My True Colours

by Hannah Francis

  Jonah and Dad become closer than ever over the next year, and Jonah stays at his granddad’s every term time. Secretly, I am glad he is away from Roger and the moods. If Jonah needs money or food, Dad or I make sure one of us can take it to him. I tell my father not to tell Roger anything because it keeps the peace, and he agrees. I feel like I am living a double life.

  The second shop has been open for a year and a half, and it is still not making a sustainable profit. Lorna has qualified in the beauty courses. I have kitted out the shop with a beauty couch, a wax pot, and a nail bar, but she doesn’t seem to have enough confidence. The only day we make money is on the day I am working. I work hard all day, and at the end of the week, the stylist and Lorna are holding their hands out, demanding to be paid and knowing that they have sat on their arses all week. I have also been told that the stylist has been doing mobile as well, the cheeky bitch. I am furious – talk about taking the piss!

  A week later, Lorna asks if I can attend a meeting after work. I wonder what is happening. When I get there, they make me a cup of tea and are joking around. Eventually I ask them what the problem is, and Lorna pipes up, “Oh, nothing. We just thought because we have been open a while now, we were due a pay raise.”

  I reply, “No way!” and remind them both that they do not even cover their own wages, let alone the running costs of the business.

  When I get home, I tell Roger about the meeting and the mobile rumours. I also tell him that I am worried about my hands. My knuckles are enlarged, and I think that it may be the onset of arthritis. I have looked into doing my PGCE teaching qualification. This is a precaution, as a back-up career. He tells me that I am doing too much now, and it is a good idea to do the PGCE, but I must give the second shop up first because it is a chain around my neck.

  I have to agree with him. The following week is spent enrolling on the PGCE course and obtaining shadow teaching hours at a local college. I then inform Lorna and my stylist that I am selling the shop. I tell the stylist that she has first refusal, and I am asking five thousand pounds for it. She tells me she wants it, and within a week, she has paid me and the shop is hers. Lorna is furious, but I am sick of carrying her.

  Three months later, I am attending the same university as Jonah. I go one day a week for two years. On my uni day, I have an insight into Jonah’s lifestyle. He is enjoying life and is happy. He has made lots of good friends and is pursuing his passion, documentary film making. He updates me on his ideas and what his next project is going to be. I take his shopping to him before my course starts. I know if I give him money, he will spend it on his busy social life. A month later, Jonah announces that he has a girlfriend and wants me to meet her. Her name is Carla.

  Since my mother’s death, Sophie and I have become closer. Lorna is still bitter at me for finishing at the salon, but she has a new job in a local healthcare trust and is now a carer. Lorna doesn’t have children and has always joked that she prefers animals to kids any day of the week. Sophie and I still go out on Mondays, despite Roger’s efforts to fill up my time.

  Eligh is about to finish school and start college. He has become distant and withdrawn. I know that he does not like staying in the house, and I cannot blame him, Roger has got rid of Jonah and has moved on to moaning about Eligh all the time. The poor kid cannot do anything right. Three weeks later, I come home to Roger screaming, “He has done it again!” I ask him what the matter is, and he screams, “He has moved the shower head.”

  I think, Big fucking deal. I remind Roger that it is a movable shower head. He screams that if he keeps moving it, it is going to break, and he is practically spitting in my face. I tell him to get a fucking grip. This is the last straw for Eligh, who can hear the row from his bedroom upstairs. He is packing his stuff. Roger has stormed into the room like a girl as Eligh and Frankie come downstairs. Eligh comments that he cannot live with the prick any longer, and he asks me take him to Granddad’s. I make Frankie and Polly come with us and drop Eligh at my father’s, explaining about the row and how Roger needs to get a grip. Amazingly, Dad sticks up for Roger and says it is hard taking on someone else’s kids, especially when you know they don’t like you. I remind him that it is Roger’s fault.

