Amelia's Story (Box Set the Complete Series Books 1 & 2) (27 page)

Re-visiting old ghosts

One day having spent several hours writing up my journal, I decided I wanted to see all my care records. I wanted to have a complete picture, as so many things did not make sense to me and I was curious about what had been documented about me and my brother Jake over the years. I called the head of Social Services in
Shrewsbury and spoke to them about getting access to my records. I already knew that I had a right to them for the next 70 years. I was given a number to call, to arrange a meeting to view all my records. I called the number immediately; a date was fixed for me to visit and I was given an address I recognised. I asked the lady if she was sure she had given me the correct address, she said that she had. Breeton House?

“But that is a children’s home” I
said.

“Yes
, it was once Amelia, but now it is a Social Services records department,” she replied.

I thanked her and put down the phone. I looked at the address in front of me. My heart sank. That was where my siblings and I were separated many years before. That was the children’s home where I last saw my sisters. I recalled once more waving goodbye to them crying hysterically, knowing I would never see them again. I held back the tears and pocketed the piece of paper. I wondered if I was strong enough to go back there, once again to come face to face with Breeton House. Would it still look the same? How would I feel once I was there? I decided to be strong; I needed access to my care records. I needed to know all about my past, even if I came across things that I had no idea about. I wanted to document my own life for me.

The following week I caught the train to Shrewsbury, and then walked the two miles to Breeton House. I had butterflies in my stomach as I turned the corner and the familiar building came into view. I felt strange, I felt nostalgia, and I felt pain. The building looked just the same as I had remembered it. I walked up the long wide drive to the entrance. I pushed open the impressive large oak door, which dated from my earlier recollections, and walked through to the atrium, which was now a reception area. I gave my name and waited for someone to come and collect me.

“Hello, you must be Amelia. I have everything ready for you, my dear. I must say there were an awful lot of boxes to dig out for you. I am guessing it will take you all day and then some to go through that lot.”

I was escorted to an empty office. There were two tables: one was empty and the other one was full of boxe
s‒
my records, case review reports, NSPCC reports, school reports, doctor’s reports, and dental records: it was all there. I was advised that I could not take the original documents, however. I could photocopy what I wanted to take away with me. I spent thewhole of that day wading through all the paperwork, making new discoveries about my family and not good one
s‒
discovering even more horrible things my mother had put us through. The NSPCC reports were especially hard to read. Everything had been documented, even things I had had no knowledge of, and things that maybe I had just forgotten, upsetting things.

I spent the whole day photocopying as many documents as possible, and filed them into the large empty folder I had brought along with me. Against the advice given I also slipped a few original documents into my folder, the ones I thought were the most important, the documents from the NSPCC. After all, they were of no use to anyone else now. I was an adult, and these records were just shelf-space now. Once I was done, I asked if I could walk around the building. I told them I used to live there as a child. They were very accommodating; they made me a cup of tea and a sandwich and let me walk freely around the building.

I felt so sad; so many memories came flooding back to me, the little girl who was brought in late one night, pregnant and scared. Jake and me running away to Sears Hall, to beg the head of Social Services not to split my brothers and sisters up, to beg them to keep us altogether. Then of course the day I was separated from my only remaining sibling, Jake. I broke down completely; it had all been too much to bear, more than I thought possible. I was not strong enough to deal with all the emotion flooding through me like a whirlwind.

I stepped outside for a short while to get some air and compose myself. Then I continued through the building. I had come this far, so I might as well complete this journey. The kitchen was just the same. Unchanged. It was used for the staff now to prepare their lunch. The bedrooms were now used as offices, and the games room was now a board room. One of the office staff came up to me and asked me what was it like to live in a children’s home? I told her that you felt like a bird with broken wings, unable to fly. She smiled at me, and with a tear in her eye she said,

“You are a very brave girl Amelia. It was a pleasure to meet you today.”

I walked back to the train station and headed home. I knew I wanted all the information I come away with, but I was not sure of the purpose. I just had to have it. It was like I was trying to complete an impossible jigsaw, with all the pieces scattered all over the country. Little clues here and there would lead me to the next piece in the puzzle. At that point in my life I had no intention of writing my life story. I was afraid of how it would be received by the people I had lied to about my childhood. I was afraid of being judged negatively by other people, and how they would treat me going forward. So writing my life story was out of the question. I just wanted to document all the facts of my life for myself.

