(Freelance book / Author Reporter
London (UK) Washington (U.S.A)
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“A young innocent little boy put into the “Care System” for NO reason. I was only a child and did no one any harm; thank you “Mother” for ruining my childhood. Every foster home and care home we went to we feared we would never see our dad or sisters ever again, we thought they would never be able to find us.
Somewhere inside me, I just wanted to be loved like every other little boy, but my dreams were long to come.
Don’t let the care system beat you
Beat the care system and live your dreams.
9
This is the book some of my family wanted to ban but here it is a gripping true story which will have you thinking “This cannot be true”
well it is, every single word. This is only a small Insight into “The world of Kev”
This is the only way I can move forward with my life, I need closure. So in order for me to adapt this book to suit others needs I have not mentioned any names of my family or others in this book only the ones who gave me permission for legal reasons. You all know who you are.
My sisters are only mentioned as sisters and another person as lodger / boyfriend 10
The reason I wrote this book was to help me to come to terms with my troubled childhood. It never really used to bother me as such, but felt I had a lot of anger for my mum. This happened mostly when I saw her, sometimes in the market, sometimes in the village. Growing up my parents always went to markets and used to visit the car boot sale quite regular. I used to go with my dad and over a period of time got to know various people of who knew my parents.
I don"t really have thoughts of my mum but what angers me is the fact that I haven"t seen her in a few years and realise that I don"t have a mother, son relationship. She would tell as I have been told by various people on market stalls and in the area of Huyton that she sees me a lot, this is a not true.
11
My mum believe it or not has quite a few friends she sees everyday, whilst out shopping.
I saw my mum one day in a local market and I just followed behind her, she was browsing at a few stalls, she would speak highly of her family to the people on the stalls, but what I couldn"t believe was that she would speak about me doing the garden and making out I visited her 2
or 3 times a week. I have witnessed my mum doing this on many occasions and I feel very angry and upset at such blatant lies. She makes herself look like a loving, caring mother, which sadly she certainly is not. The people who run the stalls also knew me as I went to the same places she went because I was obviously from the same area. The people from different stalls would tell me the tale my mum had told, and sometimes I went along with it, but as time passed I decided to tell them that the stories she 12
tells were not true and that I hadn"t seen her in years.
I feel so hurt that I know now deep down my mother does not feel or show any love to me whatsoever. I got put in care as you will read this true story of my childhood days.
The other reason, the main reason I wrote this book is for me to try and put the past behind me and move forward with life the best I can.
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Brief Background History My mum was a very slight woman, she had black shoulder length hair which was always neat and tidy, and she always dressed well.
My mother got a job as a silver service waitress in the Adelphi Hotel which is situated in Liverpool City Centre. My dad also worked there.
My dad was always happy go lucky and I have been told by one of my aunties that my dad had wavy black hair and was always smiling. I don"t have any photographs of my dad at a younger age so I can only go by what people tell me. My dad worked in the kitchens of the hotel this is where my parents met and started seeing each other.
The relationship developed and they set up home together in Hurst Gardens also situated in 14
Liverpool. My mum and dad were apparently inseparable so I have been told; my parents were going out with each other for 10 years before they actually decided to tie the knot. The wedding took place at Brougham Terrace (Registry Office) on 06.12.1957.
After a period of time my mum fell pregnant with her first child, this was a baby girl, then she went on to have another 4, they were also girls.
Obviously because the family was growing, my parents decided to move. They moved to a 3
bedroom semi detached council house in Huyton, Liverpool. In the year of 1966 I was born, my parents, one and only boy. My mum went on to have another child, again another girl. So basically I was the only boy and had 5
sisters. My parents set up home as best as they could. But things didn"t work out as you read on and this resulted in my mum and dad splitting 15
up and filing for divorce, they got divorced on the same date as they married, obviously a different year, the year being 1973. People fall in and out of love at the drop of a hat some are lucky in love and some are not, I think my dad was lucky to get away from my mother very lucky.
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“LIVERBIRDS”
“LIVERPOOL”
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This book is dedicated to my Father Roger Slater who sadly passed away in the year 2000.
Dad you made me get through my ordeal and I love and miss you more and more each day.
You were not just my father you were my friend, my saviour. The words on your gravestone say “you are simply the best” and that you were. Everybody loves their parents, well I loved my “parent” he was a great guy, funny, witty. The type of person you could trust in an hour of need, the loving parent that opened his door when others slammed them in my face.
There is not a day goes by that you"re not in my thoughts. Sleep well dad and look over me in my life ahead.
