Amelia's Story (Box Set the Complete Series Books 1 & 2) (4 page)

I hated it when she came back drunk in the middle of the night. She would deliberately start banging on my door calling me names and shouting at me, that I was nothing and never would be. I was petrified of her when she was like this as she became so unpredictable. I loved her and disliked her. She was my mother so I know I had to love her, but I could not make sense of how she made me feel and why. I was feeling so bad about myself every single day, but I felt it was deserved for some reason because my mother told me it was.

Jake and I took solace in the fact that we had each other. We were very close and looked out for each other all the time. When things got really crazy we knew if we tried to treat our mother like a princess - offer to do the house work, played very quietly, or even kept Jenny amused for her - then we would get a reprieve for a very short while from her temper, which was worth its weight in gold. We were learning how to detect one of our mother’s episodes, and sometimes this helped us escape a lashing or two, as we would stay out of her way or practically behave like her slave. It was exhausting most of the time, I could barely concentrate at school, there was always so much going on at home it was impossible to focus.

I did enjoy school and discovered very early on that I had a knack for reading and writing and soon enough they became passions of mine and they were the two things I loved to do most. The amount of schooling we missed because we would be pulled out for one reason or another and placed into care was colossal. However, the time I was at school I threw myself into my lessons in a way the other kids did not. This was a deliberate act on my part because I never knew when I would be taken away again, and I wanted to make the most of it as much as I could. Life had been very unkind to Jake and me up to this point and I did not see it getting any better in the foreseeable future either.

Each day became more and more of a struggle, so much so that we were too scared to go into the kitchen if our mother was cooking and in a bad mood, as she would slice the carrots like they were being slaughtered. Knowing how unpredictable she was we were never entirely sure whether or not she would one day use the kitchen knife on us. So this was a cleverly thought out move on our part, we always stayed clear of the kitchen when she was cooking.

The Arrival of Susie

Mother was to announce her fourth pregnancy to us all. I just felt fear and dread run cold through my veins; to me this meant more work, more beatings and more responsibilities. I was only just eight-years-old and already carrying the burden of an adult. The weight that was put on my young shoulders was far too much to bear at times. I knew once this baby was born that life was going to get a whole lot worse for us all. Money was sparse and again during her fourth pregnancy we were placed into care, but this time it was foster care not Colton Hall.

They were not bad foster parents, but not particularly nice either as they were quite strict and slightly removed from the job in hand. But I guess they have to be as to get attached would make it too hard for them to foster, knowing they will have to say goodbye eventually. It was so hard being shifted from one place to the next, you would think that it would be something we would have got used to, but that was not the case. We longed for the lives that other children had with some stability, love, and attention. Jake and I used to talk about how amazing it would be to have a normal life, just like the very children we were staying with at our temporary foster parents.

The children’s rooms were incredible; they had so many toys, the bed sets matched their curtains, and they had their own writing desks upon which to complete their homework. The bedrooms were like fantasy rooms to Jake and
me; we had never seen anything like them before in our whole lives. At first Jake and I thought the foster parents were wealthy, but it turns out they were just a very hard working couple who saved and provided well for their family - but to Jake and me they were millionaires!

We were to remain with our new foster parents until the new baby was born and our mother was into a routine. Jake and I could still not quite warm to our foster parents, part of the reason was that the two children they had were treated very differently to us in the most obvious ways. Although we were not mistreated, it was obvious that we did not belong there, and for that reason did not want to be there.

When we were eventually returned home, it was to a new half-sister, Susie. I could not believe how miniature our half-sister was; she had a shock of black hair, and the tiniest fingers I had ever seen. My time was immediately taken up fetching and carrying for my mother, which I did not mind in the slightest, as it kept mother busy enough for a while and took the onus off Jake and me. My daily job was basically taking care of Jake and Jenny most of the time. Jenny had a large blue and white striped buggy which I used to place her in and take her for a walk around the rough council estate, partially because I wanted to be away from mother but also because mother had some peace and quiet, allowing her time to be focused on Susie. Social Workers were a frequent presence once again, popping in and out at every opportunity, checking on our welfare, and imparting their advice to mother.

