TBA - Maybe 'Surviving Suburbia'
an excerpt

There was one rule in the house I grew up in, or at least one that was above the rest. It was ' you will be independent' it taught me that no one else would be there to pick up the pieces, no one would be there to guide or advise. Whatever happened it was all up to me. Was this rule what made my parents the way they were? Was it going to rule my choices too?
This struck me then, as it does now, as being very hypocritical. My father, who believed in this role so strongly, bailed out when I was seven. My mother said this rule was so important, but spent most of my life at home looking for a crutch, and the support she so badly craved. I think looking back, that she hoped we could grow to not need it. To never feel as scared or lonely as she was.
I should be grateful as well I suppose. To go with the rule was so much freedom. No one took responsibility for me because I was meant to do that. No one checked I ate properly, or washed regularly, or went to bed at a sensible hour.
I think what saved me was books. I could see that there were other beliefs, and other options. A part of being independent, to me, was that I was free to choose another way, or not. I was free to be anyone, to make of myself anything I wanted. The price of course was loneliness. If you won't rely on anyone, for anything, they are unlikely to rely on you.
I often asked myself why my parents would choose this isolated existence and I had one or two theories but never really got into their heads. For my dad it was partly that he was always a loner and he didn't know how to be there for others. He also didn't know how to ask for help, to be helped. This I think is why he did what he did. My mum wanted it to be different, but her family ahs always been independent, and then she married a man who was very similar. She craved a different way, but didn't know where to start or how to change. My sister Anna was no different. at two years older than me she looked through me. I was a thing in her life that tshe had no use for, no interest in, and she'd have been happier if I'd never appeared.
We shared a house and a surname but our paths only crossed at the bathroom door, or the TV remote. She had her friends and I mine, no common ground, places to hang out or people in common. It didn't matter to our parents that we were so estranged. They made us do some things together, for convenience or safety, but they never expected us to play together, or share things.
The place we grew up in was a very normal housing estate in a normal town. Even if it had been different we would not have known. I think that up to a certain age, everyone thinks that whatever their family is like, is the norm. We had more freedom than most of our friends, but also more chores and less support. If I got in a fight at school, my sister was as likely to encourage the other girl (if not more likely). If I had problems, my parents first question was ' what did you so wrong?' followed by 'what are you going to do about it?'
Most of my friends later on were similarly used to fending for themselves and we created our own 'family' complete with feuds and anger as well as support against outsiders. We stayed together through those feuds because all of us had no one else. I was the one who organised us, got us out of trouble, tried to fight the system with its own stupid unhelpful rules. I was also the one who lent money for chips or the bus, and rarely got it back. I was the one that showed up early then waited for ages because everyone else showed up late. I was the one who couldn't say no when someone needed company for a dodgy date, or to go and check out a new place.
There were two events in my childhood that had a huge impact on me. Most of the rest of it was just the usual events in a small town, full of cruel and sneaky children. Individually they were all someone's little darling. Put them together and the pack mentality came through. Persecute and remove any threat to the pack, anything different or strange. The first event though was much closer to home, more personal, more shocking. I was seven and Anna was nine. Back then we walked to and from school and life was simple. Dad would be on his way to work when we got up. Mum would have our lunches ready and breakfast on the table. We were expected to set our own alarm clocks, get ourselves up, washed and dressed, have our school bag ready and leave everything tidy. Breakfast was always cereal and toast. The cereal was usually whatever had been cheapest that week, so we never knew what would be available, and we only ever had one packet open at a time, so if I didn't like the option that week I went without. The bread was always the cheapest too, so very plain, tasteless white bread where the only flavour came from what you put on it. Again not much choice and cheap slimy margerine to to go on it. Never margerine and spread., we were only allowed one or the other.
