That's Life ( Pt 6 )
By skinner_jennifer
- 2602 reads
Once I'd managed to stop the tears, leaving the toilet I pulled myself together and made my way upstairs to the kitchen, with sore, red eyes and a feeling of embarrassment, because granny and her minions were in there.
“What the F...ck is up with you now?” She uttered in her usual gruff manner, a cigarette sitting in the corner of her mouth. “Always crying like a baby.” She tut tutted looking at her daughter who was finding it hard to keep her baby quiet.
Granny! Was the last thing I needed at a time like this. I turned and walked back out, then ran down to my room taking two steps at a time, so angry and frustrated that I'd let her talk to me this way. I could picture the scene of the kitchen going silent, as everyone would be wondering what the hell was wrong. On reflection, I wish I'd had the courage to face up to granny, but to be honest I knew deep down it was a waste of time and I would come off worse in the end.
Back at my room, I still kept the bag of change under my son's mattress, feeling it was the safest place. This is the moment I would need the rest of my money for all the phone calls I'd have to make.
Lifting the mattress I was shocked to find it wasn't there, I knew I hadn't put the bag of change anywhere else...someone had been in my room and taken it! But with no proof I could hardly go accusing. I felt miserable, because now I'd have to borrow some change, here I was trying to get back on my feet and be independent, then this happens.
My misery soon turned to anger, there was a big black cloud hanging over my head and I refused to be intimidated any longer. Storming out of my room and marching back up to the kitchen, as soon as I entered, all eyes were on me, my anger turned to fear once again. Thank goodness my son was in my friend's room where she was looking after him for me, with my thunderous mood it was of some consolation.
Granny was sat at the kitchen table, her long...lanky legs draped across another chair, glaring at me with her usual leery grin of distaste. All my confidence went out the kitchen door, as I ambled over to the cupboard and took out a mug.
It was then that she declared she was going to take the gran kids out for burger and chips with some extra money she'd discovered she had. I knew there and then it was her that had taken the money, but still I couldn't prove it.
I never flinched, I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of starting a fight. Sauntering over to the kettle I made myself a hot drink and left the kitchen without speaking, making my way to my friends room to tell her what happened. Thankfully my son was sleeping, while her daughter was playing. “I need your help!” I declared frantically, tears rushing down my cheeks.
“What did the aid worker say,” she was eager to hear what had been said to upset me.
That was it, I just burst into floods of tears, I don't think I've ever cried so much in my life, as I explained that I had to be out by Sunday...no questions asked. Then I told her about the stolen money and how I couldn't prove anything. I could hardly speak, as I was gasping for the words. She put her arm around my shoulder and consoled me.
“Look! Don't worry, I've got some change, and I know a couple of the other mothers won't mind pitching in.
Finally granny had left the kitchen and I felt more at ease knowing others would help. The rest of the day was spent cooking and looking through the telephone directory, making phone calls, though I didn't have any success.
That evening I sat in the kitchen with a couple of cans of New Castle Brown and chatted to the other mothers that I'd bonded with. My son's soon to be god mother said she'd come along to check out any accommodation that I decided to go and look at.
The next day I got up early, after doing the usual chores, a couple of us went shopping as we always did. I bought a local newspaper, feeling I'd have more chance of finding some place.
When we got back to the refuge, I checked the paper and found quite a few bedsits, but again when I came to phone, they were either taken already, or wouldn't take a woman with a baby, I couldn't believe it would be so hard to get somewhere to live.
“There's always bed and breakfast till you find something more permanent,” said my friend, assuring me that I wouldn't end up on the streets with a tiny baby.
Thursday went far too quickly, it was like a gust of wind had swept the day away, as I contemplated what Friday would bring. A couple of the women said I should go out with them on Friday night, to help take my mind off all the worrying, but I didn't want to stop worrying, I just couldn't relax until I knew I had a roof over my head where I could keep my independence, so I declined their offer.
Friday came and my heart was racing. Yet another day of phone call after phone call with no luck, I could never be accused of not trying, that's for sure.
It was about 4.30pm, I knew most letting agencies would be closing soon. Desperation was setting in, as I spent the next half hour on the phone, luckily nobody else needed to use it, but goodness knows how much money I'd spent over the last couple of days, it was a small fortune to me, but with nothing to show for it, and I'd have to pay everyone back too into the bargain.
I could hear the sound of traffic outside and children making their way home from school, thoughts of all those people going home to their happy families, I wanted to be happy and I thought coming here I'd found my family, but now here I was being thrown out to go it alone, but at least I was thinking straighter, my sanity was recovering and I hoped that something would happen as I checked out the paper once more.
With children running up and down the stairs and in and out of the rooms, also the sound of Dexy's Midnight Runners record, Come On Eileen playing in the background on one of the mums tape machines, I searched the accommodations column. Now every time I hear that record, I'm reminded of that moment.
There was an agency called homes for you, which I drew a circle around, wondering if maybe this would be worth phoning up, so with my last coin in hand, I dialed the number, then heard the voice on the other end say; “Hello! Homes for you.”
Putting the last coin in, I quickly asked if they had any rooms or bedsits going for a mother and baby? The woman on the other end paused, I presumed she was checking her records.
At that moment my friend appeared and asked if I'd had any luck. I nodded saying, “no!” Then whispered to her, “have you any more change...this is my last coin.”
She quickly produced some more coins from her purse, I blew her a kiss and smiled, relieved that I wouldn't loose this call. It was a while before the woman on the other end of the phone returned and said they hadn't got anything, but that I should phone again the next day. My heart sank down to my knees, as I said thank you and went to put the receiver down.
To be continued...
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Comments
oh, thought for a moment it
oh, thought for a moment it was going to be a happy ending. I guess I know you're alright, but got dragged into the story. Granny really is a waste of space. But I guess in a dog bite dog world stealing off the poorest is no worse or better than stealing off the richest. Well, look forward to next diary entry to I find out where in the world you end up.
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I'm with celtic on this one,
I'm with celtic on this one, Jenny Well done, once again, on the more than deserved cherries.
Tina
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That Granny is a real life
That Granny is a real life Bee Smith - there's always a bully isn't there, even when you're at your lowest ebb! Amazing what the human spirit can take, it must have knocked so much emotional stuffing out of you - but somehow you were still able to problem solve.
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Hi Jenny
Hi Jenny
I love the song Come on Eileen too, and I can imagine it spurring you on in your moments of dispair.
I keep worrying about your money situation. Bed and Breakfast or renting a room is an expensive option, but maybe you were getting other benefits as well as child benefit, and they would help with your rent. I would have looked on a local post office board - if I were looking for a local place to rent.
Jean
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Oh Jenny,
Oh Jenny,
I hate bullies of any kind but to come across one when you are already in a desperate situation must have been awful and Granny must have been the pits to treat you as she did. But then again she and her daughter were in a refuge so perhaps she was the way she was because of what life had done to her.
You are sharing your experiences at a time of your life that makes fascinating reading.
Moya.
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