By this time, we were now all calling Robert dad, and he was still the fearful man I remember, too afraid of mother, always doing what she told him, no matter how impossible the task. This was making him quite obviously depressed and he was no longer happy, there was rarely a smile from him, and it became noticeably clear to Jake and me that he was suddenly away from home often. We began to see less and less of him and when he was around, he seemed to develop a little backbone. Perhaps being away from mother more often was changing him. They were in each others company a lot less, which meant she did not have that complete hold over him anymore. When Robert was around, it was just pure carnage, the rows became more two-sided as time went on and when tempers flared they reached new heights. Their fights became quite frightening at times, pots and pans would be thrown at each other, our mother’s temper knew no bounds, and I am sure this is one woman that would be capable of raising the blood pressure of a monk. It was not unusual for windows to get smashed during their rows, which would then be boarded up for a few weeks with thick brown carpet tape, until the council came to replace them. As usual, mother knew how to get what she wanted and a few dramatic stories later, the glass was always replaced free of charge.

One day when we arrived home from school we walked into mayhem - there was arguing and screaming - our step-father was packing his bags and preparing to leave. Mother was in such a rage we could see the hatred seeping out of her eyes, so Jake and I grabbed our two sisters and hid in the corner of the living room, as far out of sight as we could possibly get. We were all crying and sobbing uncontrollably, fearful of what our mother was going to do next and which one of us would take the punishment for the latest row. Sadly, Jake and I were only too aware that when she was like this, just about anything could happen and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Jenny and Susie were shaking in our arms as they continued to cry hysterically.

We were eventually sent to our rooms where we were told to remain, so we all sat close together huddled tightly listening to what was our life’s soundtrack coming from below, banging, screaming, swearing, smashing. I was sure this could be heard all the way to the end of the street. Then all went quiet. Sometime later mother came up stairs crying and hugging us all, telling us that our dad had left. She left no detail out during her explicit explanation, which totally shocked Jake and me. We did not believe her at first, knowing that if ever there was a woman fit for amateur dramatics, it was Heidi Sue Thomas. However, on this particular occasion she was right. Our step-father left to begin a new chapter in his life something that shocked us all, not helped by mother’s descriptive way of informing us Robert had left her to be with another man.

Mother had found Robert in bed with another man, and he admitted to being gay without hesitation when asked. During the row that took place before his departure, Robert could be heard telling mother how intolerable she had become and advised her to seek treatment for her temper. Mother was heard shouting expletives into the street for all to hear as usual, while Robert walked away. As much as he had begun to argue back with mother, Robert had the dignity to keep this indoors and did not cave into mother’s attempt to make him vent in public. I respected him for this as I was at an age where I was aware of other people’s attitudes towards our family, by which time I had begun to feel embarrassed about it.

The neighbours were not favourable towards our family in the least and I was now noticing the strange looks we received from them, along with the pointing and staring. Some of the local children were told to keep their distance from us by their parents, due to our foul mouthed mother – something any respectful parent would do.

My relationship with mother became more volatile as I started sticking up for Jake, Robert’s departure had changed me a little and I knew that there was no longer an adult around to defend us. I was now the oldest sane member of this household. It started to become very apparent to me that the way we were being treated was not the norm at all.

I started asking myself a lot of questions: Why us? Why our mother? Were we so bad, was it so terrible having us around? I had no idea why I could do nothing right in my mother’s eyes.

I felt sad most of the time as did Jake; life was just too hard. Although I still feared mother, I told myself that I needed to stick up for Jake when she hit him for no reason, or called him terrible names to humiliate him. Robert leaving mother continued to have a downward effect on her and the atmosphere became tenser in the house. Mother was drinking far more than ever before and she could now tolerate us even less. We were often left outside all day, regardless of weather conditions, only to be allowed back into the house from teatime onwards. We were guaranteed a barrage of abuse when it was time to go in and would once again be made to feel worthless. Another guarantee was an empty bottle of vodka somewhere in the house that mother had devoured.

I remember that one morning mother got up early and informed me I was having my hair cut - and I assumed this meant a trim - but mother had other ideas. I had lovely long dark hair and was very proud of those locks. We went to see a friend of mother’s and she was told to give me a feather cut, it was short, layered and horrible. I hated it. This was done purely out of spite and not because I needed a hair cut. I spent the rest of that day in tears, looking at myself in the mirror my lovely girly locks had gone and to me, I now looked like a boy. Mother smiled and giggled her way through the day, obviously finding it all very amusing. Unsurprisingly all the other kids in our square laughed at me, pointing and staring, it was just humiliating. A friend of mine told me that I still looked pretty, but I know I didn’t. To top it all off, I knew that I would have to face school on Monday morning and no doubt the pointing and laughing would start again. For the next few days, I prayed that my hair would grow back quickly, but that was obviously not going to happen. Monday soon came around and I think building myself up for such a terrible time made the day a little easier - I managed to get through that Monday morning just about, and the other children had moved on from their insults by the afternoon.

