Love That Lasts Forever

by Pat Barrow

  “Who is she, Dad? We’ve never heard of her?” Jonty and I were intrigued.

  “Well, you’ll soon see. She’s arriving later.”

  “What? Today?”

  “Yes, she’s driving up from Cardiff, that’s where she lives. She’s got a lovely house right down by the sea.”

  “Oh, you mean like –”

  “No, I don’t mean like your mum’s little shack. Amy lives in Cardiff and she’s got a luxury flat overlooking the harbour.”

  “Cor, Dad – that sounds fantastic,” said Jonty. “You mean she goes sailing and surfing and all the stuff like that?”

  “Well, I’m sure she does and she’ll probably invite you all to stay.”

  “Cor, that’d be great,” said Jonty.

  A bit of me was aghast. So, Jonty would happily go and visit this Amy, whoever she was, but he wouldn’t come and stay at Mum’s. I knew I shouldn’t be bitter and angry but I was.

  Amy arrived later that day. She was nothing like I expected. Although she was old, she was loads younger than Dad with long, glossy, brown hair and she wore really tight jeans and heels and her long nails were painted a gorgeous shade of green. She’d got the sort of makeup which looks professional with really big eyes and her silvery top made her look sort of glamorous. Nothing like Mum; she was always in jeans and a tee shirt or sweater with trainers and just looked comfy and casual and mum-like. Dad had described Amy as just a friend, but when she arrived, he gave her a big hug and a few minutes later when I went in the kitchen, there they were in this embrace and Dad’s hand was running up and down her back and they were kissing – proper kissing like on films. It was sort of uuurrggh horrible. I ran upstairs, I didn’t know what to make of it but I knew that Amy wasn’t just a friend; I wasn’t stupid of course Amy was Dad’s girlfriend. Amy was Mum’s replacement. Amy was the person who Dad wanted to be with and I was supposed to like her. Well I didn’t, I hated her. Dad did a barbeque that evening and if I’m honest, I’d have to admit that Amy tried her best to chat to me and Jonty. It sort of worked with Jonty; after all it was pretty easy to win him over when she talked about surfing and jumping the crashing waves on the beach, he was really impressed. I knew I was being rude when I hardly mumbled a word in response to her questions and sat there glaring, refusing to join in. I could see that Dad was annoyed with me but I couldn’t help it. I hated her.

  That night after Jonty and I had come up to bed, Dad came into my room. He stood there with his arms folded across this chest. “I’m really disappointed in you, Hetty. I thought you were a bit more grown up than that. I’ve got every right to move on in my life, you know that. My wife’s ditched me for someone else and Amy’s someone special. She understands me and it’s not a constant struggle to keep her happy like it was with your mum. She’s fun and she enjoys life.”

  “But I didn’t even know she existed, Dad,” I said in my defence, “it seems like she’s moved in and taken over.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, of course she hasn’t taken over. But yes, Amy and I want to spend a lot of time together so you’re just going to have to get used to her and stop being such a selfish little girl.” His words stung just as they were meant to. It was always the same with Dad, if you didn’t agree with him, he made you feel so uncomfortable and so unwanted so you just caved in.

  “But Dad, I was just scared of losing you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous and so dramatic, Hetty, of course you won’t lose me.” Briefly, his smile returned and he ran his fingers through my hair. “I know how much you love me. I know how hard it was going away last week and staying with your mum, you were really brave to do that but don’t worry you’re not going to have to go that often, you did it for her. I know all this silliness is because you feel so insecure having gone to your mum’s and no doubt you’ve been bombarded all week with her moans and groans. But don’t worry, I want to make it up to you. We’re going to have a really good time and Amy’s such good fun you’ll adore her and she loves doing all the sorts of exciting activities you like doing so come on, let’s dry those eyes.” I let Dad hug me and stroke my hair. I wanted to feel reassured, I wanted to feel loved, but I knew that Dad just didn’t have a clue about how I felt about Mum. He’d dismissed her, she was his ex and he expected me to do the same. Like he said, he’d moved on and that’s what he expected Jonty and me to do. I guess he felt he’d almost succeeded with Jonty and that it wouldn’t be long before I followed suit. After all, I was his puppet on a string.

