There is alot more to my story a whole lot more but this is the final installment of my writing.
A While passed and we ended up back in your care, we all moved across the country from Cheshire to Norfolk. New house, estate and school and closer to your father, Roger. Not sure if it was because you wanted to escape the eyes of social services, watching yours and his move. I remember the long train journey, took approx. 8 hours with dogs and luggage it was also a frigging hot day, it was miserable.
I later learnt Elaine and Lawrence had already moved to Great Yarmouth and they were staying with my uncle’s ex-wife and her new boyfriend, apparently mother moved closer to get them back, to me that was a load of bullshit. Our new home was a huge council estate, 3 floors with a kitchen and loo on the bottom, lounge and bedroom on the 2nd with 3 bedrooms and main bathroom on the top floor. It wasn’t nought special, was a bit rough especially as the cat was allowed to piss everywhere to mark its territory, the estate itself was rough with dodgy looking kids everywhere, especially as I was timid. I dreaded starting my new school and wondered how the fuck was I going to fit in with my strong Northern accent. Home life didn’t change much even though the scenery did, in fact it seemed a whole lot worse, even if my grandfather was up the road it didn’t act as a deterrent but then again my grandfather had this saying that I hate ‘ children should be seen and not heard’ he had 5 girls with a women named Jackie, who was the sister of so called ‘father’, he use to slap arses if they didn’t behave but at least I had someone else to play with and he had woods behind his house we use to play about it. At least I could pretend I was in a ‘normal’ family and pretend everything was okay.
The day came to start the new high school, Charles Burrell High school, it was also the school my mother attended herself as a child and a couple of the teachers were still in the school from when she was there. Of course, I didn’t fit, I was this dumb bitch from up North and soon earned the nickname Northern Monkey. I did make some friends, despite being bullied by others, but hey I got to use to the name calling! It happened all the fucking time at home.
God forbid if you were poorly at home, I was practically locked away being fed mackerel until I was better. It was so isolating! I would have coughs that would last for weeks, enough to make me vomit every single time. Most parents would take their child to visit the GP, not you mother. We were made to suffer, no doubt you got off on it though stupid cow. Sometimes it was better to suffer in silence than announce the fact I had a cold or stomach bug, the best way for it as you wouldn’t do anything to help take the pain away.
Every day was the same, up early to walk the 4 mutts before school, even on the weekends. I use to be mortified walking across the estate to the woods in this horrible 2nd hand coat while school kids to see me, this would only fuel the bullying, this would be followed by cleaning the house while you both sat there and watched. You missed a speck of dust you would pay for it, you didn’t move the ornament and dusted underneath you would pay for it. It was a never-ending cycle of grief, I couldn’t do anything right. Life passed in a blur of shit. You mother liked your drink and would spend your dole money on booze while our shoes needed changing or new school uniform. Many times I would come home to an empty house while you were both getting pissed at the pub in town.
Respite came when the people over the road needed a babysitter for their children and they asked me, it meant I got a decent meal and even days outs, but even he was creepy talking about his sex life to me. I was 12/13 years old at the time, which is a little worrying. But it was better than the abuse I was receiving at home.