I did have a book out last year which was published in U.S.A. and UK, the title was 18
“Facing the future,” it did really well and I got astonishing reviews which really was done from my memory when I was a child but now I have managed to get hold of my files from Social Services and I was so shocked to discover what really happened to me in my life. It has really upset me and I need to do this to get it out of my system.
The first book was only a guess of years, even though it was factual, the trauma I lived through, so many changes, instability, emotional and traumatic stress involved, I didn"t know the half of what had happened up until May 2009
when I received my files. Some of my siblings have files too, however they have chose not to see theirs which debilitated me from seeing everything what happened, as some parts of my files are blanked out to protect their privacy, but I would rather know the details that have been 19
blanked out. I understand why they do not want to view their files it is very emotional but I needed to, it was getting me down and the suspense was at an all time high. I have the files and have studied them over and over again, and to read that you were owned by the Local Authority is very hurtful. I have learned to deal with my emotions even though this book has brought them all out again, the feelings of being let down, hurt, I just couldn"t believe what had happened. The first book when you think of it now, if you have read it, was nothing compared to this book. My files have been incorporated in this book, so read on.
20
The Car Accident
My name is Kevin Slater. I was born on the 19th June 1966. I"m an adult now and this is a true story of my life as a child growing up in Huyton, Liverpool, England. Huyton is a small community, most people are friendly there. I lived on a long main road in a three bedroom house. I grew up with 5 sisters, no brothers. I don"t recall when I was a baby but I have been told by my sisters I was as good as gold and my mum would dress me and sit me in the pram outside on our front path in the garden, watching the cars go by. My sisters used to play with me while my mum was putting the tea on or cleaning the house. There were about two years between me and my sisters. My mum 21
worked at a local laundrette to make extra money for her family. My sisters did do some chores whilst she was at work and looked after the younger members of the family. Obviously, I was only a baby and these memories and details are from various members of my family.
I went to a nursery and on the first day when I was all ready and standing in the nursery I knew my mum was going to leave me there, so I took my shoes and socks off and was pulling at my mums arm asking her not to leave me, I was sobbing, tears flowing down my face. The teacher spoke with my mum in private and told her to leave me and that all children feel this way on the first day, and said I would be fine when she comes to pick me up. Eventually I settled in well, I don"t think I cried for my mum after that no one has ever mentioned this to me before so I must have been fine. I was happy 22
and made friends whilst I was there. I would paint pictures and play in the sand, so I"ve been told. This one particular day I came home with my mum and when we arrived home, my sisters wanted sweets from the local mobile van which was on the other side of the road. My mum decided that she would treat us, this didn"t happen every day but on the rare occasion. The mobile van sold all kinds, bread, milk, cigarettes, sweets, etc. Two of my sisters decided to take me along with them. They took a hold of my hand and began to cross the road when I let go of their hands as I was excited about getting my sweets, and being that age was hard to keep hold of as most boys that age. I ran into the road and got hit by a car; it wasn"t my sister"s fault. Even though I was very young, I remember being hit by the car and lying at the side of the kerb, my sisters were screaming and 23
I can remember a lot of people looking down at me. I could hear my dads voice in the crowds pushing through to get to me, he picked me up very gently holding me in his arms, they say children can remember events in their childhood; this I can remember very clearly, that day will never leave me. I was looking up at my dad as he is cradling me in his arms; I was scared, crying, maybe I was in shock. More neighbours and bystanders crowded around me and my dad, his shirt was covered in blood which was pouring out of my head, the blood was a very deep red, I could feel the blood running down my face. I remember looking at my dad he started to cry, but at the same time he was wiping the blood out of my eyes and my face. The people surrounding me, I could hear them crying too, young and old. I could hear mumbling in the background. I once again 24
looked up at my dad and then I must have passed out as I don"t remember anything after that. I was hit by the car with such force I was rushed to hospital and had a 50 / 50 chance of living. My mum and dad visited me every day during my lengthy stay in hospital. I eventually pulled through; I had a fractured skull which left a permanent dent in my forehead. I had a seven inch scar on my forehead following the accident, I had thick black hair so nobody really noticed it, I wasn"t bothered at the time I was only a young boy, 3 years of age.
It doesn"t bother me at all now.
After coming out of hospital everything seemed fine, but I did get a visit from a community nurse every day for about 12 weeks to change the dressing on my head and check that I was okay. Every day I knew the nurse was coming but I used to hide and cry under the table in the 25
living room because I was scared and it hurt so bad when she would peel the bandage from my head, but I did know that I had to have it done and my mum would shout at me and tell me to come from under the table, eventually I did.
