Hurry up train! I tapped my foot with impatience and looked around the crowd nervously. What if I’m found before the train leaves? I edged my way forward through the mob to the white line on the platform. I don’t remember being this nervous before, not for anything really. The fact that I had paid for my ticket should have reassured me. What if something goes wrong? I could be stuck in that kid’s home until I’m 18.
Chapter 20
The train pulled into the station at last. I boarded the nearest steps pushing my way through the carriages until I found a spare seat. I put my stuff on the overhead shelf and sat down, still nervous. I looked around and out of the window, checking to be sure there was no one I knew from the children’s home. There were some girls in the seats immediately in front of me, all giggly, apparently out on a hen night. They were all dressed new wave, Gary Numan or Ultravox style. To my left was an elderly gentleman with a young girl who looked like his daughter and in front of him were two lads. They appeared to be army boys as they had no hair, just short back and side haircuts, a total giveaway really. They made eye contact and then turned to each other whispering. They started giggling acting like kids. I must have been in a great mood, so excited about meeting Dave. Any other time I would’ve given them a mouthful just for looking at me. I had beaten up girls for less, and they wouldn’t be the first guys I had smacked down a peg or two.
The motion of the train sent me off into another daydream. I stared out of the window, now at the night sky, looking at lights in the distance, house lights and street lights all being left behind. Feeling the motion of the train, the budum budum budum on the tracks was enough to send anyone to sleep. I pictured Dave being at the station waiting for me and taking me round to his friend’s house. We had planned to be staying there for a few days until we got a place sorted.
It felt like an eternity on the train, although it probably was just about two hours in reality. I had to change trains in London and was then on a further train for another two hours. My hands felt all clammy as the train approached the station in Leicester. I checked that I had my purse and all my belongings and then made my way to the partition section by the door. I was so excited, I wanted to be the first off of the train. I needed to see my Dave.
I walked through the station, following the crowd of people towards the exit just like a sheep. The station was massive. I began to worry I would never find him there. I took some solace though from knowing that no one from the home would find me. I made my way to the station entrance, the collection and drop off point. He was more likely to be there than anywhere I figured. I looked around but Dave was nowhere to be seen. I paced up and down staring at stranger’s faces. Do I know any of them? Had he sent a friend to collect me? I watched people greet loved ones and get into taxi’s and cars, one after another pulling up to where I stood. The station was a beehive of activity. As time went on the station got quieter and quieter and still no Dave. I wonder what happened? He better have a bloody good excuse.
I searched through my bags to find his friend’s telephone number. I had kept it from ages ago. Dave used to stay there and I had rung him from the children’s home telephone on several occasions. I walked over to the red pillar box telephone and dialled the number. It rang and rang forever before I hung up, and then I started to worry. Maybe he’s on his way? Maybe he got stuck in traffic? Who knows? I had all sorts of reasons running through my tiny mind. I stayed at the station for two more hours before I gave up and started making my way into the town centre. I remembered Dave saying his mate lived in the town centre in an apartment over some shops, so hopefully, I would find them.
The walk took me about 45 minutes and my feet were killing me. I had blisters on my heels and my toes felt like they were in a vice. Winkle picker shoes were not the best or most comfortable for hiking, but then again, I didn’t plan to do all this walking, did I?
I found the town centre and wandered up and down the high street. The night clubs had kicked out. It was about 2:30am and I was freezing cold and hungry. I had all of £1.80 in my pocket, just enough to buy a one-way ticket so I couldn’t even get back on the train. The security was tight on the way up, no way I would get away with hiding on the train. I attempted to ring the friend’s flat about 20 times more, every time I passed a telephone box I rang and there was still no answer. I looked around for somewhere warmer, apart from shop doorways there was nothing. So I gave the phone number one last try before going out of town to find somewhere to sleep. At last! I can’t believe it. Someone picked up.
It sounded like Andy, “Hello?”
