by Pat Barrow
Dad must have told Mum that he wasn’t agreeing to us going up for a visit to Whitley Bay. She spoke to us both about it on the Saturday saying how disappointed she was that it couldn’t happen. She seemed annoyed, well annoyed with Dad anyhow. I didn’t want to hear it. “Like I said, Hetty, your dad always causes a problem, he always upsets everything.” Whether that was true or not, I didn’t want to hear Mum running Dad down, I was scared to hear it.
So I blurted out, “That’s not fair Mum, you know Dad’s trying to get it right for us and you’re the one who’s leaving, you’re the one who’s going miles away, you’re the one who’s making it all difficult, don’t blame Dad.”
“Yes, it is your fault, Mum,” Jonty piped up. “I don’t want to go to Whitley Bay. I don’t want to go at all. Dad’s right, you’re running away from us, you’re leaving us, you don’t care about us.”
The words were said now and we couldn’t take them back. Mum looked horrified, like she couldn’t believe what she’d heard. She stood shaking her head – had we both turned on her? I could see that she was trying to pull herself together and fighting back the tears. “Let’s leave it for now,” she whispered.
All three of us were pretty tense that evening. Usually we would play a game of Cleudo together but nobody wanted to tonight, so we watched the TV instead. I was relieved when it was a reasonable time for us to go upstairs to bed. Why oh why was it all so difficult? What had I done to deserve this? Was I such a horrible person? Had I really caused so much trouble? I knew it must be all my fault, let’s face it, there wouldn’t be any arguments if it wasn’t for me. I didn’t know how to make things any better, I couldn’t put it right. Maybe when I grew up, it might be different – at least what I thought might count for something then. But that was years and years away – how would I survive till then? Jonty crept into my room later on. He wanted to talk but I pretended to be asleep. I didn’t want to talk to him, I didn’t know how to. I hurt so much there wasn’t room for his pain too, I wanted to just go to sleep and for everything to go away, to be happy and carefree again but I knew it wouldn’t be any different next morning.
The only bright thing on the horizon was that Carol was coming to talk to us. Dad was clearly annoyed that she was involved again. He had already given us a pep talk about making sure that we really understood that Carol was on Mum’s side. He was emphatic that we needed to be very careful what we said to her. We had to remember that we three stuck together and resisted her attempts to pick us off one by one, because that’s what these social workers always did. “By all means, be nice and polite to her but just be very, very careful what you say because rest assured she’ll twist your words around and before you know it, she’ll be insisting that you said the opposite of what you really said and you won’t be able to do anything about it because you won’t be in court when she tells the judge her fairy stories. These social workers, they have a lot of power and influence and they cosy up to the judge and hey presto exactly what they want happens.” But what did we want? Somehow, I couldn’t be sure it was what Dad really wanted. I just knew much as I wanted and needed him I didn’t want to lose my mum either.
Chapter 25
It was the first week of June. My birthday was on the tenth and Jonty’s was two days later, but Dad seemed preoccupied and didn’t even want to talk about how we could celebrate. I knew that he was thinking about the court hearing and sure enough, he broached the subject one night. “Well, you two, we’re going to have to have a plan and know exactly what we’re doing.”
“What do you mean, Dad?” I looked at him questioningly with a rising sense of panic.
“Well, we need to show a united front. Like I said, Carol’s going to come and talk to you. I know how she wheedles you around and gets you to change your minds, so we all need to be pretty certain of what we’re going to say before she comes.” Jonty seemed all for it, but I looked doubtful.
“But Dad, I thought the whole thing was that it would be a chance for me and Jonty to say what we want to Carol.”
“Well, within reason, but not when you’re put under pressure to say what she wants you to say. I know how these social workers work, believe me. I’ve got real experience of them and I know what they’ll do. I know how she’ll get around you and before you know where you are, you’ll be agreeing with her and of course, she’s on Mum’s side, she couldn’t care a damn about me.” Jonty just lapped it up. He hung on every word that Dad said. I just couldn’t say anything and of course Dad took that to mean that I agreed with him.
