Ben (7 page)

They knew Simon wasn’t supporting Ben so they did what they could. Instead of unloading a carload of toys and games that we’d never have got round to playing with, they gave me practical gifts: three months’ worth of nappies, talcum powder, milk formula, bathing creams – essentials that they knew I’d have trouble affording. They were so very thoughtful. I just wished their son had half their class.

Ben was blessed with four of the best grandparents a child could wish for. But as wonderful as my dad, Cliff and Audrey were, I don’t know what I would have done without my mother. From the moment Ben was born she was there. She was with me every step of the way in hospital, reassuring me, guiding me. She knew I was terrified of making a mistake. She also knew how tired I was. So when I had to get up at two in the morning for a feed, she got up with me. Then again at five and at eight. She could comfort Ben while I prepared the formula, or I changed a nappy while she did it. Even if she did nothing, just having the moral
support was amazing. She was worth ten nurses. She really made me feel I deserved to be a mum. And I knew my son would never have a better person in his life than her.

Once the pressure of getting everything right subsided, I realised how much I loved being a mum. I’d always adored dolls, and for all my moaning I’d loved helping Mum bring up Danny, so I knew I had it in me. It was what I’d been put on earth to do, what I’d always dreamed of. I just hadn’t expected it to happen quite so soon.

Christmases are special times for children. Ben’s first was spent at Sandy Lodge. Danny was only ten and Stephen was still at school too, so there was a proper family environment. Cliff and Audrey came over with gifts on Boxing Day and the whole holiday period was high-spirited and fun, with good food, good company and thoughtful gifts. At the centre of it all was an oblivious little boy who couldn’t have been more loved.

As we moved into 1990, I began to enjoy a little more freedom. Mum offered to look after Ben for the odd morning or afternoon and, after a few days agonising about it, I agreed. I didn’t go very far the first time, even though I knew Mum and Dad would look after him as well as – if not better than – me. Gradually, I learnt to put the guilt aside and embrace my personal time. I started taking myself off to see friends or go shopping, or to just get some fresh air along the beach. After being cooped up for so long, having a few moments to myself was a godsend.

Other times I’d take Ben out in his pushchair to show him off to friends. They all thought he was cute but most of them were barely eighteen, like me, and even more immature. They couldn’t
imagine having a baby. Most only saw the negatives. They had no idea how someone so tiny and so young could be the best thing that had ever happened to me.

As I got more confident in my parenting skills I started travelling further afield. The first person I wanted to see down south was Grandma. Popping down to Sheffield to visit her, Granddad and my aunties and uncles became a regular occurrence. In the other direction, I had friends as far north as Mablethorpe, including my old boyfriend Darren Seabrook and his sister, Karen.

Once I had worked out which combination of buses would get me there, I set off.

After a lovely afternoon with them, I was heading back to the bus stop when I bumped into another new Mablethorpe resident. It was Shaun – Jane’s husband and, more importantly, Simon’s brother-in-law.

As much as I disliked Shaun, it was impossible to avoid him. So I said hello and enquired after his family. He seemed to take great relish telling me that they had a house guest I might be interested in: Simon.

‘I know he’d love to see his boy. Why don’t you come back with me?’

I should have ignored him. In the end, the idea of proving to Simon what he was missing out on – and with no parents to intervene – was just too tempting, and I followed Shaun home. A surprised Jane welcomed me in.

‘I’ve come to see Simon,’ I said, by way of explanation.

Jane looked at Shaun then back to me. ‘Didn’t Shaun tell you? Simon was staying but he’s gone back to Wales.’

I didn’t know who to be more cross with: Simon or Shaun. But Jane didn’t let her husband’s behaviour bother her, so I ignored it as well.

What I couldn’t ignore was when Jane mentioned that Simon had been living there with another woman. My face must have told her everything.

‘Oh my God – you didn’t know?’

Jane didn’t know where to look. As the apologies tumbled out of her, I caught my breath and calmed her down.

‘Please, Jane, it doesn’t matter.’

‘But …’

‘Seriously, I don’t care. I’ve got no feelings for Simon anymore.’ I looked down at the little bundle in my arms. ‘I just thought he deserved to see his son.’

