Daddy's Prisoner (27 page)

‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ she told me, and I wondered what she’d have to do to persuade Dad to let her come to the wedding.

Somehow she did but I was still worried because Dad was going to drive Mum up to the registry office and I couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing me marry. Steven told me he’d deal with it, though, and while I didn’t know how he was going to get The Idiot out of the way, I hoped he would. I wanted it to be our special day and that meant not having Dad anywhere near me when I said my vows.

After booking a slot at the local registry office, I went shopping for something to wear. No one knew about the wedding – not even Michael. He’d fallen out with Steven over something stupid and I was worried he’d think I was making a mistake so I’d decided not to tell him. Maybe I was being selfish but I didn’t want anything to burst the bubble of happiness around me.

But a few days before the wedding, my brother phoned.

‘Is there something you want to tell me?’ he asked, sounding a bit angry.

‘No.’

‘Are you sure, Alice?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Well, that’s not what I’ve heard. Dad’s told me you’re getting married.’

I should have known he’d try to stir up an argument any which way he could.

‘I’m sorry, Michael,’ I said. ‘It’s just that things are a bit difficult between you and Steven. I don’t want a big fuss made anyway.’

‘But you’re getting married, Alice, and what I think doesn’t matter. It’s your life and it’s time you made your own decisions.’

I immediately felt guilty because I should have known that Michael would be happy for me.

‘Anyway, I know what I’m going to give you as a wedding present,’ he said.

‘Don’t be daft,’ I exclaimed. ‘You don’t need to get us anything.’

‘But I want to. I’m going to do you a buffet after the ceremony. We’ve got to celebrate a little.’

‘Are you sure? It will be so much trouble.’

‘Come on, sis. I want to do it. You’ll be surprised at how good I’ve got at cooking.’

Michael had worked in hotel kitchens so I knew he’d do me proud but I wasn’t sure if I wanted a party. It meant even more people would know about the wedding and I felt nervous about the attention. But I agreed to his plan because I didn’t want to upset him again and Steven was pleased.

By the time the day arrived, I was almost beside myself with nerves. Steven was at home and I was at my cousin Sam’s house where his girlfriend was helping me get ready in the cream dress I’d bought to wear. Emma was wearing a beautiful flowery dress with a matching hat and I was going to leave her to be looked after by Michael and Julie during the ceremony. I waited nervously until the doorbell rang which told me that Dad had arrived in the car with Mum to pick me up.

‘It’ll never last,’ he sneered as I opened the door.

I knew exactly what he’d been saying to anyone who’d listen: I was a stupid fool, desperate, my marriage was a joke because I’d mess it up within months.

‘Hi, Mum,’ I said as I got into the car. ‘You look lovely.’

I’d never seen Mum looking so smart. She was wearing a pale blue dress and jacket and I fixed my eyes on the back of her head as we drove to the registry office. I had to block Dad out of my mind. I wanted Mum to be here so I just had to find a way to ignore that he was even with us. But the journey to the registry office seemed to go on for ever. Would The Idiot deliberately try to make us late or even stop me from getting to the registry office at all? Was he determined to ruin this day for me? As I sat in the back of the car, I prayed Steven would be as good as his word. I didn’t know how he was going to get Dad out of the way but I knew he had to. This was one thing The Idiot wasn’t going to take from me, one hour of one day that I didn’t want him to be part of.

We walked into the foyer of the registry office to find Steven and Sam waiting for us. They smiled as a woman came towards us.

‘Are you ready?’ she asked as she pointed to our left. ‘I’m going to take you into that room over there where we’ll conduct the ceremony.’

She turned to Dad.

‘Only four people are allowed in,’ she said. ‘If you’d like to wait here that would be fine.’

The Idiot’s face was like thunder as we started to walk away. He looked fit to murder someone then and there. But he couldn’t say a word as the door closed and Mum took my hand.

‘I told you I wouldn’t let you down,’ she whispered, and we smiled at each other.