  Amy stayed for several days and I tried hard to hate her, it felt disloyal to Mum unless I did. But, you know, I couldn’t help but like her. She was such good fun, a good laugh and Dad seemed so much more relaxed and happier when she was about. I tried to keep thoughts of Mum pushed out of my mind; it was easier that way – in fact, the only way.

  A letter from Mum arrived on the Friday. I saw it on the mat and went to pick it up but Dad got there first. “Whoa, my young lady, you know the rules.” And he snatched it up before I could. He hadn’t given it to me by that afternoon but instead broached the subject whilst Amy was there. “I’m concerned about the letter your mum has sent, Hetty. I think it might be a bit confusing for you and Jonty.”

  “What do you mean? What do you mean, Dad? Confusing? I want my letter. I want to know what Mum’s writing to me, please.”

  “Well, it seemed to have slipped your mind to tell me that she’s been asking you to go and live with her in Whitley Bay. That’s just not on, it’s totally out of order and I’m not having it. He banged his fist onto the table, the letter clutched between his fingers. No wonder you arrived back here in a state, all that pressure she’d heaped on you. Selfish bitch, as usual it’s all about her. No, I need to deal with this officially and nip it in the bud before she gets any other ideas.”

  “But Dad –”

  “No, no, no buts, I know how difficult she’s made it for you. You’re so brave, Hetty, but sadly not always very tough when your mum is playing victim. I’m going to make sure it doesn’t happen again. I’m not having you going up there if she’s going to put pressure on you like that. Trust her to do it when Jonty isn’t around. She knew Jonty would say something to me straightaway, but you’re always the softie, aren’t you?” Amy put her hand out to catch hold of mine; I pulled it away, I didn’t want her giving me a cuddle.

  “My Mum and Dad split up when I was about your age,” she persisted. “I know how hard it is but your dad’s right, it’s not fair if your mum’s putting a lot of pressure on you to go and stay there when it’s already been decided that you’re living here. Let your dad sort it out, Hetty.” I hated her – how dare she interfere? But of course, I said nothing in Mum’s defence. ‘Coward’ muttered my little voice. ‘You’re weak, a coward – as bad as your dad’. I tried to push the thoughts away, but I was scared.

  I didn’t quite know what Dad meant by ‘sort it out officially’ but I soon found out. The next evening, Dad told us he’d been to his solicitor who had immediately sent a letter to Mum reminding her in no uncertain terms of the details of the final court order and warning her not to pressure Jonty or me to make changes or there would be serious consequences. I guessed Mum would be so upset but worse was to come. Dad insisted that Jonty and I had to sit down and write a letter to Mum saying that we were very happy living in Forden and under no circumstances did we want to live in Whitley Bay. “But Dad –”

  “There’s no buts, Hetty, we need to nip this in the bud and stop it before it gets hold. As I say, I don’t want your mum upsetting you.” And so like the good little girl I wanted him to believe I was, I wrote the letter. I hated myself, I felt I’d let Mum down and myself. I just hoped that Mum would know that I didn’t hate her. Jonty’s letter was abrupt, just simply ‘I want to live with Dad, I want to live in Welshpool. Jonty’. Of course I wanted my letter to be much more gentle and I didn’t care that Jonty got the Brownie points. “Well done, old man, straight to the point, good for you. Come on, Hetty, just get
on with it.” What choice did I have? I convinced myself none – but the nagging voice ‘coward, traitor’ drummed into my head, as I wrote telling Mum that I needed to stay in Welshpool ’cos of school and my friends. I felt awful, but I did it.

  I guess that was the turning point, things were never going to be the same again and I think Mum probably realised that she was fighting a losing battle, she would always have an uphill struggle, everything she said or did would be deliberately misconstrued by Dad and used against her. I didn’t realise that at the time but I can see now that it wasn’t a case of her not being strong enough, it was that Dad was a bully who expected and demanded to be worshipped by everyone and if you pushed him off his perch, he’d simply crush you. That’s what he’d done to Mum and he’d do it to me too. Except that I needed him, I couldn’t survive without him, so I did as I was told. A bit of me admired Mum – she’d broken free; I couldn’t even bear to think about doing it myself.