My visit to Breeton House encouraged a visit from my nemesis. This was a long and hard visit, one I was not prepared for, and one that for the first time in my life forced me to pay a visit to my doctors. For the first time in 12 months I called into work explaining that I had a virus and would not be in for the rest of the week. This dark cloud gripped me like no other. I was lower than I ever imagined. I could not lift myself out of my abyss, and I would not confide in Patrick, I just told him I was ill. He accepted it without question. Thankfully, he was going away for a few days, on a work training course, which meant I could deal with this alone and without question.

I sat in front of my doctor, and confessed everything. I briefed him on my life story. I talked to him about my nemesis, and how up until now I had managed my depression with exercise and diet, and I had learned to live with it. That for the most part I was happy these days, and visits from my nemesis were few and far between. Only this visit had been too much for me. I could not cope with it, I was a prisoner of it, and it would not let go of its stronghold. My doctor recommended I try a course of anti-depressants, a fairly new drug called Prozac. I was given a prescription for 40 mg per day. It was immediately effective. He signed me off work for seven days and told me to come back to see him in a month’s time. I felt very uncomfortable about taking Prozac. I had read so much about this drug in magazines, and was nervous about its effects on me; but I felt I had no other option. I went to the chemist, and within five minutes had the drug in my hand. I went home and closed the door behind me. I read the instructions including the possible side effects, and then popped my two pills.

The first day, I didn’t notice much of a difference. But, my goodness, by the second day I was flying; in fact no, I was soaring! I felt amazing. I was a bit spaced out, to say the least, but it was a nice sensatio
n‒
one that made me feel as if I did not have a care in the world, like I could cope with anything. So that’s when my relationship with Prozac began.

During the seven days I had off work, I spring cleaned my house, went ru
nning for miles each day and caught up with my reading. I loved reading so much and I had not read enough of late. By the time I was due back at work I was happy, confident and ready for anything. The pills had taken hold. My nemesis had gone and I was feeling amazing. By then, I had been at
Auto trader
for three years and I was ready for a complete change. So I resigned from my job, giving the company a month’s notice. They were very sad to see me go, and tried to persuade me to re-consider. However, my mind was made up, I had gone as far as I could within the company and was ready for a change in career.

The break up

During that month I applied for a couple of jobs closer to home, the
first one I did not get because of my lack of experience. However, the second one I did get. It was an accounts position working for a local construction company in their head office. It was literally just down the road from where I lived, just perfect. On nice days I could walk to work. It would take me just 20 minutes. This was great. I had got myself a new job, without the long commute into the city and a far higher salary. I could not be happier.

The weekend before I started my new job I went into town and impulsively had my belly button pierced! My
30th birthday was upon me and I wanted to mark it in a special way. I loved my new belly ring, it was a gold diamond stud and it looked amazing. I needed to mark my 30th birthday as this was a milestone, and I was leaving my 20s. Everything was going so well, work-wise and in my social life.

The only thing I was not happy with was my relationship with Patrick. This was new territory for me, as I had always been in a relationship that I never wanted to end. I had been the one who was left heartbroken. However, this time it was me that did not want to be in the relationship; it was me that was not in love with my partner; and it was me that was faced with the awful task of ending the relationship. This was where I discovered something new about myself, I just could not end it, and I did not want to hurt Patrick’s feelings. I attempted to have the conversation several times but I just couldn’t do it. So I remained in the relationship for a further 12 months. During which time we grew further and further apart. Patrick was sociali
sing with his new work friends more and more; I was throwing myself into my new job and writing a few words in my novel whenever I had a spare moment.

I loved my new job; it was like one happy family. Everyone got on with everyone else. The one exception left eventually. I was sociali
sing with the girls at work; we would all go out once a month into town on a Saturday night. All was perfect. I got the company involved in the charity runs that were being organised all over the country called “The race for life” and managed to persuade the office girls to take part. The company sponsored us and paid for us to have T-shirts printed and hats with the company logo on the front. After some time I was given the position of social secretary for the company. This was an unpaid position that was totally separate from my current position in accounts. I chaired a committee and once a month we would get together for lunch, paid for by the company and organised the company’s social events. This could be going to the races; paintballing or bowling, anything that would be good for all ages and involve everyone. I was good at this: a good organiser, and very sociable. So I took to this role perfectly.