“Anyway, I’ve got it all worked out,” Dad continued, “so listen on you two and take note so that you’ve got your stories perfect for when Carol comes. You’re going to make it quite clear to her that you really love being here in Welshpool and Shrewsbury and that you’re very upset and shocked that Mum’s chosen to move away. It feels like she’s deserting you and deep down your fears are that she isn’t really bothered about you any more are confirmed. You are quite sure that the best way that you can manage it is to just go and see her for a short while very occasionally. That way we can all be happy. You know I don’t even mind if you went up in the summer for a couple of weeks and I would take you one way and Mum can bring you the other way. Then maybe you could go again for a short visit around Christmas time. In between, you can write to each other and ring each other or send emails.”
“I don’t like sending emails,” said Jonty. “So I’m not doing that and I don’t like writing letters either, it’s boring.”
I heard Dad’s words but they made no sense. Whatever was he saying? Did he really mean that I would only see my mum twice a year? And did he believe that that would be okay, that I didn’t care about her anymore? Words of protest flooded into my head but they jammed in my throat and wouldn’t come out of my mouth. Instead, I heard myself agreeing with Dad. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I muttered. What about all my protests? What about saying ‘Dad, Dad what do you mean – that’s not what I want? Why are you stopping Mum seeing us? Why are you being so mean? Why are you being so selfish?’ But none of that came out. Much as I tried, I couldn’t challenge him – ‘coward, coward’ – screamed my inner voice. Dad gave us both a big hug.
“I know I can rely on you two. We’re a team, the three of us, nothing’s going to daunt us and of course if you’re feeling a bit nervous about Carol, you can always insist that she sees you both together. In fact, I think I’ll say that to her that you’ve both been very uncomfortable about the thought of being split off and I think it would be better if it was here at home, I’ll go upstairs out of the way and then you can both talk to her but you’d have that reassurance that I’m on hand.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Carol was my only chance. She was the only person in the world that I felt I could talk to and really say how I felt and express the fears I had but Dad had sussed it out. He knew that I trusted her; he knew I wanted to talk to her and he was going to stop me. He was so clever, he always was. He did it in a way which made it seem that it was the right thing to do and I just didn’t know what to say in response. Well, perhaps I did but I didn’t have the nerve to do it because, yes, the same old story, he wouldn’t love me anymore. He wouldn’t want me if I wasn’t totally loyal to him and if I hadn’t got my mum because she was moving away, I needed him even more.
But Dad hadn’t finished yet. “Mmm, I don’t know if you realise but your mum wants to continue the court order that says you live with her as well as with me. But of course that’s not going to be how it really is at all, is it? You’re going to live here and see a bit of her sometimes when she can fit you in. So, I think it will make everybody feel much more secure and safe if you both just live with me and have contact with Mum. That’s what most parents do, they don’t have this thing where they’re sharing their kids. It’s never been equal anyhow, you’ve always really lived with me. Yeah, it goes right back to when Mum drove us all out and we had to run away because she was so dangerous and unpredict
able and we just didn’t have any peace. We didn’t have any choice; we had to get out. She seems to have just sailed though and had everything her own way ever since and she’s got to face the reality now that life isn’t like that and for once in her life, she can’t have exactly what she wants. She’s very lucky that I’m going to be so agreeable to her having anything to do with you really. If she chooses to live at the other end of the country, that is her choice and she has to put up with the consequence that she’s not going to see much of you two. Like I keep telling you, she wants to start a new life, free from you two but she’s so clever she’s kidding you she wants you – doing it for you! Rubbish, she’s doing it to spite me. Face it kids – she’s dumped you.”