  Chapter 34

  We spent the last week of the holiday down in Cardiff staying in Amy’s flat. I’d imagined it to be just a little bedsit, but it wasn’t, it was huge. She owned a nail studio in the city. It was clear that she and Dad were smitten with each other and they wanted to spend every weekend together. Of course, it meant that Amy planned to come up to stay with us because of our horse riding and Tae Kwon Do but she didn’t seem to mind, other people ran the studio when she wasn’t there. I would just have to get used to her always being there – a wedge between Dad and me and of course I resented her.

  Dad and Mum must have had words because Mum’s letters from then on just seemed flat and impersonal, full of news about places she’d been to but nothing about her or our relationship or future plans. She didn’t mention coming down again in September like she’d promised me. I was disappointed and it was hard writing back to her, it felt like she was slipping away, but oh I missed her so much. I’d sit looking at the photos of us together at Whitley Bay which she had sent to me reminding me of the fun times we’d had. That holiday had meant so much; little did I know then that there would never be another holiday like that.

  I had expected that we’d have half of the October half term holiday with Mum and I was really shocked when Dad said, “Do you remember when the judge made the court order, she said that one of us could have all of the October holiday and the other the February holiday? Well, your mum and I have agreed to swap so you’re spending all the October holiday with me so we can go to Cardiff again for a week.”

  “Great!” said Jonty. “That’ll be fantastic!”

  “But what about Mum?!” I screamed.

  “Oh come on, Hetty, don’t tell me you’d rather spend a freezing cold October in Whitley Bay rather than having a fantastic time in Cardiff again? Come on – there’s no contest!”

  “But I was looking forward to seeing Mum,” I mumbled.

  “Oh come on or you’re going to spoil it for all of us,” was Dad’s crushing remark.

  I knew I wasn’t going to get any sympathy from Dad. Why had Mum just agreed to swap like that? Little did I know that she hadn’t had any choice, Dad had simply told her that was going to happen and if she didn’t like it, she’d have to go back to court and of course she couldn’t do that, she couldn’t afford to. He had her over a barrel – absolutely stitched up.

  Yes, I’m almost ashamed to say that we did have an exciting time down in Cardiff. The weather was quite good and with wetsuits on, the sea still felt warm enough. We had learned a bit about surfing the first time we’d been down, so were much more confident this time and yes, it was good fun. But I had to keep pushing thoughts of Mum out of my mind, I had to stop myself daydreaming about her because if I did, I just felt so incredibly sad and then so desperately guilty. I didn’t dare mention her to Dad because it put him in such a bad mood if I did. Even Jonty didn’t want to talk about her, it was like she was gradually evaporating, disappearing and soon I feared she’d be gone.

  At the end of the week, Dad and Amy said that they’d got something really important to talk to us about and we were going to go out for a special meal and then they’d tell us. I think a bit of me guessed what they were going to say so it wasn’t really any great surprise when they told us that they loved each other and that they were going to move in together. But because Amy had got her studio, Dad was going to relocate, with us, down to Cardiff. “But, but…” I didn’t finish. One huge thought leapt into my mind – Mum. “But what about Mum? What does she say?” I blurted out to Dad. He immediately misunderstood my hesitation.

  “It’s okay, I’ve had an offer for my business and with my experience, I’ll be head hunted in no time. There are plenty of really good schools so you and Jonty can transfer without a problem, there’s so many more sporting opportunities; it’ll be great living by the sea. We’ll have a fantastic life together. After all you’ve been through, you deserve as much as I do to be happy and settled.”

  I looked at an atlas later on to see how far it was from Whitley Bay to Cardiff, it was 325 miles – however was I going to see my mum? How was I going to live without Suzie and the school that I depended on? Everything I’d always known was in Welshpool and Shrewsbury and now I was going to lose that as well as losing my mum. It felt like my whole world was disintegrating beneath my feet. A huge weight was crushing me, squashing me. I felt suffocated, I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to be a little girl again, a little girl without any worries, without any troubles, with a mum and dad who loved me and I could love them, both of them. I didn’t want all this bad stuff, all these difficult decisions I had to make. Except the reality was that they were always made for me by Dad so I never got a say, not really.