“Where the fuck have you been?” I bellowed down the phone.
“Out at a gig,” he replied. “Abbie is that you?” in a guilty tone.
“Where’s Dave?” I enquired with warning in my voice. I sensed something wrong, the pause was far too long before I got a reply. He was about to say something when I heard giggling in the background.
“Abbie? Abbie is that you?”
“I’m in Leicester Andy! For fuck sake where the hell is Dave?” I was frustrated. The giggling became louder but the beeps went off and I was forced to put more money in. I was rapidly running out of change.
“Where is he?” I shouted. I knew in my heart of hearts where he was. The girls in the background were not alone. I thought I had heard Dave’s voice amongst the giggling.
“Tell him I am here will you?” I pleaded. I was deflated and scared. Why is he doing this to me? We spoke just the other day, and he knew I was coming to Leicester.
“Tell him I will wait in the town centre, Andy.”
“Okay.” He hung up.
It was clear he was uncomfortable, but his saying, “okay,” confirmed that Dave WAS at Andy’s flat. Not only that, he had to know I was on the phone. Andy had said my name several times, so what was he playing at? I couldn’t do anything now, I was stuck. I couldn’t go anywhere just in case he came to look for me. I had told Andy where in the town I was going to wait. So I found a seat and parked myself there and waited, and waited and waited, fumes coming off my head.
Time ticked on. It was 4:30 in the morning and still no sign of Dave. I had not slept and was wondering how long it would be before the birds began singing again? I lay down on the seat and huddled up into a ball. My coat was useless and wasn’t keeping me warm at all. I lay there shivering at times, wishing the morning would come so I could go and find Dave. I had no idea what he was doing, but I had to find out why he hadn’t met me at the station. What happened to our plans? What was I going to do now? I heard footsteps and bolted upright relieved. I turned around with a smile expecting to see Dave. Two police officers stood there staring at me.
“Shit! Shit!” I said under my breath. Now what? If I run for it they’ll give chase. I don’t stand a chance. They’d catch me for sure running in these bloody shoes.
One of them said, “Hello little lady what are you doing out here?”
I explained, “I was supposed to meet a friend but he didn’t arrive at the train station. I telephoned him and he should be here soon. I must stay here or he won’t find me.”
“Sorry, we can’t do that. If we leave you here anything could happen.”
I spent the next half an hour trying to persuade them in a nice way and then in not so nice a way to “leave me alone and go and arrest some real criminals.”
They wouldn’t have any of it though and said I didn’t look old enough to be out at night on my own.
“Unless you tell us who you are and where you live, we will have to take you to the Police station for your own safety.”
I knew at that point I had lost. I broke down then, hung my head and sighed.
Just once, I thought, whimpering to myself. Just once in my life, I’d like something to go right. Maybe I can find Dave tomorrow.
Chapter 21
The Police car was warm. I was actually pleased to have some heat. I had been outside pretty much since 4:00 am the previous day and I was chilled to the bone. I
hadn’t slept apart from a cat nap on the train and I was starving hungry. I told myself that if I had planned it better, I would have taken some more money or at least made some sandwiches.
The desk sergeant at the Police station was insistent I give a name, so I made one up and was taken to a cell where I could get some sleep. Cells didn’t scare me, I settled in and dozed off quickly. I must have only had about three hours sleep when I was woken up by the smell of toast. A policewoman came waltzing into the cell.
“Morning lovely,” she said. She was a bit cheerful for so early in the morning, but I wasn’t going to turn down the chance of a cup of tea and toast by being rude.
The sound of people walking up and down the corridors of the Police station let me know it was getting busier. I felt like a right criminal put in the cells, but for the fact that on this one occasion I hadn’t done anything wrong, In my opinion.
After awhile the policewoman came back and asked me to go with her to an interview room. I followed her through a few doors, down a corridor and into a side room. When we walked in, there was an older lady waiting. She smiled at me as I entered and sat myself down at the table. After a few minutes of her explaining that she was the “on call” social worker from the local social services department, she said she was going to have to find me somewhere to stay. If I didn’t own up to who I was and whom I was supposed to meet, she had no choice.
