Mummy, Make It Stop (11 page)

Anna tried again. ‘Louise, come on, let’s go.’

‘No . . . no . . . no,’ I yelled.

I felt sure we were being sent to the same place that Paul had gone to, as a punishment for what we had done. I had no idea we were being taken for our own protection. I was convinced we were going to jail.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ I sobbed. How I wished we had kept quiet and not said anything.

Anna had hold of my arm. I struggled to pull away from her, then another lady grabbed hold of my other arm and between them they pulled and shoved me into the back of the police car. Tanya and Jamie were calmer and walked to the car on their own. Perhaps they understood more about what was going on, or perhaps they just realised there was no point in fighting.

Sitting beside me in the back seat, Jamie did something he had never done before. He put his arms round me and told me not to cry and that it would be OK.

But it wasn’t OK. My throat ached from screaming and tears poured down my face. It wasn’t OK and it wasn’t going to be OK.

Through the car window, I could see Mum trying desperately to fight her way over to us. There were several police officers holding her back. Then the car was moving and we were off down the street, with me still sobbing and Jamie and Tanya sitting quietly either side of me, staring at the floor.

It’s hard to describe how I felt at that moment. I knew that my life would never be the same again, ever. I had lost my mum and my home and I was being taken somewhere I didn’t want to go and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I felt as if my world was ending. I was being punished for telling on George and Terry. Mum was all I had, I loved her, and now even she was gone.

The drive seemed to last a lifetime. Anna was in the front of the car, beside the policeman who was driving, and she explained, twisting in her seat to look at us, that we were going to a nice place where we would all be safer. I didn’t understand at all. What did she mean we would be much safer where we were going? They had taken us away from our mum - how were we going to feel safer?

A while later, we pulled up outside a large red-brick building with big windows. It looked really old, like a haunted house in a film. Anna led us up the steps. ‘This is a children’s home,’ she told us. ‘I’m sure you’ll like it here.’

When we reached the front door, a lady opened it and said hello, before leading us into a large entrance hall. Anna came in with us, and then said goodbye and told us that we’d be looked after here and that she’d come and see us tomorrow.

Our feet echoed on the bare wooden floor as we were ushered into a small office with white walls and a table and several chairs in the middle of it. To one side were a desk and a few filing cabinets, with boxes piled up next to them. As we stood in the doorway, a woman got up from behind the desk and came towards us. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘My name is Ruth and I’m in charge here. Come and sit down.’

Silently, we filed in and sat in the chairs around the table, all three of us white-faced with shock. I had cried so much I felt completely drained and exhausted. My body ached and my eyes looked dully around without really seeing. I didn’t care what they said to us or what they did. I just wanted to go home to Mum.

Ruth spoke for the next few minutes, but I don’t think any of us took in a word she said. She sounded calm, but brisk and not very friendly. I looked over at Tanya, hoping that she would be able to make some sense out of all this and explain what was going on, but she looked empty and sad and blank. It was as though we all felt this wasn’t really happening at all and we were in the middle of a bad dream.

Sadly, though, it was no dream. This big, ugly, cold house was to be our home now. That much I understood.

When Ruth had finished talking, a lady came in with a plate of sandwiches. We’d missed tea, Ruth said, so this was all they could do. The three of us sat over our plates without saying a word. I didn’t even see the sandwiches in front of me. I put one in my mouth and it tasted like cardboard. I felt as if I was going to be sick.

After tea, Ruth took us to see the rooms where we would be sleeping. The first door she opened was at the top of the stairs. ‘This is where you’ll be, Louise,’ she said. I stared at the little room, with its single bed, and my lips wobbled as it dawned on me that I was to be in here on my own. For the first time in my life, Tanya wasn’t going to be with me. I felt panicky and my eyes filled with tears. Where would Tanya be? And what if I needed her or got scared in the night? I wouldn’t even be able to leave the door open; all the rooms had heavy fire-doors which slammed shut behind you. I wanted to beg Ruth to let me sleep with Tanya, but I didn’t dare say a word.