I was putting on a brave front, but that part was true.

Jane decided to ring Simon and for the first time since our hospital call we spoke. He said if I waited there he would come straight back. Like a fool, I said, ‘Okay.’ But afternoon passed into evening and evening into night. If he’d set off when he’d claimed he was going to, he could have walked it. At six in the morning I scooped Ben into his buggy and walked back to the bus stop. Letting me down was one thing. Letting his son down was something else.

One of the disadvantages of living in a bungalow is that sound travels. I’d heard the doorbell and vaguely registered Dad calling out to say he was answering it. I was putting Ben down at the time so my mind was elsewhere. Suddenly, there was a crash as door smashed into frame and I knew exactly who had called.

‘The bloody cheek!’ Dad was fuming. ‘That was Simon. After all this time. He thinks he can swan up and play being a dad after leaving you in that pigsty! He’s got another thing coming.’

‘Where is he now?’ I asked.

‘What do you care? I slung him out. Told him to crawl back under whatever rock he’s been hiding under for the last six months.’

I went back to putting Ben down and thought little more about it. Two days later, we had a call from Cliff. He said Simon was staying there and he felt his son should be allowed to see Ben. Would we mind having a family-to-family meeting to discuss the way forward? Dad’s answer could be summed up in one two-letter word, but Mum and I outvoted him. I didn’t want to fall out with Cliff and Audrey. And, as much as I hated Simon, it wasn’t my right to deny Ben a father. He might have two ‘mums’, but a dad would be important later on. Especially for a boy.

The meeting began frostily but Cliff could calm any waters. I agreed that Simon should have access to Ben – within reason. He could either come to the bungalow or I would take Ben to his grandparents’ house where Simon was staying. My only concern was that someone should be around. It had taken me weeks to gain the confidence to look after a baby. I knew Simon would need help, whether he admitted it or not.

Over the following weeks and months I saw more and more of Simon. We never once discussed what had gone on before. He acted like it had never happened and I preferred to pretend it hadn’t. Then, one day he said he’d made a terrible mistake leaving me and would I ever consider giving him another chance?

I said yes.

I couldn’t have been thinking straight. It’s as if Simon had the power to bewitch me. I was so desperate to give Ben a father I
thought it would be easier if we were all together. And I knew I couldn’t stay at Mum and Dad’s for ever, but I also knew I didn’t want to be alone. Getting back with Simon just seemed to make sense. Even if the love I’d had for him was gone.

Leaving Mum and Dad was harder this time. They’d had the initial reactions I’d expected, then calmed down. I had to make my own decisions and my own mistakes; that was always their policy. This time, however, there was a real sadness in Mum’s eyes, almost like I’d betrayed her. Because it wasn’t just me leaving home. I was taking Ben, her beloved Ben. I couldn’t have hurt her more if I’d tried.

Simon got a job with his brother’s decorating business and we secured a two-bedroom council maisonette in the Norfolk Park area of Sheffield. It wasn’t a palace but it was clean and it had white walls. For someone with the right imagination it was perfect, a blank canvas, and Simon certainly had ideas. The first thing he did was put up a wall blocking off the lounge and dining area so we had two separate rooms – Dad loved knocking walls down, and I’d found a man who loved doing the opposite.

Animals intrigued Ben. He liked pointing at dogs and cats and birds when we were out and about, so we decorated his room with pictures of wildlife and jungle creatures and put a shelf near his bed for his fluffy toys. At five months, he liked playing with his bed sheet as much as the cuddly bears people had bought him, but I could see where his interests lay.

Ben was too young to say if he missed his Nan and Granddad but I know I did. You’re not meant to say this, but rattling around in a maisonette every day with just a baby for company can get on top of any mother. I could see my grandma or Jane, and Mum was
only a phone call away but, most days, from the time Simon went out in the morning to the point he returned, I often didn’t speak to another adult. The only other children we saw were at the park every day. I admit, I was lonely. But it was my choice and it was the best for Ben. I had to remind myself of that. Ben’s security had to come first.