I can’t tell them the truth, they’ll send me to the home! I would get Dave into big trouble if I told them he was up here too, so I sat in silence whilst they waffled on to me about being sent back to my cell to think about things. As the cell door clunked shut I knew deep down it was over. The social worker told me that I would be going to a Leicestershire children’s home until I decided to tell the truth.
I sat there reasoning that even if I stayed quiet in Leicester, Dave had brought this on himself. He hadn’t met me, he had left me to roast and he obviously didn’t want the things that I did or the things we planned together. The big fat liar. I could sense that on the telephone with girls giggling and having fun in the background. He didn’t need me so what was the point in my staying loyal or staying around?
I was feeling depressed as I finally admitted to lying and told the police officer my real name. They found me on the computer system. The children’s home had reported me as missing. All that was needed now was to arrange for them to take me back home. Home? Is that what it is? It might be a children’s home but it certainly isn’t home to me.
The police drove me all the way back. They were actually quite nice. Listening to the radio and stopping for lunch on the way, they looked on it as a day out. It did take several hours.
I didn’t know what to expect on my return. Am I in trouble? What will happen now? The police gave me lectures about behaving myself and to stop wasting everyone’s time. Yes that’s it, at the end of the day, I’m just a waste of time. Even Dave couldn’t be bothered with me anymore. My family couldn’t be bothered so why should I? I planned that I would just end it all. I would kill myself and have it over and done with, then I wouldn’t be a burden.
The staff were surprisingly welcoming when we arrived back home. I had thought after all the agro I had caused everyone, I was in for a lecture or two. But I was pleasantly surprised when I was told to go and have a bath and they would sort out some dinner for me.
The other kids ran up to me on the stairs, all excited to hear the stories of my adventure. I had nothing to say. I certainly didn’t want to tell the other kids that my boyfriend had left me to make a complete fool of myself and how I was left stranded in a strange city, sleeping on a bench. Err, no, I think I’ll keep this adventure to myself.
I had nothing to say to anyone; the staff all tried talking to me. They were aware of what had happened, the police had told them. They gave me space for the night and I ate dinner and went to bed. I didn’t have any arguments left. All I wanted to do was sleep. Hopefully, tomorrow Dave would ring me saying how sorry he was and how it was all a big mistake, that it wasn’t him at Andy’s flat and that it must have been someone else’s voice. But my heart knew the truth, and I knew that even if he did call, I had nothing to say.
The phone did ring the next day but it was my social worker Albert. The children’s home had told him that I was not welcome there anymore. He was told he had to find an alternative placement for me. I was a bad influence on the other kids and causing unrest in the home.
“Why did you fucking bring me back, if you’re getting rid of me?” I screamed at them as I stomped up the stairs. I was furious. I could have stayed up in Leicester and met Dave. What if Dave had turned up five minutes after I was found by the police? And they had the audacity to say, “You’re back now so you can fuck off!” Well, that’s what it felt like to me. I ran up the rest of the stairs to be on my own, slammed my door and threw myself down on my bed and buried my head in my pillow. I was angry, upset, rejected, all of the above, but no tears would come. I couldn’t remember the last time I had cried real tears. I screamed anger into my pillow.
I wasn’t interested in dinner when I was called down later. All I wanted was to be left alone. People only came into my life to hurt me or wreck it, to wreck my plans and spoil any fun I might have. What is the point in doing anything to make my life happier when so called well meaning adults are there to mess it up?
Chapter 22
I lay on my bed in the children’s home staring at one of the pictures and deep in thought when suddenly I heard voices. I recognised the unmistakeable Welsh accent. Someone was on the way up the stairs because I was usually unable to hear more than about a flight and a half down from my room. I remained on my bed unconcerned. I had a cloud over me. I really couldn’t be bothered with anything or anyone. A gentle knock at my door brought me back out of my self-pitying daydream of how I was going to end it all. I ignored the knock, rolled over in bed and turned my back to the door. It got louder.
