Amelia's story (15 page)
Authors: D. G Torrens
C
hildren’s
H
ome
I had not long turned twelve
years old when I arrived at Maidstone
C
hildren’s
Home.
This was a small unit within the grounds of the main Maidstone complex, the purpose of which was to determine the best place to send me in the near future, depending on the
ir
observation of me.
If they thought you could cope with being sent far away into a large children’s home, which would house at least one hundred children at any one time, then that’s where they would send you as this was best for them financially. If they thought you were not able to deal with such a placement then you would remain at the Maidstone Children’s Home and be
transferred to their main unit.
H
owever
,
places were very limited and not
often available, so on occasion
they had no choice but to send you where
ver
there was a placement available. Large institutio
ns were rife in the 70s and 80s.
T
hese children’s homes were dotted all o
ver the country
and they were full of faceless children, who as far as the rest of the world was concerned were under the radar and did not exist.
I was to remain at Maidstone
C
hildren’s
H
ome for three months,
and
I was not sent to school during this period of time while I was being assessed. I was to remain in the confines of the unit; a member of staff had to be present at all times except when you went to the bathroom.
It was at Maidstone
C
hildren’s Home when my first period arrived
.
I woke up one morning crying,
and there was blood everywhere.
I had
no idea what had happened to me.
I thought I was seriously ill and
started screaming.
Tracy, a
member of staff
,
came running up the stairs
calling,
“Amelia
,
what is it
,
a
re you ok
ay?
” I pulled back my bedclothes
and cried. Tracy
looked at me with the m
ost genuine smile on her face.
S
he held my hand and went on to explain exactly what had happened to me. My body had made the transition from child to
woman
o
ver night while I was sleeping.
I had never been educated on such things before
,
so the arrival of this was a total shock and most unexpected. Tracy went and fetched me the necessary toiletries needed on such an important day
. She went on to say that I might
not feel myse
lf for a few days and that I might
have tummy cramps. I did not like this move into woman
hood one little bit;
it was rather painful to say the least and most inconvenient.
There was not much to do at Maidstone, which gave me ample time to think about Jake, Jenny
, and Susie.
I was filled with sadness from head to toe. I asked if I could make a phone call to Breeton House to speak to J
ake, but my request was denied.
I was informed it was in both our interests. I refused to speak to anyone for two days following this denial and could not understand how a simple and understandable request could be denied. What could be the harm in allowing
me to speak to my brother Jake?
I later found out Jake had made similar requests and was also denied them. Just hearing his voice would have made me feel so much better, maybe given me the lift that I needed to make it easier to deal with the coming days ahead.
I
was given a literacy test while
I was there and scored above average
for my age, coming out at age fourteen
years rath
er than the twelve years that I was.
I was also tested on my mathematic skills and again scored above average
,
which I felt rather proud of. They were very surprised at this considering my up
bringing and poor schooling.
They were openly amazed at my reading and writing skills and said as much
,
which was really good to
hear. Hearing
positive things about myself was not something I was accustomed to.
My mother was always telling me I was no good,
and
I would never amount to anything. When you hear those words often enough you start to believe the
m. I was asked many questions such as, “W
hat wo
uld you like to do when I grow up?
What are your dreams and desires?” My answer was always the same:
I just want to survive my childhood.
Following my final assessment at the Maidstone Children’s Home
,
they said they had found a place for me in a
boarding school next to a farm.
T
he school worked closely with the farm
,
and they thought this would be a good move for my education rather than
losing
me in th
e system and placing me in
another children’s home somewhere in the country.
I had passed the necessary tests to warrant a placement in such a
great school. I liked this idea.
I was informed
that the
boarding school was an all girl’s school; the cost would be met by
Social Services
as they thought I was a perfect candidate and had a lot of potential. This was the first time in my life anyone had taken the trouble to see me, I mean really see me,
and
someone actually cared about what happened to me and was trying to do their best by
me.