I was coming to the age of starting infant school and due to the injury on my forehead following the car accident I missed a lot of nursery days and was looking forward to going to school. I did go for regular checks at the hospital, but every time my mum asked could I go back to nursery they said not at that moment in time.
Then one day a nurse said that the scar was healing better and the skin was starting to grow and become tougher I was sent to see the specialist for a second opinion and when my mum asked the specialist could I start school in September this time he said yes and also said that I was now fit and well.
26
My Second Head Injury
I started infant school, my uniform was clean and pressed and my mum polished my shoes, they were all shiny. I went along to the school with my mum and my sisters.
I met my friend at school who lived next door, I was made up I knew somebody. I didn"t know he was going to be there, I had somebody to play with. After school sometimes we would 27
play out. I loved playing out just a normal boy playing in mud and playing football and other games. But when it rained I had to stay in but so did my friend so I didn"t really mind.
Every day I was up for school no problem I looked forward to going there, as my mum and dad argued all the time and it was upsetting, they used to say cruel words to each other and my sisters also were upset. So school was a good place to be instead of listening to my mum and dad.
My sisters would take turns in picking me up from school and we would walk home. It wasn"t that far away from our house but we did have to cross the main road, the same road I had the car accident on. So my sisters did feel scared but made sure every time they had hold of my hand very tight. I was scared as well, and don"t think I would have let go as I had learnt my lesson the 28
hard way. We would return from school and my mum would be in the kitchen preparing food for our tea, I would play out with my friend in the street just outside our house. My dad just used to be out and about until tea time.
One day we came home from school and my mum and dad must have been arguing as my mum was in a bad mood. My dad again was out and about and I entered the kitchen where my mum was cooking on the stove. I asked my mum where my dad was. My mum was cross with me, but she didn"t say nothing, she just turned around, stared at me, and she then threw a fork at me, out of the blue, the fork stuck in my forehead, I was screaming with the pain, holding my head in my hands. I was looking at my mum through my tears and wondering why she had done this. I could see the panic upon her face. I don"t know why she threw the fork at my 29
head; I only asked where my dad was? My sister was present at the time and she remembers to this day my mum pulling the fork out of my forehead. I was only 4 years of age. The blood was running down my face, my mum cleaned me up and she told me not to say anything to my dad or anyone because she said the fork slipped out of her hand, she was nice to me for the rest of the day, but I could see the worry on her face.
I didn"t tell anyone because I was terrified of what she would do to me, so I kept quiet. My sister didn"t every mention it either, because she was scared too. My scar from the car accident was healing nicely, it was such a shock that my mum could do this to me; it was only months since I got out of hospital. As you are aware I have a scar from my car accident and now I have a second scar from my own mother.
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We all settled down to have our tea, things were okay, but then one of my sisters asked me what was wrong with my head, as it was all red and swollen with a plaster on it, where the fork had stuck in, I don"t know if I needed stitches or hospital treatment, I was too young to understand. I told my sister that I banged my head in school; my mum"s eyes were peering at me across the table. My heart was beating fast and I couldn"t eat my food properly. But then it all got to me as I was only a little boy and started crying at the table, I didn"t know what to do or to say, I knew I would get battered if I said anything, my sister who also witnessed my mum throwing the fork was sitting there in the chair, she was rolling her food around her plate, not putting any in her mouth just playing with it, she was scared too. I didn"t finish my meal because I was too upset, but I just made up an 31
excuse and went upstairs to my bedroom. I couldn"t go out, I wasn"t allowed because I thought I had been naughty, but now I know it was my mum who didn"t want me to go out as people would ask me about my head. My dad soon returned home and I ran down the stairs to see him, I was so glad when he put his key in the front door, he walked in and I threw my arms around my dads waist, my dad asked me what was the matter because I was crying and I couldn"t get my words out.
My dad asked me to slow down and take a deep breath, eventually I calmed down. I then tried to tell my dad what had happened, we were still in the hallway I still had my arms wrapped tightly around him, I was trying to whisper about what had happened so my mum couldn"t hear. My dad told me to go and play out in the back garden. I could hear my dad shouting at my 32
mum about what she had done to me. My dad said to her that he should report my mum to the police, but he didn"t want to upset the other members of the family. He warned my mother and told her that if she ever touched me again she would be reported to the police.
The arguing continued until the early hours. I went to bed as did my sisters; I put the pillow over my head to drown out the constant arguing.