  Polly asks to go home because she is tired. Dad agrees that Eligh can stay with him for a while. Eligh is unpacking in the bedroom. as I go up the stairs to speak to him and get Frankie, I overhear Eligh telling Frankie, “Mam chose Roger over us years ago.” I enter the bedroom and tell them both that it isn’t true, and I will always be there for them. I also tell them that they do not understand and that I am torn because Polly loves Roger.

  I kiss Eligh and tell him I love him. He replies, “Yeah, right.” Although things settle down, Eligh refuses to come home. His granddad says he can stay with him as long as he likes, but he has to keep the bedroom clean. Eligh is a slob. I clean the house to save arguments and make sure Eligh has everything he needs. He has become quite crafty and will ask Dad for money, and then ask me. Later in the day, when I see my father, I have to pay him back. This goes on for several weeks and is getting expensive. Between buying food for Eligh and Jonah, they are bankrupting me. I tell Dad to stop giving them money; if he does, I am not going to pay him back. I also tell the boys to cut it out. It has taken all my savings to keep them, and I am struggling. I joke to the girls at work that if Roger knew how much they were costing me, we would be divorced.

  As the months slip by, Frankie spends more and more time at my father’s. He tells me, “Our house doesn’t feel like home anymore.” His granddad’s house is his home now. I feel sad I am losing them. Roger is happier these days; he has succeeded in pushing my boys through the door. Although I have always told him if he makes me choose between him or them, it will be them, it doesn’t feel like it. Polly loves Roger, and if we go shopping or go on holidays, he spoils her and lets her take her best friend with us so she has company. The boys stopped coming on holiday years ago. I put it down to them being teenagers and not liking the sun, but in truth I cannot blame them. For them, spending a week with Roger would be like torture.

  Even when we go away with Polly and her best friend, Roger is great for the first three days. But as soon as he realises that we are spending money, he sulks, argues with me, and storms off for no reason. I call him a twat! But Polly won’t have a word said about him.

  Roger has been moaning that I have gained weight again, and he tells me if I wanted to go to the gym, I could “make time”. I tell Sophie about it, and she says, “He is a cheeky bastard and should look in the mirror.” Roger is not a fitness fanatic or muscle bound. He is a classic middle-aged, bald, pot-bellied man with man boobs. He thinks because his arms and legs are skinny in comparison (this is not a good look), he can eat what he wants. Sophie reminds me that I am only a size twelve.

  Roger has also been commenting on my saggy boobs and stomach, and he constantly makes comments like, “Watch that you don’t trip over your nipples when you get out of the shower.” Polly thinks this is hysterical. He tells me that we are comfortable, so why don’t I treat myself and look at getting a boob job or my stomach done? I am amazed and look at the cost online. I tell him how much it will be for a tummy tuck and boob job. He replies, “So long as you get a loan. We have no mortgage now. Go for it!”

  An hour later, Harley Street calls me on the phone and tells me I could go in for a free consultation next week. I tell Roger, and he nods his approval. Three months later, I am led to a hospital in London I have a tummy tuck and a boob job. My saggy 36B cups are transformed into 36DD. My stomach has been taped tight together with a sticky bandage, and I have to wear a support belt for six weeks, I cannot shower for two weeks and have to use wet wipes. Jonah sees me at my father’s after the operation and comments on my thin stomach (it is still taped). It has totally transformed my shape.

  Three months later, Roger has bought me a second-hand running machine, and I exercise every morning.
I make the time.

  I have to admit that the surgery has given me confidence. I feel like I have the figure I had before Jonah, but with larger boobs that are firm and attract a lot of attention. I have lost weight, and Roger has proposed to me. We are engaged.

  Polly has a boyfriend, and he visits most nights. He is a nice lad, but I am concerned that he is two years older than her. They have been dating for nearly a year now, and Polly still hasn’t forgiven me for making her go on the pill. I have told her she is not living my life. I want more for all of them, but especially her. Men can walk away, but women cannot, and she is my girl.

