by Peters, Joe
Although I was embarrassed for a moment at having made such a mistake, I became the centre of the party from then on, forever known as the man who had brought the pig’s head to a family barbecue–on top of being the man who had nicked the flowers from the graveyard–and I enjoyed the feeling of being a part of this good-humoured family’s folklore. I liked it when they all took the mickey, because it always felt as if they were doing it with affection.
The next day at the farm I should have mentioned it to the farmer and offered to pay her for it, but I think I was a bit embarrassed at having made such a gauche mistake and I wasn’t sure how to bring the subject up. Whatever the reason, I missed my opportunity and then a couple of days had gone past and it seemed too late to say anything. As I got on with my job, I gradually forgot about the incident until the day that she asked if she could have a word.
‘Of course,’ I said. I always liked talking to her because I usually ended up learning something new.
‘Someone has been taking things from my deep freeze and I just wondered if you know anything about it.’
I felt sick inside and instantly realized I had made a mistake.
‘I actually took half a pig’s head,’ I confessed. ‘I’m very sorry. I should have told you.’
‘What would you have done with half a pig’s head?’ she asked, looking completely baffled.
‘I took it to a barbecue,’ I said, expecting her to laugh at my stupidity as the others had.
She looked at me with her mouth hanging open. ‘Oh,’ she said, recovering herself. ‘I’m not very happy with that, Joe. You should have asked me first.’
There was nothing I could say to that. I immediately offered to pay her back out of my wages but I could see that with that one stupid mistake I had lost her trust and made her question the wisdom of keeping me around. Even though it seemed a relatively trivial thing, I had acted dishonestly and I could see that she was uncomfortable having me coming and going from her house after that. She also reported the incident to my ginger-moustached tutor at the college and said that she didn’t want to have me on the farm any more. I was very sad that the incident seemed to be getting blown out of proportion because I had liked working there, but in the end I knew it was my own stupid fault.
Everyone was disappointed in me and Carol said that I would have to move to St Austell now to finish the course, but I was still adamant I didn’t want to start again with another probation officer. I know I was being quite stubborn and difficult about it, but I was learning that if I didn’t stick up for myself no one else was going to do it for me.
‘All right,’ Carol said eventually, and I could see she was trying really hard to find a solution I would be happy with. ‘I will come and visit you on your next placement, wherever that might be.’
I really appreciated that gesture because she didn’t have to make it and it might cause her a lot of inconvenience if I was placed somewhere a long way from Penzance. The college found me another placement on a farm where they bred and trained horses and kept pigs. The owner said that if it worked out they would teach me how to ride and jump and all sorts of other exciting things.
‘They’ll teach you a lot here,’ my tutor said before dropping me off, ‘so don’t fuck it up.’
I was a bit wary of the horses to start with, but as I got more used to being around them and grooming them I started to really enjoy the work. My relationship with the family, however, did not go so well. These people were quite posh and so I wasn’t allowed in their house, having to live all the time in a cold caravan in one of the fields; and their daughter, who was about my age, didn’t take to me at all and made sure I knew it. Despite all their promises, they never allowed me to get on a horse, just making me clean out the stables and the pigsties all day long. I tried my hardest to be nice because I really didn’t want to let Carol and my tutor down again, but they were horrible to me and I became more and more miserable sitting alone in my caravan in the evenings, staring out the window at the pitch black of the countryside. They didn’t teach me anything new as they had promised and as the lady before had done.
What I had also not realized was that my tutor had conveniently forgotten to tell them that I had been in trouble. To be honest, they probably wouldn’t have agreed to take me on if he had mentioned it. So when Carol turned up for a visit and they realized I was on probation, they kicked up a right stink.
‘We don’t want him here,’ they told her, ‘if he’s a criminal.’
‘They’re only using me to shift pig shit anyway,’ I muttered. ‘I’ve learned nothing.’
‘Oh!’ The mistress of the house looked as if she was about to faint. ‘You are so ungrateful.’
‘You’d better pack your bags, Joe,’ Carol said sadly, able to see that things were not likely to work out there.
I could see the horror on my tutor’s face the next day when we walked back into his office.
‘It was your fault this time, Ginge,’ I said before he could start having a go.
‘Why?’ he protested. ‘What have I done?’
‘You forgot to mention to them that he was on probation,’ Carol said.
‘Ah,’ he said, reddening. ‘It must have slipped my mind.’
We sat in his office and waited as he rang round everywhere he could think of, but no one had a place for me. I could see he was close to giving up. It was getting dark outside when he finally hung up from a call, looking triumphant.
‘Right,’ he said, ‘I’ve called in a good favour off a chap called Andy. I owe this man a lot, so don’t let me down. He runs an equestrian centre called St Leonards near Launceston. He’s going to come over and collect you now.’
When Andy showed up, I was struck by how gently spoken he was and immediately warmed to him. I wanted to make sure he knew all about me so that he wouldn’t be able to say we had lied to him later.