  My life just felt out of control, I was on a merry go round and whirring faster and faster and faster. I wanted to get off, I wanted to stop but I was rooted to the spot and couldn’t move.

  I never made a conscious decision to stop eating but I missed a couple of meals and the hunger pangs gave me this sense of freedom, a light headed, floaty sort of feeling and somehow I felt that I was in control of me. I guess looking back, I can see that was the start of a downward spiral which all too quickly took over control. I couldn’t stop it. All those feelings of power soon became a hopeless powerlessness. Depriving myself of food, feeling that deep gnawing hunger which I couldn’t allow myself to quell became all consuming, but at least it blotted out the pain of losing my mum and everything I’d ever known.

  Chapter 35

  We went home the next day and Mum’s letter was on the mat. Of course I was pleased that it had arrived but at the same time I was angry; angry with Dad for disrupting my life but angry with Mum too. Did she know that Dad was going to take us to Cardiff to live? If so, why hadn’t she done anything about it? I knew it wasn’t fair to blame her, but it was easier to direct my anger towards her rather than Dad. I wanted her, I needed her but I needed Dad more. I knew Dad would vet the letter and was panicking a bit when Sunday afternoon arrived before Dad gave it to me. “Well, it seems like she’s making an effort and coming down. Fancy that. She must have a free weekend, perhaps her boyfriend is busy. But let’s wait and see; she’s full of empty promises.”

  I grabbed the letter quickly and sure enough, Mum was coming to Welshpool next weekend. She was driving down early on Saturday and she had Monday off. She planned to pick us up after our Saturday activities and spend all of Sunday with us. She said she’d get Dad to agree for us to go out for a meal and come back later on Sunday evening. Did she really believe it would happen just like that? Or was it like Dad said just ‘empty promises’ designed to make us like her?

  My hunch proved right and Dad soon scotched any idea of co-operating. “Huh, let’s be clear about this, she fits around us. And that doesn’t mean expecting Jonty to go if he doesn’t want to. I’m not having him put under any pressure by her and of course there’s no question you’ll be back by five o’clock at the latest on Sunday, you’ve got school the next day. You need to be fresh for that and yo
u need to get your homework finished off. You know what a rush Sunday evenings are.”

  I knew it was a lame excuse but I didn’t know what to say. The best I could muster was, “But Dad, I’m not a baby, surely coming back for half past eight is okay. Just once!”

  “Huh, no Hetty, not on your life it would set a precedent. Give that mother of yours an inch and she’ll take a mile. That’s her, that’s how she operates. It’s always about her and what she wants and needs, she just expects us to drop everything to fit around her. Well for once, I’m standing firm and not being taken for a mug.”

  I knew how unfair Dad was being but I’m ashamed to say that I couldn’t even argue with him. A bit of me realised that was exactly how it had been for Mum and still was. She’d just got nothing left to fight with and that, she had no alternative but to accept whatever he said. And now, I was doing the same. I hated myself, I was rubbish, I was horrible – a really horrible person – I didn’t deserve to be happy, I’d caused so much misery.

  I guess missing meals just became part of my life because all that pain and sadness about Mum and Dad sort of melted away when instead I felt a gnawing empty ache in my stomach, a dizzy light headedness which somehow gave me a tiny glimpse of being in control. That’s what beating my hunger did for me. I curled up in bed holding my rumbling stomach and was overwhelmed by flashes of crispy fish and sizzling chips, of chocolate éclairs oozing with cream; food I’d always loved but now I denied myself. I felt a sense of power, of being in control and my pain melted away.

  A bit of me knew how dangerous the path I was treading was. I was losing weight fast but I just couldn’t stop depriving myself of food because that would let my demons loose and give them space to torment me until my head exploded. Of course, my weight loss didn’t go unnoticed. Meal times had always been haphazard since Mum left and more so since we moved back to Welshpool. In fact, we didn’t always sit down together to eat so it was very easy to miss a meal and then lie to Dad. But he soon commented, “You’ve lost weight, Hetty.”