It just didn’t seem to enter Dad’s head that we both missed Mum and we couldn’t imagine not seeing her when she went away. He seemed to think that the relationship was only one sided and that it was just about Mum not wanting us anymore, and that wasn’t true anyway. He’d got no idea of how wretched we felt and I guess when I thought about it, I could see that he didn’t really see that Mum was of any importance in our lives at all; she just didn’t matter to him, so why would she matter to us?
It made me really cross that Jonty didn’t seem to have a mind of his own at all. He just lapped up everything that Dad said. But to be fair, maybe a couple of years ago, it would have been like that for me but it wasn’t now. Still I wasn’t voicing my protests either. I hated this growing up, it was just so difficult, maybe I don’t want to grow up, maybe I just want to stay young and carefree. It felt like my whole world was spinning out of control and I couldn’t control anything. I couldn’t manage anything and I didn’t know what to do. I felt so little, so helpless, so lost, so desperate and now the one person who could help had been snatched away by Dad.
Nevertheless, Carol and Dad must have had a discussion because Dad’s suggestion of her seeing the two of us together at home with him around didn’t happen. I got a note from Carol a few days later saying that she had arranged to pick me up from school the following Thursday. Of course, Dad knew about the appointment but he didn’t say anything. Perhaps he realised how much I needed to talk to Carol. But my optimism was crushed on Thursday morning when he said, “Just remember what we said, Hetty, don’t let the side down. I need to be confident that I can rely on you. Remember where your loyalties lie. Don’t for goodness sake go and spoil everything like you’ve done in the past. I know how you like to please everybody but Carol’s nothing to you, she’ll be out of your life soon. I’m the one that matters and our family – that’s you, me and Jonty, just us – so make sure you get it right. I tell you, I’m relying on you.” The weight of responsibility was crushing me. There was nothing I could do – I wanted Dad to love me and approve of me but I also knew that meant him owning me and controlling me. I’d be his puppet on a string and my mum would fade away ’cos that’s what he wanted.
Years before, we’d been to Morecombe Bay and I remember looking across the sands. They had looked so smooth and so inviting and Dad had told us about the dangers lurking underneath the quicksands in the bay and how they would swallow a person up – they would sink in and just disappear without trace. That’s how I felt now. I was sinking in this great mire. No matter how much I struggled, I couldn’t fight my way to the surface. It was swallowing me up. The weight of responsibility placed on me was unbearable and I just didn’t know what I could do. It was a difficult day at school. I couldn’t concentrate at all and I got told off a couple of times. Suzie knew I was meeting Carol and gave me a hug. “Look, be brave, Hetty, tell her how you really feel.”
“But she’ll have to tell my dad and then he’ll know what I’ve said. I’m scared, I can’t lose him Suzie, I can’t.”
“Well, if you say what your dad wants you to say, how’s your mum going to feel? And you’ll feel responsible about her then. You should be loyal to yourself, Hetty; you can’t just please everybody else.”
Oh yes, that sounded so sensible, easy for her to say. She didn’t have a mum and dad who hated each other. She had a nice easy mum and dad. I’d give anything to have her mum and dad instead of mine. Well, not really, but a mum and dad like them. I stupidly wished my mum and dad didn’t hate each other but deep down I knew it would never change. “It’s going to be like this for the rest of my life, I know it is. How can I grow up? Not with all this going on.”
Carol gave me a big smile when she met me. She was in her car waiting in the layby. I jumped in and immediately burst into tears. “Where do you fancy going, Hetty, to have a chat?”
“I don’t know,” I blurted, my eyes and my nose running simultaneously. “Could we just go and park up somewhere and talk in the car. I don’t really want to go in a café or anywhere. I look such a mess.”
“Sure, that’s okay. Let’s drive to the layby by Attingham Park and park there by the river.”