Happiness bubbled up inside me. Mum’s eyes were bright. We’d shown him. I couldn’t believe Steven had done as he’d promised – kept me safe on the most important day of my life. I felt so brave and excited.

‘Thank you,’ I whispered to him as we stood beside each other.

When the ceremony was over, The Idiot pushed his way into the room to see the signing of the register but I didn’t care. I had got married without him and after we’d written out our names, I kissed Steven as we walked towards the door where Sam was standing with his camcorder to take a film of us. I wanted to laugh as I looked at Dad’s face. He looked ready to burst a blood vessel.

After today, I felt brave enough for anything. Dad had always told me this day would never come and now it had. I was going to prove him wrong. I knew a man could be tender and talk to a woman without hurting her; that I could have happiness and maybe I wasn’t as bad as he’d always made me believe. I’d show him that I could be married and happy just like other women. I didn’t need to intimidate people or terrorise them like he did to have a family. Steven, Emma and I were together and I’d show him that I could make it work.

Later we arrived at Michael’s flat and it took my breath away. Laid out on the table were huge bowls of food and bottles of wine and cans of beer. Party poppers banged as we walked into the living room to see Michael, Julie, the girls, Simon, Sam and some of my other cousins and their partners.

‘Congratulations!’ they all shrieked.

‘I can’t believe you’ve done all this,’ I said as Michael hugged me.

‘Why not? I used to do it when we were kids, didn’t I?’

We had a brilliant night – laughing, chatting and singing together while The Idiot sat glowering in a corner. When I finally got home with Steven and we put Emma down to sleep, I sat and reran the day in my mind. It had been perfect, just as I’d always dreamed it would be: the best day of my life.

Three months later I fell pregnant again. Steven and I were going to have another baby. We were a proper family now and I could almost believe that I’d finally left the past behind me. But soon I would learn that however much I tried to outrun my memories, they would always catch up with me in the end.

I think those first couple of years after I escaped were like the first few seconds when you fall over – you know you’re hurt but can’t feel it yet. For two years, Steven and I were really happy but by the time our second daughter Lily was born, the cracks had started to appear. I thought burying the past would make it go away but I was wrong. As time went on, my nightmares started to return and I pushed Steven away as the memories overwhelmed me. Sometimes, I’d wake up and swear I could smell The Idiot on my skin or hear his voice taunting me. Even during the day, I couldn’t forget the worthlessness he’d drilled into me as it crept back inside.

Maybe Steven was too young to cope with the responsibilities of a family or maybe when I told him who I really was he didn’t want me any more. I don’t know what had made things fall apart so quickly but as soon as we got married and real life started, it was as if we did not know each other any more. I felt completely rejected and developed severe post-natal depression after Lily’s birth in 2000. I’d sit for hours staring into space or crying endlessly as I remembered the past. The guilt I had pushed down for so many years about my miscarriages, Jonathan and Caitlin flooded over me. Now I had two children, I felt even more of a monster. Vivid memories filled me and Dad’s words rang in my head as I wondered if I could do anything right. I felt as if I could hardly cope with Lily and Emma – they never stopped needing something from me and I was drained of all energy and strength. I loved them, of course, but how could I be a good mum when I was such a bad person?

If I wasn’t the woman Steven thought he’d married, though, he wasn’t the man I believed he was either. As things between us got worse, he spent more and more time out with friends and sometimes our fights were vicious when he finally got home. The happy and kind man I had fallen in love with had disappeared and although I didn’t completely understand what had driven him away, I was sure it was my fault. I knew I should never have told him about my past because Steven found it even more difficult to forget than I did. Always, we came back to the same argument: why did I stay so long? Why didn’t I run away years before? I hardly knew what the answers were myself, and the more Steven asked me about it, the guiltier I felt. Maybe Dad was right, maybe I was as weak and stupid as he had always told me, if even the man I’d loved and trusted couldn’t understand.

The questions Steven asked cut into my heart because they were the same ones I asked myself.