Tanya and Jamie were shown to identical rooms further along the corridor. Then we were taken back downstairs into what Ruth called the games room. It was a big, open-plan room with a dining table and a hatch through to the kitchen at one end, and a pool table, a TV and some arcade machines at the other end. Eight or nine rough-looking kids - all of them older than me and Tanya - were playing pool or standing around the arcade machines.

The three of us hung back, awkward and shy, as the kids sized us up. None of them spoke to us, and we didn’t join in, we just went over to some seats near the TV and sat there, staring at it without even noticing what was on.

That evening, Nanna came over with some of our things in a small suitcase. We were allowed to talk to her for a few minutes. I was glad to see Nanna, who was a little warmer than usual. She asked if we were all right and told us Mum was crying, so she couldn’t stay long, as she needed to get back to her. She told us Mum wouldn’t be allowed to come and see us for a while, and I started crying again. Nanna said she would come back and see us again soon, then she left.

That night I unpacked the little suitcase. Only my clothes were in it. Not my teddy or my beloved doll. I got into the cold bed and lay there, feeling more alone than ever before. I had cried so much I had no more tears; I just stared into the darkness, wishing I had my little doll, Amber, to cuddle, or the comforting sound of Tanya’s breathing on the other side of the room.

I had lost everything. Now I had to live in this ugly house, where I didn’t want to be, with new people who were nothing to do with me. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the way I felt. Unloved, uncared for and lost.

Chapter Eight

In the end I must have slept a little. I woke when Ruth came in and told me to get dressed and come down for breakfast. I felt heavy and tired, but I dragged myself up, put on my clothes and went down to the dining area. When I got there, most of the other kids were already sitting around the big table.

There were about ten of us altogether. I was the youngest - most of the rest were teenagers who ignored me or looked at me as if I was something the cat had brought in. I sat down and looked around for the food. Then I realised that none of the kids were eating - they seemed to be waiting for something. A couple of minutes later, a boy of about fifteen sauntered in. He went over to the counter where the cereals were laid out and helped himself, before coming over to sit down. After that, everyone else went to get some cereal.

I didn’t understand it, but I soon learned that the boy was called Wayne and he was king pin. He’d been there longer than anyone else, which seemed to give him the right to do as he chose. If you didn’t give him first pick of all the meals, he would get you alone later and give you a beating. The staff knew this, but they took no notice and just let him do it.

I was shocked. It made me hate the place even more than I already did. It certainly wasn’t at all like a real home. It was cold and unfriendly and the staff didn’t seem interested in the children - it was clearly just a job to them. Ruth, the one we’d already met, was the manager. She was in her thirties, short and chunky, and, as we discovered, she only ever dressed in the same clothes - a t-shirt, jumper and jeans. She spent a lot of time in the kitchen or in her office, drinking endless cups of black coffee. She wasn’t the sort of person you could approach with a problem or a worry; she just didn’t want to be bothered by the kids. Another staff member, Nathan, was in his thirties. He was very quiet and paced around with his hands behind his back. We thought he was a bit weird. There were several others who did shifts and then disappeared, but Ruth seemed to be there the whole time.

For the first couple of weeks, I found it very difficult to settle, especially at night. My small bedroom had heavy cord carpet on the floor and a bed like the ones in hospital. Nothing about it was friendly or warm, and when I went to bed, even though I was tired, I didn’t want to close my eyes. It was all too scary and different and horrible. I knew Tanya and Jamie were in rooms down the corridor and I wished I could see them, but I didn’t dare get up and go and look for them.

Early on, Ruth came in and went through all my clothes, taking away the more precocious ones that Terry had bought. I didn’t understand why at the time, and felt angry that not even my clothes were mine any more. Strangely, I was still allowed to wear make-up; the staff didn’t seem to mind. No doubt they had their own reasons for letting me carry on, but whatever they were, I was delighted, and used to put on as much make-up as I could whenever I wasn’t at school.