Eventually, after many months, I plucked up the courage to end my relationship with Patrick. It was just awful; he did not take it very well at all, which in turn made me feel terrible. I hated doing this to him. But we were not love’s young dream. We had stopped sociali
sing together and barely talked any more. I could not pretend any longer.

Patrick packed his bags that weekend and moved back in with his parents. I felt very sad, but also relieved that I had my house back. I spring cleaned the house, washed all the bedding, and bought two baby kittens that weekend. They were just five weeks old and their eyes were barely open. I called them Pepper and Tiger, for very obvious reasons, one was peppered and the other one looked just like a tiger. I loved them instantly and swore to myself that weekend that no one would move into my house again, unless of course I got married, and I did not see that happening for a long time.

I spent my weekends writing in my journal documenting my life. I had put my novel aside for the time being in favour of getting my own story down on paper. It was like a need in me I had to fulfill. I never told anyone about this; my friends had no idea I was documenting my life story, for the simple reason they had no idea about my true pas
t‒
only the one that I had told them about. I loved spending weekends in my beautiful home. I never really got used to the fact that it was all mine. I would often curl up on my sofa on a Saturday evening with my cats, watching a movie with a glass of wine in hand. I felt like I was really home. I felt happy, secure, and was right where I wanted to be at that moment in my life.

I was thinking about doing a martial arts course as I had always loved the martial arts. I had heard about a local
Kick Boxing class, which took place twice a week. I thought I would look into it at some point and see about joining. All in all, I could not have been happier at this point in my life. It had been a couple of years now since I had asked my mother about Jake, so I decided to try again. However, once again I was met with a brick wall. I could not get a forwarding address out of her. I was finding this really upsetting and had no idea what to do about it. I continued to send birthday cards for Jake to my mother’s house each year for her to pass onto Jake for me. I could only hope that she passed them on to him.

The affair

As far as I was concerned going forward it was just me and the cats. Twelve months into my new job Christmas had come round again. We had all received our yearly bonus and we were all talking about the company ball. I had bought the most beautiful full-length black dress from Coast. I loved it, and the dress was so elegant. I had a new pair of strappy diamante shoes, and had started kick
-boxing to aid my running. The ball was in a posh hotel, and everyone was able to bring their partners too. For those of us who did not have partners we would go with each other, and share a room at the hotel.

The ball was a success. A great time was had by all, and it was the talk of the office for a while after. I really loved this company. I really liked my co-workers and some had become very good friends. I was particularly close to one particular girl called Priscilla. We went to each other’s houses for dinner, often popped to the pub for a drink after work on a Friday and became really good friends. Priscilla was an older woman, far older than me; she was 46, and married with two children. I had met her family on several occasions and really liked them. I would meet up with her occasionally on a Saturday and we would go shopping and then go for a long lunch. It’s true to say I trusted her implicitly. She kind of mothered me at times, and was quite protective of me too. A true friend.

Life coasted along perfectly for a long time. Before I knew it almost four years had passed by. I was still loving my job and was very happy to remain there for the foreseeable future. I had racked up five belts in kick-boxing and passed each one of my kick-boxing exams with a distinction. I loved the martial arts, and found that I was a natural.

Then one day it was announced by the company that they had purchased a new building just around the corner. There were some brand new buildings that had been constructed, and our company had purchased one. Our current old list
ed building was no longer big enough to cater for the ever growing workforce, so a move was imminent. Many of us were saddened by the move, as it was to bring two of the holding companies under the same roof, doubling the workforce and also changing the dynamics completely. I think many of us felt that it would never be the same company again. It was going to be less personal, more professional, and overall a less enjoyable place to work.

