That's Life ( Pt 11 )

A note to the reader...at first I wasn't sure whether to add this part to my story, but after much consideration, I thought it might help anyone reading this in a similar situation, to know that you're not alone and should always confide in someone and not be intimidated by anyone.

 

Dear Diary...this part of my life is certainly a time I wasn't at all proud of myself, I look back and feel I could have handled the whole situation a lot different in retrospect, but at the time I felt cornered and defenseless.

 

It was as though my blackest hour had come, when one day I'd arrived back from a day out and there was a police car outside the house. Standing at the bottom of the road, I was afraid, not knowing why the police were there, so decided to head the other way, having no real idea of where I'd go, but not wanting to get involved in any police business.

 

Finding a phone box, I rang a friend who lived in some flats close by, luckily she was in, so I asked if I could come round to hers and stay for a couple of hours, explaining my situation. I could tell she had company as I heard voices in the background, but she agreed to let me come over. It was just becoming dark when I arrived at her flat, I felt scared because I knew I'd have to head home eventually.

 

She did have company, it was her grandmother. As I'd been to see my friend at the flat quite a lot recently and met her grandmother on numerous occasions, I found I got on really well with her, she was your typical, caring, kindhearted soul, that always had a smile on her face. I found my self opening up to this pleasant lady about my anxieties with the family I lived with, she seemed to understand and wanted to be of some help, suggesting that I come out on some pensioners coach trips with her and her husband.

 

“But, what about my young son?” I'd remarked, obviously not sure that a coach load of pensioners would take to kindly to a crying baby.

 

“Oh! I'm sure he'll be fine,” she declared. “Look! We're going to Millford-on-sea, why don't you come along...give it a try, see how you get on?”

 

I had to admit my finances were a little better and it would get me out of that house. “Yes!” I said, “I'd love to come with you.”

 

The silver lining in not having to cook, or do washing and my rent money covering all amenities, was that I could go out whenever I wanted, so I did go out on the trip to Millford-on-sea and another coach trip, it was not only fun but I also felt safe with them, they took me under their wing and my son had his palm crossed with many pieces of silver from some of the other pensioners, so I decided to open up a post office savings account for him.

 

I enjoyed their singing on the way home from a day out. Normally they'd stop off at a pub, which would give me a chance to change my son's nappy and give him a feed. I'd also been given a haversack and a baby sling carrier by mum and dad. I could now carry my son with ease facing me and my haversack on my back to level out the weight, with my lightweight fold up pushchair for when it got too much for me to carry.

 

Anyway, back to my night at the flat on this particular evening. Luckily as always my son was amazingly good, seeming to adapt to any situation I found myself in. I spent a couple of hours with my friend and her grandmother, but don't remember what time I left the flat, though it was late.

 

When I eventually arrived back at the house, I was in for a shock. I unlocked the door and went in. I was just about to go upstairs, when I was called into the sitting room. Apparently the landlady's husband had gone out and stolen a car with some of his mates, now him and his wife wanted me to lie to the police that he was at home when the car was stolen. I said, “ No!” I've never lied to the police before and didn't intend on starting now.

 

The landlady and her husband looked at each other then became angry with me, threatening to throw all my stuff out on the street If I didn't fabricate the truth. Finding myself in such a terrifying position gave me chills, all my fears came in a flood again as I stumbled on my words, not able to contain my anger. “What if I say I don't know anything?” I questioned. “At least I won't be lying then.”

 

“No! That's not good enough,” he demanded. “I need an alibi...the police don't believe us.”

 

“But I could get in trouble myself if they find out I'm lying,” I said, sitting down and staring at my son in his pushchair. Having visions of him being taken away, and me ending up in prison.

 

“You won't get in trouble,” he declared. “There's no reason they should suspect me, if you just tell them I was here last night.”

 

“What about the car in question? Where is it now?” I uttered, shaking. “What about finger prints?” I had this image of the police going through the evidence with a fine tooth comb.

 

“The car's in bits...but that's all you need to know.” He left me feeling completely helpless and trapped.

 

“When are the police coming here to question me?” I asked.

 

“Tomorrow morning, so I hope you'll do the right thing.” The smile that came from that man's face said it all.

 

“I'll sleep on it!” I declared, walking out with my son and up the stairs to my room. That night I lay there trying to salvage what little dignity I had left, knowing I'd have to lie.

 

The next morning as promised the police arrived at the house once again. I knew I had no option but to lie, but with no where to go, there was no way I would put myself and my son on the streets, then there was my furniture to worry about too.

 

Carrying my baby and going downstairs, two policeman were at the front door. I wanted to speak to them privately outside, but the husband wouldn't have it and told them to come in. As they entered the living room and we all sat down, they asked me my name and how long I'd been living at the house. I told them the truth and felt satisfied that I'd given them the information they wanted.

 

Then the moment arrived, the dreaded question came. “We believe Mr...no name, stole a car on the night of the...! Would you like to verify for us please if he was at home like he said he was.”

 

There was silence as all eyes were on me and my answer, I could feel my heart racing at a million miles an hour, as he spoke. In fact as I write this, my heart's beating fast. I just needed to get it over with. “Yes! He was at home,” I said, feeling sick to the stomach and biting my thumb nail.

 

Then one of the officers said, “are you sure?” He looked at me suspiciously, or at least that's how it felt.

 

“Yes! Yes!” I said feeling even worse. “How else do I put it? He was here in this living room.” That's it...I'd just lied through me teeth and wanted to get out as quickly as possible, having a feeling the officer knew I was lying.

 

The humiliation was all too much as I made my way upstairs to my room with my son, I could still hear them chatting, as I lay him in his cot. Making a bee line for the bed, I threw myself down crying into the pillow. “How could these people do this to me?” I kept saying it over and over again. I'd always respected the law and perhaps I am a stuck up bitch like granny said, but I was proud to be someone who had never intentionally broken the law in my life and came from a good background.

 

I don't know how long I lay there, but all this crying had worn me out, I was overwhelmed by it all, thinking I could drown in the amount of tears I'd cried since I'd left my home.

 

Then anger and determination set in, I decided to spend as much time away from this crappy house as possible, then they'd have no hold over me. As long as the rent got paid, they could keep their lies and deceit.

 

I wasn't eating with them regularly now, because I was afraid of getting caught up in their schemes, I'd not really had a hot meal for a while. I'd normally buy a packet of digestives and make myself a coffee before sleep, in fact I lived on digestives, not wanting to eat with these people that had caused me to lie. The house would be in darkness when I arrived home, which meant I wouldn't be bothered by anyone and could just get on with what I needed to do before bedtime.

 

The landlady had said on numerous occasions that she couldn't understand why I stayed out so late. “It's not very good for you or your son,” she would say, “and you're not eating properly.”

 

I knew she was right...living off biscuits isn't a good idea, and I was looking extremely thin and withdrawn lately, I could no longer forgive this controlling family. Confused and bewildered at how manipulative they were, I felt humiliated and trapped, knowing I'd be unable to share this dirty...stinking world of lies they lived under any longer. I wanted out, and this time I was determined one way or another to find peace.

 

 

Just to add...when I finally got out of that house permanently, I did go to the police and told them everything. I just couldn't live with myself and my conscience. It was the most grueling experience I'd come up against...apart from the incident with granny.

 

 

 

To be continued...