‘Why did you stay?’ he’d ask repeatedly. ‘Everyone has a choice in life.’

The guns and knives, my guilt about the kids being taken into care, my hope that one day I’d save Mum as well as myself – the list of reasons was endless. But how can you describe to someone who’s never been really afraid about the power fear can have? How can you explain the chains it can clamp around you? I was just a child when The Idiot first hurt me and the seeds of terror he planted were buried so deep that it took years to find the strength to disobey him.

Steven just couldn’t understand why I saw Mum and The Idiot. It wasn’t often but I sometimes went to visit them or help Michael clean and tidy the flat if there had been complaints from neighbours about the state of it. I’d see Mum then for a few days until the place was a bit straighter before dropping out of touch again for a few weeks or months until I got another phone call to say she needed help or was in hospital. I tried to explain to Steven that although I hated Dad, I still loved Mum and couldn’t visit her without seeing him.

But he could not understand, even though I wasn’t the only one who behaved like this. Michael hadn’t wanted to see Dad all those years ago when we moved back after the kids went into care but did it to give Mum a break. Now he continued to put up with The Idiot for the same reason I did.

Michael had also got back in touch with Laura somehow and told me she was married. No one knew where Kate was because she had been fostered for so long that she had a new family. But our little brother Charlie, who had not been so lucky and spent time in and out of children’s homes, chose to stay with Mum and Dad when he came back into our lives. My baby brother was nineteen when I met him again and, just as I’d felt with Simon, it was upsetting to remember how much I’d loved the tiny boy who was now a man I didn’t know. Charlie had been in and out of care and was obviously very affected. He couldn’t read and reminded me of a child in a man’s body.

All of us struggled to deal with the effects of the past in different ways. I think maybe Charlie turned up to see us hoping to somehow make sense of it all but things soon went wrong when he went to live with The Idiot, who wanted to dictate his every move. Charlie, though, had been away long enough to resent Dad’s controlling ways and left – disappearing out of our lives for ever after deciding that he didn’t want to have anything more to do with his family. Simon had also moved away after leaving my flat and we didn’t see too much of him. When Laura got back in touch with Mum and Dad and invited them to stay with her and her husband, The Idiot made trouble there too. I spoke to her occasionally on the phone but our relationship was as damaged as all the others. Meanwhile I knew Michael sometimes drowned his memories with alcohol.

We were all scarred but, like many abused children, couldn’t cut all ties with the father who’d hurt us. There are many children who are beaten and burned with cigarettes, betrayed and abused for years, who still want to be with the person who hurt them. A child’s love for its parents is a powerful thing and however warped and twisted it is, however abused and trampled on, it often doesn’t die.

But I think it was all too much for Steven to understand and his anger only convinced me that no one else ever would. He resented my visits to see Mum and just seemed to get angrier all the time.

We were both to blame for the problems: I couldn’t let go of Mum and Steven couldn’t bring himself to understand. We argued more and more and soon the doctor put me on tablets to try to help me cope better. I felt so trapped: the more Steven and I argued, the more disobedient the girls became and the more frustrated I got. Soon I found myself shouting at Emma and Lily about tiny things as Steven threw my anger back in my face.

‘Have you listened to yourself?’ he’d shout. ‘Do you want to end up like him?’

I knew there was so much anger inside me and I tried the best I could to control it until a day came when I realised I couldn’t cope any more. Emma was being scratchy – I can’t remember if she’d tipped her food on to the floor or drawn on the wall – and I felt the anger rush up inside me. But instead of walking out of the room, I picked up the TV remote and hurled it at the wall in frustration. I watched in horror as it bounced off the wall and hit Emma on the leg. She wasn’t hurt, just shocked, but as she cried in my arms, I knew I had to do something. Soon afterwards, I contacted social services to ask for help. I told them I wasn’t coping and wanted to be a better mother. I was so scared something of Dad was left inside me that I had to act. Would I end up like him? Would I really hurt my girls one day if I lost control? I knew I would die if I did.