However, we all went a long with it, as we had no choice in the matter. Before the move a night out had been arranged locally. A couple of the directors came: the HR manager and the head of the accounts department. We all went to the
Cosley Hotel for a three-course dinner. That night I noticed a spark between my friend Priscilla and one of the directors. I saw they were holding hands under the table, which surprised me immensely. I never knew Priscilla was like that. I thought she was happily married. What about her family? I never mentioned what I saw that night. But the next time I went for a drink with her I brought the subject up.

“Priscilla, I hate to ask and if I am on the wrong track then I am sorry, but is there something going on between you and Ben?”

Priscilla went quiet for a long time. Her eyes were red and water-filled; then she nodded.

“Amelia, please don’t tell anyone, Yes, I’m having an affair with Ben.”

I was stunned; Ben was practically 60-years-old. He was the least popular director. He was very sneaky and had got a lot of people into trouble or worse, sacked, often shifting blame on to others, where it was not deserved. I did not see the attraction at all. Priscilla was married to a lovely man who doted on her; it made no sense to me. However, it was her life, her choice; she was a grown woman of 46. This affair went on for some time. Eventually, Priscilla told Ben that I knew about them, and that I would tell no one.

One day
, Priscilla approached me and asked me if she could use my house one lunchtime to meet Ben, as it was just up the road from our offices. I reluctantly agreed, but only because he was a director and my job was in his hands. After that secret meeting at my house, it became a weekly occurrence. They would leave separately at lunchtimes and meet in secret at my house. It was never meant to be a regular thing. I no longer wanted them to meet at my house, but I did not know how to tell them. I was afraid that Ben may turn on me or make my life difficult at work. Eventually, that’s exactly what happened.

Twelve months down
the line I told them I no longer wanted them to use my house. That their secret was safe with me; however, they needed to find somewhere else to meet as I did not feel comfortable with the arrangements. As I feared, this did not go down to well at all. At work Ben started to ignore me, he started making my life difficult in meetings. I used to chair monthly finance meetings as I was chief credit controller. It was my responsibility to get in the money owed to the company from other housing organisations. This could be anything up to several million pounds. I was also responsible for the payroll accounts. Each month I had to update the directors, Ben included, of the funds collected and money outstanding, why some companies had not paid and what their issues were. I had to provide reports and graphs and sometimes the meeting could go on for ever. It was in these meetings that Ben started to do his best to make me look incompetent. His attitude towards me was unacceptable, and generally he was succeeding in making my life hell at work.

My friend Priscilla had become less friendly, and kept her distance from me. It soon became apparent that Ben was not comfortable with the fact I knew about him and Priscilla. One night after work, Priscilla stopped me in the car park. She looked very serious and then said,

“Amelia, you do know if you lose your job there is nothing I can do about it, don’t you?”

I was stunned; it took me a minute to understand exactly what she was saying.

“What are you saying Priscilla? Do I need to be concerned for my job right now?”

“I am just saying that whatever decisions Ben makes has nothing to do with me. Anyway, I can’t drop you home tonight as I am going the other way, goodnight Amelia.”

And with that she climbed into her car and drove off. She had the following week off work. I went home that night and I felt sick. I was panicking, I was going to lose my job, all because my friend was having an affair with the director of the company, and it no longer suited him for me to know about it. I knew this had all stemmed from me not allowing them to use my house any more. Nothing had been the same since. I could not lose my job. I had a mortgage to pay, bills to pay, I had no family to run to if things went wrong. I had no one to borrow money from, should I run out of money and no longer be able to pay the mortgage. I loved my house so much I was not going to lose it because of someone else’s stupid affair.

I phoned my manager that night. We were also very close. She was very good to me. I confided everything to her and my concerns about my job too. Although she believed me, it was very hard for her to believe what I was telling her because this involved Priscilla. My manager’s husband and Priscilla’s husband were close friends. I was told not to worry and to say nothing for now. Over the next couple of weeks, Jeanie watched Priscilla and Ben closely; she was not sure what to do either. This was huge; she had noticed how Ben’s treatment of me had changed. There was also something happening behind the scenes that I was not aware of, that made my confessions believable.