33
Upstairs/Downstairs
My mum and dad were not getting on at all. I noticed that the arguing was getting worse and was happening almost every day. My dad decided to live upstairs in the front bedroom, my dad didn"t want to leave us with my mum because he knew of her wicked ways, and this is why he chose to live upstairs, so he could keep an eye on us. It wasn"t easy back in those days 34
to get a flat and set up somewhere else to live, so for now my dad wanted to be upstairs to be out of my mum"s way, but to be near his kids.
I couldn"t bring friends back to the house or even play with them outside, I felt embarrassed with the noise. I used to return home from school and as I got nearer to the front door the shouting became louder and louder, it was unbelievable. The neighbours could hear and anyone passing, people walking passed would slow down their pace to see what was going on; it was so embarrassing for me and my sisters.
To stop the neighbours from hearing the shouting, I whistled or sang loud enough so they wouldn"t hear it, but of course they did. I know that my mum must have loved my dad one time but they both lived separate lives, there was no love left between them. You could see the hatred in my mum"s eyes when she looked at 35
my dad. I know my dad in a funny way loved my mum, and he told me that which made me so sad but I never told my mum.
I feel and know that I never got any love or attention from my mum, she was cold, but my dad was different he was the best dad in the world, he always gave me attention and we would have talks about all kinds of things. My dad used to make me laugh. My mum was wicked, I can"t remember her being nice to me or giving me love like a mum should. My mum just did chores around the house and made sure that we had our tea on time that was about it.
She could be nasty, it wasn"t just me she was nasty to; she was also nasty to some of my sisters.
My mum didn"t get on with our family as such, we were her children but she didn"t really like us, she didn"t do what other mums do, ask about 36
what we had at dinner time, what did we do at school today, etc. She didn"t have an interest in that sort of thing at all. I know this now because when my child comes home from school she is asked all of these questions, the questions I was never asked, its little things that come back to you when you are actually parenting yourself. I do understand that parents do make mistakes I have made many mistakes as parenting is the toughest job of all but my mum again as I have said before was not the maternal type, I have so much love and devotion for my family. I didn"t feel that from her during my childhood sad to say, and I don"t feel anything for her now apart from anger.
37
Daddy"s Left Home
Almost every night one of my sisters would make a cup of tea and take it up to my dad, they would sneak it up to him, night after night, but unfortunately one time my sister got caught creeping up the stairs and my mum threw her down the stairs with such force she had broke my sisters arm. My sisters didn"t get on with my mum sometimes either and she on several occasions threw one of my sisters out on the 38
streets and she had to sleep in the alleyway. She didn"t have anywhere else to go and some nights if she didn"t say sorry to my mum she had no option but to sleep outside. It was cold and dark my sister had nowhere to turn.
We were all children and we didn"t know what to do. We would try and persuade my mother but she wouldn"t listen, we would plead with her “Please mum she will be good, its cold outside and you should let her in, please mum.”
A police station was at the top of our street, my sister would go to the police station, and tell them what had happened, the police would bring her home and my mum would open the door as if nothing had happened and say she didn"t know what my sister was going on about and would lie to the police. My mum would talk in a very calm manner and say that my sister was being silly. She would say to her “Get in, and 39
stop wasting police time.” My mum would then apologise to the police for wasting their time.
My sister would sob for hours, her skin as cold as ice, her hair felt damp with cold but she warmed up eventually, my other sisters would rub her back and make her a hot drink. The police would leave our house and my mum would kick my sister out again. Eventually my mum would let her in, but to stay out of my mum"s way she would hide in the airing cupboard in the kitchen, so my mum could not find her.
My mum could be horrible, I wished she was like my friends mums but she wasn"t, but she made out to every one of her friends that she loved us and had loads of time for us, this isn"t true. I feel very angry about this because in my eyes she was fooling everybody she knew in our community. Everyone was convinced that my 40
sisters and me were loved and cared for, but we all lived on our nerves.
My dad had to cook his food on the fire, which was in the front bedroom. I went upstairs to see my dad every day I came home from school to stay out of my mum"s way and keep him company. My sisters would also spend time with my dad, we all loved him, even though they would get caught on occasion bringing him a cup of tea they still took the risk. My dad never had anything, just this little fire. He would cook food in a pan on two bricks placed on the small fire in between and on occasion the pan would fall on the fire and ruin his meal. My mum didn"t know about this but when she found out he was cooking food upstairs she was furious and would wait until she could hear him preparing food – she would bang on the wall in 41
the living room so the soot from the chimney would drop onto his food.
It was clear that things were not working out and the situation was getting worse. My dad spoke of moving out and explained that me and my sisters could spend time with him when he set up home somewhere, I was upset because I didn"t want him to and I was sad, I was too young to understand and did worry about this.