  Seven months later, Roger and I tie the knot. It is a quiet affair, and we invite our children and their partners, a few family friends, and our siblings and their significant others. Roger has a granddaughter, and he is over the moon because it’s a girl. He has told his daughter and her partner that he will babysit any day except Saturday – he will not miss going to the Club. I have been trying to get him to venture somewhere different, but his excuse is always, “Let’s just go with the flow,” or, “When we get to the Club, we’ll see what the others want to do.” They never want to go anywhere different.

  Six months later, his other daughter announces that she has a boyfriend and is bringing him to the house for us to meet him. She has been dating him on and off for a few years, and he works in the same factory. Her sister has informed us that he was married with a young son, but he has finally left his wife for Sally. It is a hot, sunny day, and we are in the garden talking to the neighbours while we wait for them to arrive. We hear a loud, screeching noise and car engine, so we go to investigate.

  An electric blue Subaru with blacked-out windows has pulled up outside the house. Out jumps Sally and her fella. He is a forty-year-old man who, apart from a bit of fluff in the middle, has a strawberry-blond spike all around his head to disguise his baldness. He looks like an old version of Bard Simpson. Sally shouts, “Hi, you two! This is Ken.”

  I cannot look at Roger. We say hi and invite them in. Sally and Ken become regular visitors. They are allowed because she is his daughter. Occasionally they stay a little too long, and Roger gives massive hints for them to leave. I tell him how rude he is, but he doesn’t care. Ken is in his mid-life crisis, and I cannot work out whether Sally actually loves Ken, or whether she simply wanted him because he was married.

  A few weeks later, on their next visit, they pull up on a brand-new motorbike with matching outfits that are black with red stripes, as well as matching boots and helmets. It must have cost them a fortune. Sally looks terrible, but Ken is on another level. His pot belly is protruding in his suit, and the helmet has flattened his spikes, showing several moles in the fluffy area. I offer them a cup of tea as an excuse to leave the room.

  Polly comes into the kitchen and spots me giggling to myself. She says, “Oh, you’ve seen Mork and Mindy, then, have you?” We are in stitches. Three months later, Sally announces she is pregnant. The bike and Babygros have to go!

  Roger’s daughter’s are like chalk and cheese. Sally is the loud, abrupt one. All through her pregnancy, she tells anyone who will listen that if her sister can go through labour, so can she, and she isn’t worried at all. Several months later, she gives birth to a daughter. When we reach the hospital, her mother and Ken look exhausted and tell us that she screamed the hospital down – and they have told her not to come back! We meet Roger’s second granddaughter, who is the double of Ken and has a mop of red hair.

  Roger’s friends have discovered caravanning and have joined the club. Some of his friends have tents, so this means that we have a break from the Social Club. Although it is fun, I find it hard to get there because I work Saturdays. Because of this, if we go, Roger and Polly go earlier, and I meet them later. He has invested in a cheap caravan. This is the only time Eligh will go back to the house; he minds the dogs. I order takeaway for Frankie and Eligh before I leave for the campsite.

  Roger has been on the phone at least twenty times, wondering where I am. I get there around seven thirty, they are all drunk, and Roger is furious. I sarkily apologise for not bringing the helicopter, and everyone laughs except him. The only time we have sex these days is make-up sex, and the next day, he has to tell everyone we did it. He is like a fucking child. The caravan comes out every weekend, whether I want to go or not, and he reminds me that we have to go with the flow.

  I have completed my PGCE. There hasn’t been a spare minute in the day for me for almost two years. My graduation is coming up, and I think of my mother and how I wish she could be there. Lorna and Roger come to my graduation. Lorna snaps a few photos; it’s a nice day, and we sit out in the sun. She has forgiven me for losing her job and is enjoying her new one. I think she has found her calling. I joke that I never thought I would see the day that she would be wiping arses! She replies, “It’s not that bad, and I always wear double gloves!”