I tried to fill our days as much as possible. I thought he’d like going to the rare breed animal park to see the pigs and sheep and miniature ponies, and mostly he enjoyed it. The huge pigs with tusks scared him. I don’t know if he thought they were dangerous or whether he decided they were just ugly. If they came close he’d squeeze me hard and bury his face in my neck.

Bearing in mind how we spent our days together, I wasn’t surprised to hear Ben’s first word: ‘Mum’. I knew it wasn’t an accident. He was looking directly at me with his big blue eyes when he said it. I was so happy I spent the rest of the day trying to make him say it again.

Within a few weeks he had quite a vocabulary based on what he could see. ‘Bott’ – short for ‘bottle’, because he didn’t have a dummy – was another early word. Of course, ‘cat’ and ‘dog’ came out very early, along with ‘bick bick’ – biscuit – and ‘toast’. And Simon got the shock of his life one evening when he came through the door and Ben cried out, ‘Dada!’ It’s almost worth going out just so you can see the delight on a baby’s face when you return.

Apart from my loneliness, I think we were genuinely a happy little family. Simon was conscientious about his work and he always had the time and inclination to do things around the maisonette at weekends. What had happened before was still unspoken. I just knew he wanted things to be right for us this
time. When he came home one day with a present for me, I realised how much he wanted it.

‘What’s this?’ I asked, although I could see it was clearly a ring box.

‘I thought we should get engaged.’

‘Well, that’s romantic.’

I couldn’t hide the sarcasm and we both laughed. It wasn’t exactly a scene from Mills & Boon. Even so, it’s not every day you have a marriage proposal, so of course I said yes.

Did I love him? Once again, I was putting my family first. At the same time, I was putting my roots down further in Sheffield. But I knew that if Simon and I were married, there would be no chance of me ever returning to my family’s home.

Maybe that was behind Mum making a decision that would soon change all our lives for ever.

It was Ben’s first birthday and everyone came to spoil him rotten at our house. He wasn’t that bothered about presents but he did love being the centre of attention. He loved the radio being on. He’d pull himself up against a chair or hold my hands and just bop around. Doing it for an audience seemed to be his favourite thing in the world. The more people looking and laughing at him, the more he would carry on giggling and dancing. He was a little star in the making.

We’d had a lovely day and Mum and I were washing up when she announced, ‘I need to tell you something. We’re moving to Kos.’

‘What do you mean you’re moving there? You’ve only just got back!’

Ben and I had left Chapel St Leonards in March. In June, Mum and Dad had taken the boys to Kos for a fortnight with Mum’s
sister Anne and her husband Terry. It was the first time ever the family had been abroad. I was really happy for all of them – even though I knew that if I’d still been living at home, Ben and I would have been put on a plane as well. On the other hand, had we never have left Chapel, maybe that holiday might never have happened. I got the feeling Mum was so hurt by me taking her grandson away she wanted an escape. Where better to escape to than a Greek island in summer?

They’d sent postcards and come back raving about it, so I knew they’d enjoyed their trip. Mum even said she wanted to move there. But who hasn’t said that after a brilliant vacation? There is a difference between loving a holiday and emigrating to the place. It was an infatuation. It would wear off, I was convinced of it.

Only it hadn’t. Mum had become depressed when they’d returned and started nagging at Dad to move to Kos. Like me, he’d dismissed it as post-holiday blues. But as the weeks passed, Mum continued to ask the same thing over and over:

‘Well, why can’t we?’

Then one day Dad answered. ‘I don’t know. Let’s do it.’

They sold up, bought a large caravan and an old Land Rover to tow it, then Dad spent a couple of months refurbishing both in his spare time. Finally, at the start of December, they were ready. Ben and I went up to wave them off. I needed to see it with my own eyes.

I was trying not to cry but you’d never have guessed. Mum and I were in floods. Luckily, Ben only had eyes for his uncles in the back of the Land Rover and their new travelling companion – a corgi they’d rescued, who happened also to be called Ben.

Eventually Dad prised me and Mum apart and they got going. Even as they pulled away I saw Mum repeat the words she’d said so often over the weeks:

‘Come with us.’

She knew I couldn’t. She knew I had a life of my own in Sheffield with Simon and Ben. Maybe that was her final shot at saving me from that life.