My dad could not use the downstairs kitchen or living room as my mum would put locks on the food cupboards and take the knobs off the gas cooker so he could not cook food, whilst she was out.
My sisters and me would just take every day as it came. We went to school every day and would come home and dread what was to happen next.
One day I came home from school and my dads arm was scalded - his skin was red raw, I was 42
upset and asked my dad what happened, he would say “Don"t worry son, everything will be okay,” I was told by one of my sisters that my mum had put some water in a pan and boiled it and then threw the full pan of boiling water over my dad in anger, she aimed it at his face and my dad put his arm up to protect his face, he put a cold wet towel over his arm, to ease the pain and reduce the blisters, but if he never put his arm up to protect his face, he would have burned his face. When I heard what had happened I wanted to go and hit my mum I felt angry, I started to cry and I was shouting down to my mum asking why she had done it, I was screaming and swearing at her I hated her for hurting my dad like that.
I have no memories of my dad hitting my mum ever and I mean that from the bottom of my heart. Another time I returned home from school 43
and my dad"s leg was covered in blood, there was screaming and shouting, one of my sisters told me my mum had stabbed my dad in the leg with a kitchen knife and had also slashed the mattress on his bed, I couldn"t believe it, I was crying, my tears splashing down on my stained uniform, my sisters were upset too, when they came home from school.
The neighbours took us in to their house until things calmed down. The noise was unbearable, my sisters and I would put our hands over our ears in an attempt to block out the noise. It felt as though it would never end, banging, throwing, smashing, and shouting. In the end the noise got quieter and quieter and it sounded like my dad"s footsteps climbing the stairs, that was when my mum knocked saying it was okay now and that we should all go back home as it was late. My dad didn"t go to the police but he went 44
to hospital to be checked over, he had to get 28
stitches in his leg, why I asked myself did he let her get away with it, but I didn"t say this to my dad he just wanted a peaceful life. He told me not to worry and said it didn"t hurt him but I know he was just saying it to make me not get upset, he knew how much I loved him. I just stayed with him all night in his room because I was upset for what my mum had done. I couldn"t stop crying but my dad kept reassuring me that everything would be okay. I felt so safe staying with my dad. I cuddled into him all night and I can remember waking up during the night asking him was he okay, he smiled and just put his arms around me. That was a horrible night.
My dad stayed out the following day to keep the peace, he told me he was doing this so I didn"t worry about where he was going and was a bit 45
more settled in my mind thinking that when I get home from school everything would be okay. Things were a bit better after that but the atmosphere wasn"t good but at least it was silent that was something I suppose.
One of my sisters came into the house and told my mum that a neighbour had shouted at her, my mum went outside, picked up a house brick and threw it through the neighbour"s window.
She also assaulted another neighbour who lived just a few doors away but I don"t recall why.
My mum"s behaviour was erratic at times, you just didn"t know when she would flip, and it was frightening at times. As children we all lived on our nerves. Eventually my dad left home and got his own flat, I was so glad he did, but I missed him so much every day. I was wishing every day that I could live with him, and all my sisters, but it wasn"t as easy as that. I couldn"t 46
sleep at the best of times but I couldn"t sleep at all when he left. I used to go into the room where he slept and lie on his bed even though my mum had changed the bedding, I still used to go in there and smell his pillow and soak up the atmosphere to pretend he was still there.
My dad moved locally about ½ a mile away from my mum"s house. He lived in high rise flats, Woolfall Heights in Huyton. His flat was on the 11th floor and when we looked out we could see all over Liverpool. We could see as far as the welsh mountains from his flat. The view was amazing, breath taking and the change of scenery from my mum"s did me and my sisters the world of good. I used to visit every time I could; we all did me and my sisters.
47
I would get closer to my dad"s and would get excited, and as I got nearer to my dad"s front door I would get a warm feeling inside. It was such a relief to get away from my mum, even if it was only for a couple of hours, it was something.
He got access to me and my 5 sisters every Sunday 2.00pm – till 4.00pm, he made us all a roast dinner and home made cakes. When 48
visiting my dad he seemed to be relieved and comfortable in his own place. My dad had a peaceful look about him, he was settling in very nicely. My mother stopped my younger sister visiting my dad, she lied to my little sister Maureen and told her that he didn"t want to see her, she poisoned her mind for years and she never saw him again until she had her first child.
She was scared of what he would say to her about not going to see him and upsetting my mother, but eventually she went to visit him and my dad was so happy he was crying with joy of seeing his baby daughter again, and his grandchild.