Priscilla and I worked very closely together, but we were no longer talking. It was so uncomfortable at work. Another colleague confided in me, told me to watch my back, and that my job may well be at risk. No more details were given. That was it. I could no longer deal with the stress of it all, and I was not going to be sacked because of other people’s wrong doing. So the following day I went to my doctors; I told them I was under immense pressure at work and that I was being forced out of my job. He signed me off for one month with work-related stress. My manager came to visit me; she was so kind and very worried about me. She took my sick note into HR and I waited for their visit to my home.

A couple of days later a lady from HR came to see me at my home. I explained everything from the beginning. Priscilla and Ben were having an affair; I described how I kept their secret and how they used to meet at my house. But most importantly how everything went wrong once I stopped them using my home to meet. HR was not surprised at all, I don’t know how they already knew about the affair, but they did. They had been seen before. They said that my story completed a jigsaw for them, and that it made complete sense now why Ben was hell bent on getting rid of me. I felt instantly relieved. I felt believed. I truly thought I would have a battle convincing them of my story; however, that was not the case.

Nevertheless, the whole thing was kept hush, hush from the office workers. Although they were aware something was going on between me, Priscilla and Ben, I don’t think they knew any details. Eventually HR and the other directors spoke with both Priscilla and Ben separately. They each denied the affair, of course. However, very surprisingly Priscilla handed in her resignation and just left the company. Ben was due for retirement in a year or two, and I was asked to come back. I told them that there was no way I could ever work in the same company as Ben. I was offered another solution to this problem. If I took a redundancy package of £8,500 plus my salary paid into my account for the next three months. I would have to sign a legal document which meant I had to keep my lips sealed about what had happened. Basically a gagging order. I accepted the offer, the tax free money of £8.500 was paid to me by cheque the following week and I continued to receive a salary for the following three months.

Nevertheless
I was without a job, a job I had loved. I also knew that many people within the company had no idea of the truth of the situation, and believed me to be at fault. I don’t blame them though. In their situation I would have thought exactly the same. Whatever rumours went around were most definitely not in my favour, that’s for sure. The worst of it was I was unable to talk to anyone about what happened, so I had to let it go. This was an awful time for me, although money was not an issue, as I had some savings as well as the redundancy money, I was once again visited by my nemesis and sunk deep into my darkness once again. I could not believe this had happened to me. I had been a friend; I had kept their dirty secret, and this was how I was repaid. I always knew Ben was a ruthless man. The stories I had heard about him over the years were unbelievable. As soon as I no longer served a purpose to them I was thrown aside and treated like rubbish that needed to be swept away. This hurt a lot.

After about a month I decided to pick two countries I wanted to visit and book two separate holidays. I thought this was just what I needed. I would travel alone and find my confidence once again, which was at an all time low at this point. I booked a four-day break to the European city of
Prague, a place that was on my “To visit” list. I had once seen a beautiful picture of people standing on the famous Charles Bridge looking up to the sky as it was snowing down on them. This was a magical scene, and one that I wanted to make real for myself. Charles Bridge is a stone Gothic bridge that connects the Old Town, Mala Strana. It was actually called the Stone Bridge during the first several centuries. This was the most visited place in Prague and on my “Must visit” list also.

I also booked a luxury all-inclusive seven-day holiday to
Fuerteventura, for a week of total relaxation and pampering. The short break to Prague I went on almost immediately, and had an amazing time. It was early February and extremely cold in Prague. Just as luck would have it, snow was also forecast during my stay. On the second day of my visit I put on my Timberland boots and waterproof jacket as it had been snowing heavily the night before. I had jeans and layers of tops on. I popped on my gloves and hat then headed off towards the famous bridge. On arrival at the Charles Bridge, I was immediately in awe of the place. It was truly an incredible site. The bridge was extremely wide, there were people selling hot mulled wine and roasted chestnuts along its length.  I bought some mulled wine and stood in the centre of the bridge looking over the side, when all of a sudden it started snowing; I looked up and smiled from ear to ear! That was an amazing day for me and another tick of my wish list. I came back feeling revitalised and less depressed.

The second holiday was all paid for but not due until almost ten months later. I thought it would be nice to have a holiday to look forward to and plan for throughout the year. I was beginning to like travelling alone. It was refreshing, and it made me feel adventurous. So that was two more foreign countries ticked off my “To visit” list.