  Eligh has started college and is doing a fine arts diploma. He is very talented but does not know what he wants to do. I tell him that he would be good at architecture and remind him that he has achieved all his sciences, maths, and English GCSEs. He tells me that he doesn’t want to do that. Frankie is also good at art and is in his last year in school. He still has one-to-one teaching because he is dyslexic. The teachers tell me that he is working to the best of his ability. Polly is going through her stroppy teenager age, and she is hard work. She has a new friend whose parents have just split up, and Polly tells me that she shouts at her mother and is really cheeky to her. I tell her if she spoke to me like that, I would go mad. Polly knows her boundaries and is careful not to break them.

  I apply for a teaching job and am successful. It is one day a week, and I teach fourteen- to sixteen-year-olds on a learning pathway hairdressing course. I love working with this age group. Stroppy teenagers are my speciality! I work for an independent company, and my manager is down to earth and very supportive. She helps me with anything I need to know, and in return I offer to cover parent evenings and advertising events if I am available. Roger tells me that my pay can go into the savings account and will help to pay for the monthly instalments on the new caravan he intends to buy. He always has a way of channelling my income into his pocket. Although we have a joint account, if I spend any money, within the hour I get a phone call to ask what I have spent and why. He is tight as fuck!

  Six months later, life is plodding along. I am as busy as ever and try to fit in seeing Sophie and Lorna on my day off. They have noticed how little time I have to spend with them and comment on how many times Roger rings, wanting to know where I am and how long I am going to be. Dad has had the date for his new hip operation. It is in three weeks, and he adds that it would be nice to talk to me because I never have time to sit down anymore. I apologize and say I will tomorrow, before rushing out of the door.

  The weeks pass quickly. Dad’s operation goes well, and he tells me that for the first time in forty-three years, his legs are the same length. The surgeons have new machinery now, and this time they were able to successfully get the old, false hip out and replace it. He is booked in to have his knee done next, and then he can go back to work and book another diving holiday. This is his passion; he loves deep-sea diving and is planning on returning to Egypt and diving in the Red Sea. He reminisces about his last holiday there, telling me that the hotels are enormous and the food always gives him the squirts. I thank him for that bit of information, and we both laugh.

  When he asks me if I want to watch the videos he has at home (he has several), I decline. They are home videos of him underwater in a wetsuit, doing the “OK” sign all the way through it. Dad gives a running commentary as we watch (suffer) it. At one point, he approaches a turtle and comments, “That’s a turtle.” When there’s a fish, he says, “That’s a fish. Look!” It’s more boring than going to the Club or caravanning. I like my new friends, but they do not want to go anywhere fun or exciting!

 
Dad is recovering well from his operation, but he has had to go for tests because he keeps getting water infections. A month later, he tells us that he has cancer cells in the bladder, but we shouldn’t worry because he is confident that the doctors have caught it early, and he will be OK. A month later, Dad has a biopsy on his bladder. He tells me how embarrassed he was when a young, spotty-faced nurse had to slide a tube up his willy. Although it didn’t hurt going in, it made his toes curl when they pulled it out. I am imagining my father’s screams and think back to the time when |Mam used to cut his toenails. He used to howl before she had chance to get near him!

  Unlike my mother, Dad is not scared; he is positive they will cure him. His job has kept him going since her death. I am so grateful to his employer for keeping him on. I remember the time he suffered from depression. He has always promised himself that he would never sink so low again. I am glad that he has the strength to cope without her by his side. I tell him I love him and am proud of him. Sometimes you just have to say it out loud.

  Jonah is still dating Carla. She is a lovely girl but has mood swings and a temper. Jonah is in denial about my father’s cancer. He tells me he knows his granddad will be OK. My father has been like a dad to the boys, and Jonah tells me he would be devastated if anything happened to him. I reassure him he will be OK, and we go for coffee. Jonah confides in me about Carla, and I give him the best advice I can.