She told him everything of what my mother had told her and she was glad to see him, she missed him so much but she was confused of what lies my mother had told her of him over the years.
49
The flat was really cosy and we would all chat as a family around the table until we had to go back to my mum"s.
50
„Who"s The Daddy?"
My mum got a lodger/boyfriend, not long after my dad moved out to his flat. I"m saying boyfriend because he was 25 years younger than her. We all felt ashamed of this and she made a show of us all going out with a man so young, he was not that much older than my oldest sister.
My mum never treated the lodger / boyfriend the same as my dad, no he got his tea on the table, even before we did. They both shared a room and the lodger / boyfriend was treated like a king. But my mum also gave him my bedroom; I went mad when I found out. I never had anywhere to sleep; it was with my sisters or on the couch in the living room. How could my 51
mum do this to me, I"m her flesh and blood. The man was nothing, only a bully. Who the hell did he think he was? The lodger/boyfriend ruled the house, I lived in fear of him, he made his presence known, and he would stare at me but didn"t say a word. This was my home and now the lodger / boyfriend had taken over the house where my family lived, and also took my bedroom. He would watch every step I made, the atmosphere was nothing I had experienced before, and it wasn"t nice at all. Time went on, I just got on with things day to day, and at least I could go to my dads when I wanted to. Three of my sisters had now left home and two sisters and I where left to live with the witch (my mother). That"s when things got worse she used to shout and scream at me and my sister, she would take her anger out on us because my dad wasn"t there anymore, but my younger sister 52
was the favourite and got called “My Maureen.”
This made me and my sister feel rejected so hurt by my mother, it wasn"t my little sister"s fault.
Mum"s boyfriend did not like us, he did not want us in the house, he used to say things that weren"t true, not to us but to my mum, he never spoke a word to us ever, he would lie to my mum and she would believe him, we could hear him telling her tales that were not true. The lodger / boyfriend had a very deep powerful voice, so different to my dads. He would walk around the house thinking he owned it. When I look back now of him I think, what an idiot.
53
Me and my sister were in the house one day playing upstairs, the lodger / boyfriend was also in, my mum was out. He knew we were in the house, as always if he was upstairs we were downstairs but this day we were in our bedroom. We heard the lodger / boyfriend coming up the stairs.
Me and my sister were terrified and hid under my bed, he crept up the stairs, there was silence, my heart was beating fast, with every step he took we waited in anticipation, nerves were building up, I could feel my sisters skin perspiring with fear and I could feel her shaking as I was next to her under my bed, he entered the bedroom and we saw his big feet standing by the bed, we could see him from under the bed and me and my sister grabbed each other to 54
hold onto in fear, he knew we were there, and he said to us in his powerful deep voice “Come out or I will shoot you!” we looked at each other and I took a big deep breath and we both crawled from under the bed on all fours. We stood up and at this point we both started crying, we were absolutely terrified and trembling with fear. The lodger / boyfriend had an air rifle pointing it at us, the neck on the gun was really long and I had never seen nothing like it before in my life, I had never seen a real gun ever! It felt as though we were standing there for quite some time but then we heard, my mum putting the key into the front door, the lodger /
boyfriend rushed out of the bedroom into his room / office, (my bedroom), and we ran down the stairs as fast as we could, we got there before him, and raced to tell my mum what had happened.
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This is a very serious accusation to make but it is true.
The lodger / boyfriend followed us down the stairs at slow pace, as if nothing had happened, he was really calm and he stood behind us, he was towering over us as we told my mum what had happened over and over again, me and my sister couldn"t get our words out, we were stuttering as we were trying to tell her and the lodger / boyfriend said in a calmly manner he thought there was “a burglar” in the house. My mum didn"t listen to us; me and my sister clung onto my mum"s arms in an attempt to get some reassurance from her. My mum believed her lodger / boyfriend over us. He was lying, there was no sign of break in and he said this obviously to cover his tracks. My mum battered me and my sister, when she came into contact with my body she gave me cold hard slaps but 56
on contact the slaps would burn, my sister was also left with red marks. We were then sent to bed, as we walked up the stairs the lodger /
boyfriend"s eyes peered through the spindles of the staircase and he was smirking. I dread to think what would have happened if my mum never put the key in the door.
We so wanted to live with my dad, we were desperate, but this couldn"t happen as my mum had sole custody of us, we were in a no win situation. Me and my sister kept away from the lodger / boyfriend as much as we could we just kept our heads down and went to school the next day.