‘Let’s not worry about anything in the past,’ he said when I explained I was on probation. ‘I’m not interested. We’re going to start afresh from today. Don’t worry about it at all, kid. Come and meet us and see what you think. I promise you’ll learn a lot if you decide to stay.’
Although I liked him, I still wasn’t going to get my hopes up too soon. I’d heard these sorts of promises before, but I knew from the way the farmer in St Just had treated me that there were good people out there who were willing to give me the benefit of the doubt, so I said nothing and went with him.
‘I’ve sorted out a guesthouse for you to stay in,’ he told me as we drove back together. ‘They’re friends of mine, so you’ll be OK. I’ll drop you off there now and come and collect you in the morning, and we’ll show you the ropes. We’ll have some fun.’
By the time we got to the guesthouse, which was really nice, I was feeling as if I had known Andy all my life and I was looking forward to seeing his place the next day. I think he’d taken on a lot of troubled kids in the past and he knew exactly how to handle me. His partner ran the shop side of the business, selling tack and feed and everything else a rider or horse owner might need. The place was always buzzing and busy. All he asked was that I did a good job of whatever he asked me to do, and he would be happy. He was firm but always fair. He handed me over to his stable girl, who was called Claire. She showed me around and introduced me to all the horses, including a stallion that was a complete psycho.
‘Whatever you do, don’t turn your back on him,’ she warned, ‘or he’ll take a chunk out of you.’
The one I liked the best was an old shire horse called Benjamin. He was nearly nineteen hands high. By the end of the first day I had already learned how to put a bridle on a horse, and it wasn’t long before I could saddle up and ride the horses myself, progressing all the way up to galloping. It was the most fantastic feeling to be crashing across the open fields with the wind in my face, feeling so fast and powerful and in control. Claire and I used to take groups out riding virtually every day and I loved every minute of it.
Andy was more than as goo
d as his word about teaching me things and allowing me to have some fun at the same time, and I know there are a lot of other boys like me who owe him more than they can ever repay. People like him don’t get enough credit for the good they do in the world and the difference they make to people’s lives. He showed me so much trust and taught me so much. He built my self-confidence and made me believe that maybe the world wasn’t such a terrible place to live in after all, and that there were some good people out there who wanted to help me rather than abuse me. He was the closest thing to a father that I’d had since the day Dad died, even more than Frank and Matt had been in Lewes prison.
Although I was totally happy there, I decided after a year that it was time to move on and take my new-found self-confidence out into the wider world. I suppose it was a bit like growing up and leaving home again, only this time I was doing it properly rather than running away as I had when I was fifteen. I’d finished my college course and I could have done another one, but I felt I needed to do something different. It was a hard decision and Andy tried to persuade me to stay, but I think he realized I wanted to see a bit more of the world.
‘There’ll always be a job here for you if you change your mind,’ he said as he shook my hand, and even at that moment I still wasn’t sure whether I was doing the right thing or not.
However good they might be to me, and however many friends I might have met in Cornwall, I knew that at the end of the day I still had to make my own way in the world. Kirsty had fallen in love with a nice guy called Gary and I knew I was never going to be anything more than a brother and a friend to her, which broke my heart a little bit. I still wanted to meet someone that I could fall in love with and who would love me back. I wanted to repeat the experience I’d had with Lisa, but this time with someone who would stick with me through the bad times as well as the good, and I didn’t think I was going to meet anyone as long as I stayed in one place, especially working on a farm in the middle of the countryside. Because I had been behaving myself and getting glowing reports from Andy, the courts had agreed to discharge my probation order early. Even my ginger college tutor was happy with me. I went back to St Just and Penzance for a while to see Sue and Gareth and the rest of the family for a couple of weeks before setting off back out into the world.
My whole life was like one long mission to find love. Where, I wondered as I packed my faithful old bag yet again, should I go from here?
Chapter Twenty-One
A Walk On the Wild Side
I decided to try living in Plymouth, just up the coast in Devon. After so long on the farms I fancied the idea of going back to a city, and I also fancied being beside the sea again. A few people had told me it was a nice place and it didn’t seem too far from the family in Cornwall if I felt I needed to go back. I was in a better position than I had been when I first arrived in the other cities, because I had been able to save up a bit of money while I was working for Andy, so I booked myself into a guesthouse for the first night rather than sleeping rough as I had in the past. It felt like progress and made me think I stood a better chance of making a life for myself here.
I was exploring the streets on my own the next day, just as I had done in London and Penzance, when I met Colin, another Scottish guy like Jock, who seemed eager to chat and be friendly. He was a year younger than me and seemed to know the city well and have a lot of time on his hands.
‘I’m looking for somewhere to rent,’ I told him.
‘You can share with me if you want,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a flat.’
His flat turned out to be in a rundown block deep in the heart of the red light district. Both the building and the area around it were full of winos and down and outs, which was fine by me, as I was more than used to such people and didn’t feel threatened. The hookers were everywhere on the street outside, but they soon got to know who lived in the building and didn’t bother to tout for business when they saw us, knowing we had no money, although Colin fantasized about using their services often enough. The women all looked a bit rough to me–nothing like Kirsty or Lisa or the sorts of girls that I was drawn to–but they were always very friendly and chatty.