“Hello hun, it’s Albert, can I come in?”
“Do what you like, you’re going to anyway,” I hurled at him through the old wooden door. The door creaked open and he entered gingerly and perched himself on the white wicker chair in my room.
“You’ve gone and done it this time Lassie, no more chances!” He gazed at me with a stern face expecting some sort of reply, or maybe an explosion.
Is he asking me or stating a fact? I wondered. “Fuck off.”
“Why Abbie? Why are you so hell bent on hurting yourself. No one else is getting hurt apart from you?”
With a quick glance at his face it looked like he genuinely cared. But I turned away. I just gazed out the window at the sky trying to put him to the back of my mind. He was a nice bloke and I didn’t want to lose my temper. He seemed to be on my side. Every time he came he left me with fags or cash to buy fags. He always made sure I had money for clothes and he was easy to squeeze for extra coin. He was probably the only person left I could wrap around my finger. I had a bit of a soft spot for him. “Cupboard love,” the staff said behind his back.
“Where now then?” I mumbled still staring at the window. He stood up and started walking back to the door.
“I’ve got a suitcase in my car for you. I’ll fetch it lass and we’ll get you packed. You’ll find out soon enough,” he said on his way out the door without looking back.
I took my time in packing my belongings. I certainly wasn’t about to rush for anyone. I checked my makeup, hair and put on my favourite black ski pants. I made my way down the stairs to get some food. It was a hive of activity as I walked down the hall into the dining room. But as I entered it fell totally silent. I mean it was deathly quiet. No one would even look at me. It was like they felt some sort of guilt or remorse and didn’t know what to say. I really didn’t care though, grabbing some bread and shoving a couple of slices of bacon in between. I walked outside and into the garden wondering, The way they look I must be going to the gallows.
All of a sudden I snapped and my brain w
ent out of gear. I was at boiling point, pacing up and down clenching my fists. I wanted to explode. I wanted to scream but I didn’t know why. I threw my bacon butty across the garden and lit a cigarette.
“Come on hun,” Albert called after me. “Let’s get this over with and get on our way.”
We went back to my room, squeezed the rest of my stuff into the one suitcase and walked out to his car. He stood there at the door talking with staff and signing a piece of paper.
He turned and waved at the other kids and called out, “Cheerio.” They were looking out of their windows. I didn’t look at them. I looked away into the trees as we drove out of the gravel driveway. The gardener caught my eye as we drove past and gave me a wink, a smile and a nod and walked away to his shed. Hmmm, I thought, that’s exactly where he was the first time I arrived at this godforsaken place.
The drive to Margate didn’t take long. I was in a daze for most of the journey, planning to run away at the first chance I got. But where?
“Not long now,” Albert said. “No other home will take you dearie. You used up all your nine lives. Now you’re on your own.”
“On my own?” I said back to him. I was shocked and my voice went all high pitched, “I’m not even 16 yet, how can I be on my own?” I laughed nervously.
“You’re far too difficult, Abbie. You’re too old to be fostered, and the children’s homes don’t want you. So the next thing is ‘supported lodgings.’”
“Supported lodgings?” I did my parrot impression again.
As we drove along the seafront, I got pretty excited about suddenly being in control of my own life. Am I going to live near the sea? I hoped so. The sea means freedom. Its power is eternal, I love the sea. Maybe my love of the sea came from my dad. He was a merchant seaman in his younger days so maybe it was in my blood. One day I’ll go to sea and maybe work on the ships. But then I thought, Maybe not. As much as I loved the sea, I had a more than a healthy respect for it. I wouldn’t even swim in it. The strength of the waves and the current and the thought of sharks scared me.
Invisible Tears Page 13