After a bland breakfast we walked off to school. Mum didn't take us and as soon as we wereout of view of the house Anna would push me away saying she didn't want to walk with me or be seen with me, so I would go on ahead. If I didn't then when her friends joined us I would be the butt of their nasty jokes. They'd try and trip me or make me drop my bag in a puddle or dog mess. I didn't mind going ahead, it meant I could think about whatever characters I had been reading about the night before. My book was always with me, but reading at the breakfast table was banned. I would read anywhere and everywhere given the chance. I tried reading while walking but it just meant Anna and her friends had an even easier target, so I didn't try that for long. I loved to know that there were other options besides our cold family life. Some were worse, and that made me worry, but in those the main character would usually either become a 'bad guy' or a hero, but would find a way through whatever poverty or cruelty they started life with. I liked to think that I would be a hero and make a difference, but sometimes I thought and dreamed about what it would be like to be a bad guy. I planned and plotted how I wouldn't be caught because I wouldn't hesitate to stop anyone who opposed me. I wouldn't tell them the master plan before offing them. O planned how I would create a family from misfits and wierdos. I would bring them together, build a group that was loyal and brave and could help me, the way my family didn't want to. They would be the strong ones, and we could stop the bullies, we would make sure no child feared for their possessions or feared being caught alone by the sneaky spiteful biter kids.
School at that point was easy. Some sums, some writing, cooking, TV programmes, some music. The day always started with assembly, and anyone with a birthday had to go to the front and we all snag 'Happy birthday' to them. Then we'd be told a story that was supposed to make us think about being good and kind, but usually made me think ' I won't be caught out like that' or ' I won't let someone take advantage of me like that'. Then we all had to sing a song. I was always jealous of the three or four children that didn't have to go to assembly. They sat in a classroom and could read or play quietly. it seemed to me that they could avoid all the crumby stuff about the school religious bits but they borrowed the good bits. The didn't get Christmas presents but they got 'New Year presents' so that they did not feel left out. I always thought it was cheating. If they really believed in their religion, they shouldn't get to have the bits of ours that they liked, and still have all the good bits of their own as well.
Walking home from school was tougher because Anna wanted me close enough that we'd get home together, but not too close. This meant I couldn't get away from her group and they'd spend the whole time trying to get me to cry or react. I knew from experience that if I showed them that what they said or did was upsetting me that they would get worse. I learnt that no matter how nasty or unkind they wereI had to show no reaction at all. To show weakness was to be defeated. I learnt to hide inside myself and block out the cruel things they'd say, to ignore the pain if they pinched me, or trod on my foot, or kicked me, or pushed me into nettles or thorns. Books were a favourite way to escape, like visiting a good friend, you could leave the rest behind while visiting, even though you knew it would all still be there on your return.
When we got home dad would be there, but mum would be at work. Dad's meals were always a bit basic, but he made the best chips anywhere, from actual potato and in an old fashioned chip pan full of lard. If it was fried or grilled he cooked it. Veg were an optional extra, usually mushrooms or tomatoes, sometimes frozen peas. We both had to help out though, peeling potatoes, setting table, washing and drying up afterwards. He'd also get us to make his cups of tea.
The day it all changed began just as I've described, the usual getting ready for and going to school, the usual spite and venom on the way home. Anna went in first, I was already getting out my latest book, the waterbabies, and heading upstairs when I noticed Anna had not grabbed her drink and the TV remote like she usually did. She had a sheet of notepaper in her hand, and the milk carton overflowing her glass as she stared at the paper. I tried to read it over her shoulder and she pushed me away, noticing at last the milk spreading over the table and dripping on the floor. "get something to mop this up" she snapped as she went upstairs, yelling back at me " and stay down her and fix this mess". It was the same Anna, bossing me in the usual way, and yet there was something that didn't fit, didn't match her patterns. Like she was going through the motions, but not really behind the bitchiness like she usually was.
