I felt I had to get away, mother was having a field day with me, I was frightened that I would do or say something I would regret. So I phoned my friend Jane Weaver who now lived in Wakely, ten minuets down the road, and asked if I could stay with her for a while. At once she said “yes” and I put the phone down and went upstairs to pack.

Ma didn’t understand me like dad did, well how could she? Dad had stuck to his word and told her nothing, trying to explain to ma that I needed space and that I would be back was impossible, it had turned into a row, I left the house in anger. Jane didn’t know about dad, I didn’t know about Bobby, we both had some catching up to do. All these years later Jane was still my little ray of sunshine. She gave me what I needed, “space”. Bobby, her son, was a beautiful baby: he had dark brown eyes and his smile was just like Jane’s. Poor girl, she also had been through hell, but we decided that with each other’s help we might just make it.

The first two weeks I carried on taking my pills, but then I ran out, Jane knew nothing so I had no way of getting more pills. The week before I had posted my sick money from the farm to ma, for I knew she would need it, but I decided, when I got my pay the following day that I would not send it, I would take it and see if ma could get some pills.

As I walked down north road I felt very nervous, even a bit scared, not about ma, but about going back into dad’s house. Would he be mad at me for not doing as he asked? For although I had only been away for two weeks, I had begun to feel I was letting him down. Though I knew he would understand why, I needed some space. Unlike ma as I opened the front door, I could still feel the glow of love, it hit me right in the face. I walked into the kitchen where ma was asleep in dad’s chair: she looked pale, in fact she looked awful. I looked around the room; everything was just the same: dad’s books were still on the shelf, ashtray on the window sill, foot-stool next to the unit, even his walking stick over the back of his chair, and still the feeling of peace and love my darling dad always gave off. Ma woke and was very pleased to see me, as she fully awoke she came and cuddled me, there was nothing different in her voice, and I asked: “Were you ill?” She replied: “No, just very sad and lonely”. I knew I had to repay this woman’s kindness and love, I had to return home, I owed that and more.

Our lives over the next two weeks slowly started to improve, I don’t mean that we missed dad any less, but we both realised that our lives had to go on. Although if it had not been for dad’s last words to me, I knew I would have ended it all by now. I went back to work, but I seemed to have lost the zest for my job; whether it would return I didn’t know or even cared for, at the end of my day, I had no one to share my inner soul with. Ma also returned to her job in the shop, she found it worse than me because the staff and customers couldn’t help but say: “how sorry they were”. It was in my eyes a very cruel and unkind world, if only people could realise what comments like that can do to you. Ma was very strong, something I had never seen in her before.

My friend Jane and her son Bobby remained very close to ma and me, her ‘good for nothing’ boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, she was very young to be a mum, but the love she had for Bobby was indeed proof of what a good mum she was. I admired her, the way she managed her home and child, just like a woman twice her age. It was my first encounter with babyhood. I can’t say it appealed to me, animals were by far easier. Having them both in our lives gave us something to focus on, and what better than a new life.

It would take both of our wages to pay the rent and run our home. I gave ma my wages on Friday very willingly, after the old bills were cleared, ma said “we could work something better out”. Money didn’t mean anything to me, even before dad died.

We managed for another year or so, but then mother suddenly got louder and louder, I was unable to go to anyone, talk to anyone, I was alone. With her relentlessly torturing me, I had nowhere to run, no one to go for help, my world, if that’s what you call it, was crumbling around me. Even Mindy had no hold on me or even dad’s words. For after quite a short time I found, yet again, that I had nothing to live for. (I think I was so worn out after losing my dad, I had nothing to fight mother with).