T
hings were looking up
,
and I was excited about leaving t
he care system once and for all.
I could not wait to start my new school although they could not fix a date until my mother had signed the forms agreeing to all this.
Even though I was a ward of the state
,
the
Social Services
still needed my mother’s permission on many decisions made in my life. It was explained to her that this would be good for me, that I could go far in life with the relevant
support. T
hese words alone were enough for my mother to refuse her signature
.
“I don’t want Amelia growing up thinking she is better than me
,
”
w
ere my mother’s exact words. She never signed the relevant documents and so my placement was given to another very lucky girl.
I cried for days.
W
hy would she not sign the forms? Why did she hate me so much? Why was she there with a stopper at every stage in my life? More importantly, why was she allowed to be? I was a ward of the state
,
so could they do nothing? It seemed as though my mother had made it her life’s mission to ensure that any good thing that came my way to improve
my
life was hers to take away. The very thought of improvement in my life angered her.
I was so devastated at the very thought of remaining in a chil
dren’s home until I was sixteen.
I knew I would be lost in the system like hundreds before me,
and
I knew my mother had taken away the one and only chance I had of a normal life. She must have felt so muc
h hatred and resentment toward
me to keep doing these things.
My
fate was sealed
,
and I was to be transferred to North Wales, Bryn Tyn Children’s Home. I crie
d like I had never cried before.
Y
et again on the move to goodness knows where, this time miles away from Shropshire. I was taken out shopping to buy some new clothes to take with me to Bryn Tyn; each child in care was allocated so much money for clothing allowance per year. I had just spent min
e;
it was nice to have new clothes and go to a proper shop to buy them, and I was like a kid in a candy store. I bought two new skirts, two new tops
,
a pair of jeans
, and a pair of shoes that
would have to last me the next
twelve
months.
Before I was transferred to Bryn Tyn
,
my mother had requested a home visit as she told them it would be a long time before she s
aw me again. I felt nervous and was not happy at all;
however, I reluctantly agreed as I wanted to ask her why she had denied me the chance to go to boarding school. I was dropped off at home for one day to be picked up around teatime. My mother seemed really pleased to see me
.
S
he was all smiles and hugs
, which was very unlike her. S
he said we were going
on a picnic to Thomas Moor Lake, and
she wanted to spend one last day with me before I was sent to Bryn Tyn. I believed her and thought maybe she was feeling sorry for denying the state
’
s request to send me to boarding school. Little did I know she had
ulterior motives for wanting to see me.
When we reached the park it was full of families having picnics with the
ir children.
T
here were very small boats gliding up and down the lake, the sun w
as shining, and it was a lovely day.
I was wearing my new clothes and sporting a new haircut, well a trim
,
really. After about an hour my
m
other stood up out of the blue and started to scream her usual insults
.
“
Y
ou slut, you’re a dirty slut
!
”
s
he s
creamed at the top of her voice.
Everyone was looking at us.
I shouted back at her
,
“
W
hat are you talking a
bout, and
w
hy are you saying those things
?
M
om
,
please stop
this.
”
I di
d not know this was all a setup
by her to aid a complaint she had made against Kieran her husband. She slapped me across the face so hard
,
then just walked off and left me
.
I had no idea what had just happened. I was sobbing so hard. I called Maidstone Children’s Home and asked to be picked up from the park as my mother had just walked off and left me.
On my return to the
children’s home,
Tracy sat me down
and
then asked me what had happened.
I told
her everything.
I asked her what I had
done wrong.
Tracy said
,
“
Y
ou have done nothing wrong
,
Amelia, don’t ever think that all
of
this is your fault
.”
That was the first time anyone had ever said that to me. I did not hear any more from my mother for a few days until one morning, the day before I was about to be transferred to Bryn Tyn, I was called into the manager
’
s office
.
S
itting the
re already was my Social Worker
and a policewoman.