There was one girl in particular who was often waiting for business on the pavement outside our front door and used to smile at me a lot. Colin knew her, so we got talking. She was called Trisha and lived in the block opposite ours, which was run by the council for single mums and victims of domestic violence, many of whom seemed to have been forced to go on the game in order to make ends meet. Trisha was about twenty-two and already had a baby girl called Amy to support. Colin and I used to go over to visit her sometimes and I realized that Trisha often left Amy on her own when she went out to work, and the child always seemed to be crying.
‘You shouldn’t do that,’ I told her. ‘You shouldn’t leave her on her own. Anything could happen to her.’
Although I had no reason to think Trisha was mistreating Amy as Mum had mistreated me, I still didn’t like the idea of Amy lying in her cot with no one coming when she cried. It reminded me too much of what I’d felt like all those years that I sobbed on my own in the cellar under Mum’s house.
‘I can’t afford to pay babysitters,’ Trisha retorted sharply, making me think that she knew it wasn’t right but didn’t believe she had an option. ‘And I have to work to get food.’
‘I’ll babysit for you a few nights a week if you like,’ I said, quite surprising myself with the offer.
‘Would you do that for me, Joe?’ she said, her whole face lighting up and making me feel pleased I’d spoken up. ‘That would be brilliant.’
Whenever I was left in charge of Amy I would give her bottles and change her nappies and I found I really enjoyed doing it. Sometimes if she wasn’t sleeping I would lie down on Trisha’s bed and cuddle Amy until we both fell asleep, and I would imagine it was my own little baby that I was holding and caring for. Trisha would come back in the small hours sometimes and find us both fast asleep together. If it was a cold night I would just stay there, even once Trisha had come home, and go back to sleep rather than cross the road to go home. Trisha seemed to think it was really nice for a man to be interested in looking after a child and once or twice she suggested we should start a relationship. I did think she was attractive and I really liked her as a friend, but I could never have fallen for someone who was in that line of work. I always remembered how frightened I had been for those few days when I thought I might be HIV positive, and anyway my dream was to fall in love and find my soulmate, which wouldn’t work if my girlfriend was selling sex to other men.
‘You wouldn’t want to give up working, would you?’ I said when she asked if I would go out with her.
‘I can’t give it up,’ she said. ‘Some nights I can make two hundred quid. What else could I do that would earn money like that?’
I was aware that I was mixing with the wrong sort of people if I was hoping to fall in love and make something better of my life. So I got involved with the Plymouth Christian Centre and made a few friends there. I had a nagging unhappiness deep inside me all the time, however hard I worked to distract myself, and I think for a while I was hoping that I would be able to find my way to happiness and fulfilment through God, but it didn’t work. I was still too angry with Him for all the things that he had allowed to happen to me when I was a kid and for the way he had taken Lisa and the baby away from me in such a cruel fashion.
I wanted to work because I had liked the feeling of earning my keep when I was with Andy, but it wasn’t so easy to find a job without the help of Carol and my ginger tutor, so both Colin and I were signing on each week and the hours hung heavy most days. I found that when I had too much time to think my mind always went back to dwelling on my past, making me feel sorry for myself. We went for every job interview we were given but the moment we told prospective employers what part of town we were living in they seemed to lose interest. Under Colin’s influence and without the support and stimulation of Andy, Claire, Ca
rol and the family I went back to drinking to pass the time and kill the pain inside my head. I was smoking pot again as well, which I hadn’t done since leaving the squat. It eased the depression but gradually wore away any chance I might have had when I arrived in the city of getting to grips with life.
One of the elders at the church had a brother who had an antique shop with a Christian café upstairs and I started working for him for a bit of cash, lifting stuff into the van and whatever else he needed doing. There was a joyful old Irish lady called Lulu who used to use the café a lot because it was so cheap and she always made me laugh whenever I was with her. She wasn’t a Christian herself, describing the rest of them as ‘bloody bible-bashers’. She had a son who was a chef and who she didn’t approve of.
‘He’s a bad boy,’ she said. ‘He’s into all these drugs.’
She wasn’t at all happy about me living in the area where I was and kept trying to persuade me to move into her flat with her in St Jude’s, which was a really nice area, but I liked being with Colin and I didn’t think living with an old lady would be the right thing to do if I was hoping to meet girls.
Although I did everything I could to keep myself busy and distracted, the loneliness of not having a loving partner kept on gnawing away at my insides. I had been so happy in my relationship with Lisa and I was terrified that I would never experience that level of happiness again. One night I woke up from a nightmare, drenched in sweat. I’d been dreaming that I was a kid again, locked in a dark room with men coming and going, doing what they wanted to me. As I lay shivering in the damp bed, I felt overwhelmed with misery. It seemed I would never be able to find the sort of love and security that I craved. I couldn’t bear to think about it, so I got up and poured myself a drink, swallowing it in one and pouring another straight away. Even that didn’t numb the pain and I started slashing at my wrists, willing to try anything that might relieve the frustration and tension and misery building up inside my head.