I knew she'd blame the mess on me if it wasn't cleared up before Dad saw it, I knew she'd be believed over me. She was 'older', she was 'responsible' and I was always told I had to listen to her when mum and dad weren't with us. Fat chance! Since she rarely asked anything of me without a prod or a pinch, and always dumped the worst bits on me, got me to do the things she hated or feared. I was already really good at removing spiders and bugs and hiding my own reaction, because I knew she'd make me do it all the more if she knew I shivered every time I saw a spider, let alone when I had one in a glass, held captive by a flimsy piece of paper, expected it to push the paper away because I didn't hold it down hard enough as I tried to keep it away from me. The worst bit was trying to shake it out in the garden. I always pictured it crawling around the edge and up my sleeve. The saying ' what doesn't kill you makes you stronger' always rang true with me, always helped me face the creepy crawlies, and cope with whatever the spiteful petty group of Anna's friends came up with.
I got an old towel/duster from the cupboard and mopped up the milk, put the carton away and drank the glass of milk Anna had tried to pour. She could try again if she wanted any. She had left it after all. I went upstairs to see what she was up to with dad but she was sat on the top step, blocking me from going any further. She was staring at the note from downstairs and tears were flowing down her cheeks. She wasn't wailing, or making any noise at all, just looking at this note and looking like she no longer had any support and was totally adrift. I tried for the note again and this time got it. She was too distant to realise what I was doing until I had it. As son as I had it I set off downstairs, out into the garden and down to the gate. Outside I ran to the nearest tree, which had blocks of wood nailed to it, so any of us could climb it. I knew that once I was up there I could hold her off long enough to read the note she had tried to stop me from getting. I climbed with no regard for my clothes, or the skin on my arms or legs. Once there I uncrumpled the note and began to read. I had to stop and steady myself as the tree seemed to sway beneath me and I felt acid rising in my throat. I read to the end, then in disbelief I crumpled it back up and threw it as far as I could. I noticed that Anna had nearly reached the tree, saw what I had done, and rushed over to pick it up. She looked up at me and said "mum will be back early today so we are to stay out here until then".
I could not believe that my own father would leave us, would force yet another level of independence on us. What would it mean for us? Who would take us up to the swimming baths on a Sunday? Who would give us our precious pocket money? Who would mend our broken toys? The note was too brief. It just said he could not carry on this way, and as no one could help him he was leaving us. It said he loved us and would be thinking of us wherever he went but that we had to be strong and independent, and not hope for his return. I didn't understand how Anna could be so calm and yet so distant. It was like a part of her had gone with dad, leaving a shell here with me. The rest of that day, and the few after are a blur to me, even now, even after everything else, my subconcious still holds it away from me, still stops me looking too closely. I know we were sent to our grans that night. Mum met us at the door, our bags already in the car. She took us there but like Anna, was detached, as though a part of her was missing too. I look back and realise that she was in shock, that it had not yet become real for her, but at the time I was just bitter that she was even less connected to us than normally.
By the time we went back home, it had all been changed. Mum had taken their room apart, and made it into a room for me and Anna to share. She had taken my old room. All my things had been moved and were piled in boxes fro me to put away (or spread across the floor as they had been in my old room). The bathroom had been changed too. The bath was now a corner piece and we at last had a shower, with those glass panels that folded like a bellows to le you in, but shut the world out once you were inside.
At first I tried to hide in there for as long as I could each morning, escaping into another place where I was precious enough to be protected and sheltered, rather than irrelevant enough to be put out and told to get on with it, with no interest in how things turned out. Gradually we all adjusted to the new routines. Mum would be there in the mornings as before, but after school we were to go to Deborah, our neighbour until mum collected us as she walked back from the bus stop. Every time I asked why it had all changed I was told it was because that is what life does, and not to expect anything to stay the same. I was told it was because mum wanted a fresh start and a smaller room now that she was the only one sleeping in it.
