Damaged Goods by Diane McNab - HTML preview

BUT LET'S START AT THE BEGINNING

JANE COLLINS

BORN ON 1 AUGUST 1980

My Father is the eminent Dr. Grayson Collins and my Mother's name is Alice.

I was born five years after my Parents marriage so I took a lot longer to arrive than perhaps they had both wished for.

My Father is a top Heart Surgeon respected by his peers, however, he had not foreseen having a child that did not come up to his expectations.

I was born female.

Good birth weight 7 pound 6 ounces.

10 little fingers.

10 little toes.

Perfect in every way but without a uterus.

My Parents brought me home and my Mother lovingly placed me in the beautiful nursery she had created, never noticing that my Father distanced himself from her and myself also.

In fact my Father did not even care to look at me.

Of course in the early days of my childhood I was not aware of this but as I grew older I came to realise I did not live in a happy home.

My Father had moved out of the marital bedroom the day I was brought home from the hospital and remained ensconced in another section of the house. As far as I knew the word divorce was never spoken or entertained so we were a family caught up in a hamster's wheel going around in circles.

Hold on, I have forgotten to speak of another person who definitely deserves a mention as she is exceptionally special, my Nanny Lily.

My Father had demanded I have a Nanny as he expected his Wife to be available to attend charity events with him and whatever other occasions that arose due to his standing. My Mother conceded to his wish but stated that she would pick her adversary, standing her ground on the matter. My Father gave in and agreed and she picked well.

Lily and my Mother quickly established a strong relationship purely based on the fact that they both adored me. They soon became firm friends and whenever my Father spent time away over night (which as I grew older happened on a more frequent basis) the two women would play scrabble and talk for hours.

Many nights when my Father was absent my Mother and I would share a bath filling it with so many bubbles we could barely see each other.

After that Mum would read me a goodnight story and not much later I would hear her and Lily falling in to fits of laughter during their conversations. I would secretly open my door and listen to them, eventually going to bed happy knowing my Mum was happy to.

So the years passed and even though I grew up in a dysfunctional family I managed to find pieces of joy that I held on to with all my heart.