I was in school and couldn"t wait for the last bell to go, waiting and waiting, I couldn"t concentrate at all and was dying to tell my dad what had gone on. Eventually the bell went and me and my sister visited my dad and told him 57
everything what had happened, we explained that the lodger / boyfriend had pointed a gun at us and told my mum lies, she didn"t believe us, we flung our arms around my dad and me and my sister sobbed uncontrollably.
My dad calmed us down and reassured us once again.
My dad filed for custody but this got rejected, we were too young to understand why it got rejected.
My dad went to my mum"s house and waited for the lodger / boyfriend to appear but he never did on that night?
My dad bided his time, he was determined to see the lodger / boyfriend over the issue and one cold dark night in the street my dad approached him and threatened him; if he touched us or threatened
us
again
there
would
be
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consequences. My dad was not a violent man, he was just protecting his children, and I would do the same as I am sure any parent would. He was furious he could see that me and my sister hated the thought of us living there with him in that house, when we visited him in his flat he knew we were anxious when it was time to go back home. I just got on with life as best as I could. I stayed out of my mum and boyfriends way.
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Neglected
One day when we came home from school there was a car outside our house, me and my sister didn"t know who was there. A lady stood in the hallway and said she was a Social Worker and that we were going to a place where we would like and be with another family for a while. It didn"t sink in, me and my sister just stared at each other, my mum didn"t say a word and the 60
boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. We didn"t kick up a fuss or anything we just went with the flow.
The Social Worker took us in her car, we sat there quiet not saying anything just looking at each other and then looking out of the window.
We were too young and didn"t really know how to react, but the Social Worker said that it was a new family and that we would like it.
We were fostered out to a man and a woman but I can"t remember when or where they lived, I don"t even remember their names or anything. I was far too young to remember, it was a long time ago, but we did feel safe, and although it was very nice it didn"t feel right being there.
They were a nice couple, they had children of their own, a young daughter and a young son, it was a very nice house, very clean everything in 61
place, polished dining table, nice clean thick carpet. There wasn"t an atmosphere and they did try to make us welcome they were asking us what type of food do we like, they showed us where we were going to stay and introduced us to their children. The children were also quiet, and it did feel awkward but there was nothing we could do.
I remember the son of the foster carers asking me questions, why I lived with them, he wasn"t very nice, he wouldn"t share his toys with me, and I had nothing. He said in a posh voice that they were his toys. I told him that my mum didn"t want me or my sister and that"s why we where there but I told him it wasn"t forever, because we missed our dad and our other sisters.
He must have felt sorry for me and he shared his toys with me eventually. As I said before me 62
and my sister had nothing only the clothes on our backs.
Eventually we returned back home, my mum acted as if nothing had happened and just treated us like normal. We went back to school the next day and it was like it never happened. That wasn"t the only time we got fostered out, I thought that was it now, that my mum had a break and that she would be glad to have us back home.
We couldn"t wait to go and see my dad and to tell him everything, when he found out my dad went mad.
But there was nothing he could do as he didn"t have custody of us. He now had another 2
sisters living with him and he had arthritis.
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I didn"t really understand. We had to stay with my mum and her boyfriend, not a thing we could do.
We returned home from school on another occasion and again there was a car outside the house. We didn"t have a clue who it was, the same Social Worker that came last time was there and she said that my mum needed a break and that we were going to the same house we went to a couple of months ago. We looked at each other and again just went with the flow.
We were confused and didn"t know what to do.
We came back home and again got fostered out again, this time somewhere different, we were fostered out to three foster carers over about a year but we always returned to my mum"s house, it must have been respite for her. What a joke, we were kids, her kids; she should have loved us not giving us away for respite. We 64
asked our mum why she was doing this and that we didn"t like it and just send us to my dad, but she wouldn"t listen to us it was like we were invisible, it was so frustrating and me and my sister stuck together.
We stayed back at home for a short while, and not before long, someone came to take us, we thought we were going to foster parents but this time we got put in a children"s home in Rupert Road, in Huyton Village, we were only there for a short period of time, and got pushed from pillar to post. Again I don"t remember much about this, I was too young and so was my sister. We were a bit screwed up; we didn"t know where we were going to end up from one day to the next. We returned back to my mum"s house, but we didn"t know how long for this time and it was no use talking to my mum as she wouldn"t listen, I grew to hate her and felt so 65
angry inside, even when I wanted to talk to her I couldn"t because she never seemed to be alone always with her boyfriend, and I wouldn"t talk in front of him he made me feel uneasy. We would visit my dad and talk about it to him over and over again, he would listen and he was very concerned for us, he knew deep down he couldn"t do nothing, but he said we could always talk to him about our problems and what was happening
“What does that mean?”