Back at home, we soon started to notice the arrival of a man in an R.A.F uniform; he was a very handsome and well dressed man, always turning up at our house armed with bags of sweets and lots of chocolate. We were told to call him Uncle Steven and this was fine with us as he was very pleasant. More to the point, so was our mother when he was around. For Jake and me, mother being so happy was like being in heaven; we were temporarily relieved from our miserable lives. Uncle Steven would take us all into the car park to see his green Ford Cortina; we were not used to seeing cars on our estate, at least not new ones with all the tyres on! We were allowed to sit up front and beep the horn, for that moment in time we were the envy of all the other kids on the estate. I had never felt like that as a child, for all eyes to be on Jake and me in envy, has to be one of my proudest memories. Uncle Steven became a frequent visitor and we all thought he was great. He introduced us to chocolate spread on toast - mmm I loved it! He always came armed with a stack of chocolate spread, which Jake and I thought was the best thing ever, the chocolate jar would be almost clean by the time we had finished and most of it would be all over our faces!

Uncle Steven was on leave for a couple of days and he was staying the night with us. This was the only time we really liked our mother, when he was around. He seemed to bring the best out in her for a reason we did not know and he genuinely seemed to like us kids too, which was a plus point. We all felt so proud when he walked up to our house on a visit, the neighbours curtains would be twitching at the sight of this tall handsome man in his R.A.F. uniform.

Uncle Steven always gave our mother money to pay any outstanding bills and a bit extra so she could stock up on cigarettes and vodka. He was very generous and I thought he was a gift from God. For a while we felt like we were a normal family whenever he was around. Our mother was lovely to us and happy in his presence. We all laughed and joked together; mother would send us out to play for a while during his visit telling us she needed some private time with Uncle Steven. Of course we were happy to oblige and would run outside, sit next to the green Ford Cortina and eating our sweets happily! We would watch over his car protecting it against the thieves which were rife on the estate.

When his visit ended mother would be in a great mood for a while. She even attempted to get up early in the morning and helped us all to get ready for school and occasionally did my hair in my favourite princess style, by now my hair had grown a fair bit, I loved my hair like that. As time went on we had totally forgotten that Uncle Steven was not our real uncle. We had accepted him into the family whole heartedly and wished every time that he did not have to leave. We were fascinated with his stories of the Air Force and all his worldly travels to
Singapore and the like; he was fast becoming our hero. Jake wanted to grow up to be just like him. He talked endlessly of joining the Air Force when he grew up. For a while things at home were quite calm and mother’s temper did not surface very often; she had her moments but they had lessened. Uncle Steven seemed to have a calming affect on her which was for now at least, transforming our lives - a calmer life for us all.

Uncle Steven’s next visit was a month later. We were all dressed in our Sunday best and extremely happy and excited as he had promised presents for us all! I watched for his car at my bedroom window which over-looked the road at the back of the house; I dreamt of him being our new father as we all thought he was perfect. Jake and I talked at length when mother was not around about how lovely it would be to live a normal life and to have a proper family, our mother would be happy and so we would all be happy. Oh how we prayed this would be. I squealed with delight when I saw his green Cortina speeding up the road. As far as Jake and I were concerned this was like a Rolls Royce to us.

I ran downstairs shouting, “He’s here everyone, he’s here.” Mother was excited too, she smiled, asking us all to calm down and to give him time to get through the door before we all jumped on him! It seemed like forever since we had last seen him.

As soon as the door opened (mother had supplied him with a key of his own), we jumped all over him, he looked so smart in his uniform and hat and we were all so proud. Mother told us all to go and sit down while she took him into the kitchen for a chat. She always ensured this was the first thing she did when he arrived. All the red letter bills were displayed in a line on the kitchen counter in order of importance of which he would go through, writing out cheques for each and every one. Once that was out of the way, mother unleashed us on him and we would all sit down listening to his stories while mother cooked a roast dinner.