It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny. I should have been happy but I just felt like my insides were tied up in knots. I wanted so much to tell Carol how I felt but I was scared, really, really scared. Carol sensed how it was for me, acknowledging how difficult all this must be and how painful. How brave I would need to be if I was to say how I felt, what I hoped for when I was stuck in what seemed to be an impossible situation wanting to get it right for my mum and my dad. She understood exactly but even so, it wouldn’t make things any easier; it wasn’t going to solve anything, it didn’t give me the answers. It still felt that I had to choose either Mum or Dad. Carol helped me to appreciate that my mum wasn’t running away and that those doubts and fears that I’d had about her love for me were not reality. She encouraged me to convince myself by recalling the good times we’d had together and how Mum had willingly accommodated all the activities Dad arranged for us. “Do you think she’s trying to make it easier for you by taking away all the times you have to choose either her or your dad?” Carol posed. I thought about it and realised that Carol may well be right and if so, her moving away may not diminish our relationship with her.
Of course what Carol said made sense and I wanted to believe her, but these doubts crept in. Carol made it sound straightforward but that assumed Dad would be reasonable and of course, he wouldn’t be. Not seeing my mum every week just seemed impossible even to think about. Carol encouraged me to consider what the future might look like and how I’d like things to be. What I’d like to happen and perhaps most importantly what I could do to help things work better. As she said, I couldn’t change how Mum or Dad behaved or how Jonty reacted. I could only actually be responsible for myself. I didn’t have to tell Carol how fearful I was about losing Dad’s love. She knew. Without me saying anything. She knew how special he was, how important, how I couldn’t voice an alternative view to his, except inside my own head.
Chapter 26
Carol and I met several times. It helped me to begin to make sense of what was about to happen and so I could work out what I hoped the future would hold. I knew I wanted to see Mum during each holiday but knowing how I would survive in between was impossible to visualise. To ease the situation, Carol suggested that maybe Mum could come down midterm for a weekend and stay with a friend so Jonty and I would be able to meet up with her. We talked about using Skype and phone calls and letters. I love writing and I thought that maybe having regular correspondence with Mum might make things easier, but would Dad demand to read those letters and would he expect to censor any letters I got back from Mum? I guessed he would, so that would spoil everything. He didn’t want me to have any secrets and he would want to be sure that I wasn’t saying anything bad about him, that I wasn’t plotting anything behind his back. I had to face it, unless I totally agreed with Dad, he didn’t trust me. I knew from lifelong experience that with Dad you either had to be totally for him, or he just assumed you were against him, there wasn’t any half way.
Carol explained that it was usual for parents to share travelling and that meeting half way might be better than relying on one paren
t to fetch or deliver us. Whilst I agreed, a bit of me was really panicked – would Dad find some excuse for it just not to happen? Carol helped me to accept that the feelings of self-doubt that flooded my head were generated by my concerns about Mum and Dad and the unrealistic but very real belief that I was responsible for their happiness; that my lack of confidence and conviction that I was pretty worthless all stemmed from feeling powerless in the face of such huge, huge difficulties which she insisted weren’t my fault. She kept reminding me that none of this was my fault; sadly, I had a mum and dad who weren’t able to get it right for Jonty and me. She wasn’t criticising them but trying to help me realise that it wasn’t my job to get it right for them and that I didn’t have to choose one or the other. That I had a right to love both of them and to see my mum as often as it was possible even though she was moving away. Mum and Dad had a responsibility to me and Jonty to make sure that happened. It all sounded so clear, so certain, so fair – so why did I just know there would be problems all along the way? ‘Cos of your dad’ that little voice of mine insisted – I didn’t want those thoughts, I couldn’t go there.
Carol had similar conversations with Jonty. He was reluctant to say much to me but what a different story it was when Dad was around. I was seething, he always emphasised to Dad how he’d told Carol in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want to go to Whitley Bay and that he couldn’t care less whether he ever saw Mum again. I knew this wasn’t true, I knew he’d told Carol he was scared he’d lose Mum and that Dad wouldn’t let him love her and a bit of me hated him for being so two faced. But even then, I realised that he was just a very, very scared little boy who didn’t dare to love Mum because he couldn’t bear the thought of his dad not loving him any more than I could. Dad had both of us trapped.