A few weeks later, Anna was doing her best to ignore me on the way home, Lisa her then best friend, was doing her best to bait me, to make me react to her taunts. The old ones did not work on me. I was away on adventures in strange cities in foreign lands. I was at a boarding school, where there were no parents, so all of us had to live without a dad, so I did not feel so different there. before I could catch myself I realised I was falling towards a very mucky puddle. Lisa laughed as I fell into it and brown slime splashed into my eyes and mouth. "look at you, can't even walk home without falling in a mess - no wonder your own dad wouldn't put up with you", Anna's face went grey at this "she doesn't know you idiot". At this Lisa looked at both of us and said "how can she not know? I guess it's not just your dad that couldn't handle reality then." She then took Louise's arm and the two of them walked off. I ran after them and demanded she explain. She just pushed me away and laughed "ask Anna or your mother, they should have told you before now". The two of the turned from me again. I rounded on Anna "what did she mean? what are you hiding? Did dad leave because of me?" "shut up you stupid little baby, they just wanted to get a reaction, and oh look, it flipping well worked, didn't it?" She set off fr home, I followed threatening to tell mum what had happened. "yeah, 'cos mum really needs another worry right now, can't you think beyond your own selfishness just for once?"
By the time we got home I was calm enough & had cleaned myself up at Deborah's house, so there was no proof what had happened. I knew that Anna would deny it all, and with no proof, she would be believed. If I wanted to understand it I would have to get answers for myself I would have to track down my dad and find out why he left.
I started with Deborah, dropping hints about what it would be like where my dad was, hoping to get some clues about where he was and what he was doing. She just looked at me a bit sadly, patted me on the head and said she thought he would be happier, but thinking of us and hoping we were happy too. I didn't know what else to try, but our librarian always seemed to know everything, or know how to find out about things. The next time I as returning books I asked her " how would you go about finding a missing person?". Her reply was a bit slow and thoughtful and she said she guessed it would depend on how they went missing and on how long they'd been missing. She showed me to their Microfische machine and explained it had a huge index covering all the local press, and some national. It was only meant for adults use, but she knew I was always careful. She knew I would never use a sticky sweet wrapper to mark my page, or any of the other nasty things that you sometimes find in second hand or library books.
I took the index page and started by looking for my dad by name, looking for any hint of him. There were a few articles about his work, and winning big contracts, then at last an article on the day he disappeared. A picture of our house with Police and Ambulance vehicles outside. The story next to it spoke of him as a good family man, a loving husband and father who would be deeply missed. It said they could not tell if it was a DIY accident or deliberate, except for the note he left, which lead them to believe he had taken his own life. It was mentioned that he was found by his nine year old daughter hanging form the light fitting in the bathroom. I couldn't take it all in. It was there in front of me, but did not match anything I had been told. Why would they lie to me? Why leave me with hope he would one day return? This more than the day he left us, was what made me recognise how truly alone I was, how I could not trust anyone to be there for me, or to tell me the truth. From this day I would take nothing at face value, always look for motive behind the words, wonder what else was being kept from me. What else could I find id I only looked close or deep enough? I wanted so badly to be connected to people, but knew it was never going to be real, never be simple and pure. Always it would be tainted by a hidden agenda, by words unspoken.
We had been told we had to be independent/ self sufficient by a man that had given up. We were not enough to keep him here when the going got tough. Was it hereditary? If so, why did they live long enough to have children, would it have been better not to have us left carry on alone? Was this why they insisted we find the answers for ourselves? because they could not. Was it all to prepare us for when they would leave us behind? Was it in the hope we would not follow his example?
He had said to me, only a week or so before he gave up, that I was really good at understanding other people, and talking to them in the right way. I din;t think he was right, I always found it so difficult. Looking back, he found it even harder, he saw in me whatever he was missing. He tried to tell me it was special and important but I just felt that it was hard and not very reliable anyway. I can look back and see that he tried to make it easier for us. Tried to make sure we learned the things he thought he'd missed. I think that what he missed is that no one finds it easy. It is easier for some than others, but we all learn to fake it, or pretend it is not that important anyway.
Once I knew the truth, I could see why Lisa reacted that way, why when we were at school people had been distant and careful what they said to us. Were we the only ones to have such a terrible event in our lives? Probably not, but it set us apart, made the rest of the school uneasy. Was it catching, were we caught, doomed to be the same? I decided that mum and Anna would not be helped by knowing that I knew. I realised that their effort to protect me was actually an effort to protect themselves from my reaction. I realised that although I was the youngest, I would have to be strong enough to hide my knowledge from them.