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I liked to go in the back garden and play with my little cars and drive them up and down the muck and I would hold some soldiers between my hands and talk, by the way they were talking to each other. This made me forget what was happening for a while anyway. My friend from next door used to let me lend me toys as well. I used to go in the back garden when I came home from school to play.
One day I remember sitting at the end of the back garden playing with my toys, it was very sunny and I quite liked the back garden, there was a big lawn and the grass was of a rich green colour, I would play with my toys to get out of the house, however this day my mum and her boyfriend were talking and pointing over at me and I just pretended I couldn"t see nothing, and continued to play with my toys. I heard the 67
boyfriend asking my mum “Is he gay?” He was pointing at me, I did not know what this meant I was only a child, hadn"t even reached puberty yet. My mum didn"t reply and they both went back into the house, I went into the kitchen and walked up to my mum and asked my mum “Am I gay?” My mum shrugged her shoulders and said “I don"t know do I?” I didn"t know what they were talking about, but of course I do know now what he was saying. He wouldn"t dare say that to me now. It is so dreadful looking back; my mind was all over the place.
I felt really sad on that day, I remember it like it was yesterday, the way he looked at me the horrible smile he had on his face with his scruffy looks and his long greasy hair and my mum standing by his side drinking her cup of tea like it was nothing, “Wake up mum he was talking about your only son, you know what it 68
meant not me I was only a kid”. When I look back now how could she love me, she loved herself and the bully boy she called lodger.
Picking on an innocent young kid minding his own business in his own house playing with his toys, didn"t they have anything better to do?
This was only a small chapter because every time I think of this day I feel like going round to her and his house and booting the door in and saying “Say it now big man.”
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The boyfriend had his own office, which was the back bedroom with a lock on it, (my bedroom); I was curious to see what was in there; I had walked passed the door on many occasions wondering what was in there.
One day I built up the courage and got a fork from the kitchen drawer and I broke in, the lock opened, I opened the door very slowly, my heart was racing, I entered “The room” it was full of posters on the wall of guns and stuff a lot to do with Northern Ireland, pictures of soldiers, etc.
In the corner leant against the filing cabinet was the “Air rifle” he used to point at me and my sister, with a full box of pellets next to it, I noticed under the cabinet a box, like a shoe box, I stared at it which felt like for ages, but I picked it up very carefully and opened it, and in it was 70
a black hand gun, looked very heavy, didn"t touch it, put it back under the cabinet and locked the room, my nerves were gone, sweat was pouring out of my skin, you know what they say curiosity killed the cat, but luckily I didn"t get caught. I was scared of him anyway but I was even more scared now. The boyfriend had a fascination with guns, how strange. I was wondering what he did for a living?
All the years I lived in my mum"s house when he was there I never spoke to him, and he didn"t once speak to me or my sister, only on the gun issue, them words will haunt me forever “Come out or I"ll shoot you.” I hated him and still do and still have a lot of anger for this man, who will never leave me, he and my mum ruined our childhood. I blame my mum more though; she should have taken us under her wing and protected us from harm. But I feel very angry 71
and such hatred for the boyfriend also. If he confronted me now that I have grown up I would retaliate. I can"t understand to this day why my mum stood by the boyfriend, she never reassured us as a mother or try to even make the situation better, I think she was just waiting for us to grow up so she could be with her man all of the time. Well she got her wish a lot sooner than she thought the two of them all alone as they planned for so long.
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Safe Zone
Underneath the staircase in my mum"s house there was a small cupboard where the gas meter was kept, that was my safe zone. I spent hours in that little cupboard, it has a small wooden door on it and on the inside it had a strip of metal, probably where part of the old lock was, but I could lock myself inside, no one could get 73
in. I had a little torch and when the batteries ran out I used to take the batteries out of the torch and bite them to give the torch more energy to get another 30 minutes of light. I was a bit frightened in the cupboard under the stairs but felt safe. I would sometimes fall asleep for hours and nobody knew where I was. I would then open the latch on the inside of my little cupboard and creep out really quiet so that nobody would hear me. I would be on my guard looking around to hear where everybody was.
I would then go into the kitchen very quietly not trying to make any sounds at all and look for crisps, sweets biscuits, anything I could find to put in my safe zone.
I was happy in that little cupboard away from everyone meaning my mother and her toy boy.
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Looking back I should have locked my mother and the toy boy in my safe zone and put a lock on it, but no, I am not that cruel.
I used to get the batteries out of the remote controls or anything that took batteries; I hid them in my little safe zone under the stairs. My dad taught me that trick, with the batteries.
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