse. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know how to manage it. Jonty was perhaps right when he said you have to choose, you can’t have both. I didn’t believe him when he first said it but now I reckon it was true. I tried to bat away the thoughts of Mum being sad, of being in her little house without us. I eventually fell asleep.
The next day was Saturday and of course with me busy with horse riding and then Jonty with his Tae Kwon Do, it was Saturday evening before we could have a chat. Dad suggested we got fish and chips as a rare treat and we sat around the lounge eating out of the wrapping, with fingers greasy from the yummy chips, savouring the crunchy battered fish. Dad got us a bottle of fizzy pop as well so by the time we’d finished all that, we were in high spirits.
“I think we need a plan of action,” Dad said. I tried not to think about the night before but of course, it wasn’t going to go away. Dad explained to Jonty that it was okay because I had told him that it was like he had described and Mum wasn’t being fair to either of us. He again stressed how much he wanted us to spend some time with her and suggested that we perhaps had the occasional Sunday when we could go out for the day somewhere and maybe to go for tea one night a week. He explained that of course he would have to get Mum to agree otherwise it would mean going back to court, but with Jonty and me both saying how difficult it was going to see her and just how she’d been with us both, that that wouldn’t be any problem. He’d soon get the court to understand how it really was for us and that she had been pulling the wool over the court’s eyes and that social worker for too long. He made it sound all so easy, it was all Mum’s fault and Mum was getting what she deserved. We needed to be rescued and he was the one who would do it. Of course, I knew that it wasn’t fair and how cruel I was being but I wouldn’t let myself have those thoughts. Dad had his arm around me and was giving me a cuddle with Jonty on the other side. “You two are the best things in the world,” he said, “I’d do anything for you pair, you’re smashing kids, I’m not going to have you hurt by anybody.” Of course, my dad was right.
Chapter 22
True to his word, Dad must have spoken to Mum the following day. I was dreading Wednesday when we would be going around for tea after school. When Jonty came to me and said he wouldn’t be coming, I said that wasn’t on, he’d got to come. Mum would want to know why we’d changed our minds about staying with her. It wasn’t fair to leave me on my own to tell her. Begrudgingly, he agreed to come.
There was a sort of damper on our spirits when we met Mum. Usually, I was jumping around the car all excited to see her but that day, we were subdued and she was too. She tried her best to be breezy and normal when we got back to the house, but there was this silence and awkwardness between us and in the end she said, “Why don’t we all go and sit down and have a chat?” And so we did. “I just can’t understand,” she said. “Perhaps you can tell me what’s gone wrong? I thought you loved coming here. I thought we had really good times together. Please don’t tell me that I’ve got it all wrong.” She looked so sad, so lost. I just wanted to hug her. I ran to her and put my arms around her.
“Oh Mum, we’re not going to not see you, it’s just that it gets, well, really complicated with school and stuff and…” My voice just tapered off. I didn’t really have an excuse and my words sounded so empty and hollow, she knew I wasn’t telling the truth. Jonty just sat there crying. He seemed to either have to do that or else he got angry. I can see now that he just didn’t have the words to say
how he felt.
“Oh well, your dad’s coming for you at half past seven tonight, but Dad and I will have to do some more talking otherwise I won’t have any choice, I’ll have to go back to court and I don’t want to do that,” she said.
Of course, there wasn’t another opportunity for me to talk to Mum and I gave her a hug and squeezed her hand as Dad pulled up at half past seven. Jonty just seemed anxious to get out of the door. Mum looked so sad, so alone as I turned and waved goodbye to her.
The new arrangement, apparently, was that we would go to Mum’s on each alternate Saturday evening and stay overnight and the following day, Dad would collect us at 4 pm. Then I would go for tea on my own on Wednesday ’cos it was really clear that would be too much for Jonty. Jonty was cross. “I thought you said that I didn’t have to stay overnight and now you’re saying I’ve got to go on Saturday nights.”
“No, every other Saturday,” said Dad. “And it’s after you’ve enjoyed the activities you want. It’s not going to be until about eight o’clock and then I’ll collect you back at four o’clock on Sunday.”
“I suppose so,” said Jonty. “But if I don’t want to go, I’m not going and if I don’t like it, I’ll ring you and you have to promise you’ll fetch me home.”
“Yes, of course. I know it’s really hard but if we don’t go along with Mum a bit, then she’s just going to take it back to court and we don’t want to have to go through all that again. Talking to Carol and her twisting everything around. Just trust me; I’ll make sure that it’s okay for you. I promise you.”
Of course I trusted my dad, he was always the big strong dad that I loved so much. When we went on Saturday, Mum looked awful, like she’d been crying for days. She seemed flat and sad although she made a huge effort to be really cheerful when we got there. There wasn’t really much of the evening left. Jonty said he was tired and wanted to go to bed about nine o’clock. I stayed up for a while longer, although I was worried that Mum would want to talk and I didn’t know how I was going to handle that. Of course, we did talk. “But Hetty, I don’t understand why you had to agree with Jonty? I don’t understand why you said I’d been horrible. When have I been horrible? When have I been horrible to either of you? It just doesn’t make sense, I can’t understand it.”