During our first few days, Tanya and I were taken to visit the local primary school, where we would be starting. I didn’t care what it looked like, it was just another school. I wanted my old school, where at least everything was familiar. After the visit, we went to get our uniforms - navy blue skirts, ties and jumpers, with white shirts. This cheered me a little. I loved having a uniform instead of tatty old clothes - for the first time I would be the same as the other kids in school.

Jamie was allowed to stay at his old school, and was sent there by taxi, while Nathan walked me and Tanya to our new school the day after we got our uniforms. It was only ten minutes away, and after that, he said, we would be walking there on our own.

The teacher, who was tall and slim with long blonde hair, introduced me to the class. She was nice, but I felt lost. It was halfway through the term and I had no idea how to fit in or what to do. At breaktimes I wandered around, trying to find someone to talk to, but most of the kids ignored me. The only person who spoke to me was a boy with bright orange hair. He said his name was Mark, and he was nice. He was to be my only real friend while I was there - the two of us were outcasts together - and although we weren’t very close, it meant I had someone to talk to.

I never told any of the kids that I was in care. I already felt different from the rest of them, without that to complicate things even further.

I struggled with the work, as I was miles behind everyone else. There was no extra help; I was just expected to manage. I did my best, but it was impossible for me to catch up, so I always felt like the stupid one.

After the first few weeks, I did manage to get talking to a girl called Poppy - someone else who didn’t really have any friends - and I was thrilled when she asked me to tea. I skipped the whole way home that day, wondering what her house would be like and what we would have to eat. But my hopes were dashed when I rushed in to ask Ruth if I could go and she told me that everyone in Poppy’s family would have to be police-checked before I could visit their house. I was sure they would never agree, so it was with a heavy heart and deep embarrassment that I went to school the next day and told Poppy the news - begging her not to tell the other kids that I was in care.

I never did get to go to her house. From then on, Poppy began to give me a wide berth. No doubt she’d been warned to stay away from me because her parents didn’t want her hanging around with a girl from a kids’ home, especially one with a reputation for housing out-of-control kids who went around the neighbourhood spraying graffiti, smashing swings in the playground at the park and drinking and smoking.

After that, I didn’t really try to be friends with anyone. I just hung around by myself. I told myself I didn’t care - I’d never had any friends before, so why should it be different now? People had always thought I was trash. But deep down it hurt me badly, knowing that now I was in a children’s home my last hope of being able to make a friend was gone.

At Cranley it was the kids who were in charge, not the adults. It was more like a youth club with bedrooms than a real home. Top of the roost was Wayne, who terrorised everyone, even the staff. They would turn a blind eye as he battered and bullied any kid who stood in his way. Wayne had first pick of everything - from the clothes and food to what we watched on TV that night. It was more like a prison, where the toughest inmates ruled, than a home for children.

Jamie fell out with him several times. He couldn’t see why Wayne should have his pick of everything, so he refused to put up with it, and Wayne was furious. He hit Jamie many times, making his nose bleed and on one occasion getting him on the floor and kicking him. The staff saw what was going on, but they didn’t intervene.

The boys in the home were constantly fighting. There were punch-ups every day. Most of them were ignored by the staff, but one night there was such a massive brawl that the staff had to jump in and break it up before several boys got badly hurt. As ever, Wayne was at the centre of it.

Jamie, Tanya and I quickly realised that to survive we were going to have to toughen up. If we wanted to avoid becoming targets for bullying, we had to join in with being rude to the staff, swearing all the time and taking the mickey out of anyone who was ripe for picking on. Not surprisingly, our behaviour deteriorated fast. Desperate to impress the older, tougher kids, I went from being quiet and shy to becoming a disruptive, argumentative kid, looking out for trouble with anyone who got in my way.