The next month starts like a whirlwind, no matter how I try to rein it in, it's speed has me loosing grasp constantly.
My plan to have things to look forward to is going well. I'm excited as I pour the cranberry juice into the jug of "woo woo". Then take the sliced pitta and dips through to the front room. Buffet and drinks at mine before we hit town for a long over due night out. It's great to see everyone, I am excited to put on my heels. After a catch up, photos and drinks, we all end up in a bar that's virtually empty, not that we care, making up our own fun, taking photos and having a blast, and liven up the quiet place. We decide to move on to a more lively bar as the night goes on, meeting up with more friends and all dancing to the live band, I haven't seen this group before, but its been a year since I was out like this, the regular bands I was used to are probably playing bigger gigs now. This night is just getting better as the singer rocks out to one of my favourite songs and I'm instantly up out of my seat and calling my friends to come and dance with me. I love being out, I love being out with my friends and for the first time ever, I feel like I have nobody to answer to, just me. Paul knew how sociable I was from when me first started chatting, I was always up to something with my friends, always surrounded by other people, people who I had chose to be in my life. He knew how possessive Harry has been; from some of they things that I have talked about with Paul. In all the years I was separated from Harry, when I went out, I was never looking for anything, I never gave my contact information out, politely telling the guy I was married when I got into a conversation, and they request my number at the end of our chat. Paul knew this, only unlike Harry he trusted me, and it felt great.
The freedom was short lived when I got a text saying
"Goodnight"
from Harry, he knew I had come out without my key, I had called him as soon as I remembered it was it my other bag, having changed my handbag at the last second, I hadn't transferred over my tinker bell designed key. Harry had told me not to worry, he would be up all night, had loads to work on. So when I receive this text I call him straight away, only he doesn't answer. I keep calm, I begin to text him, but the vibration comes to my phone before I finish the third word.
"What do you want? Trying to sleep"
oh crap, now panic starts as I realise he's in bed. I text as fast as I can, reminding him I was keyless.
"Sleep out,"
his response, fastly followed by
"Not my problem anymore,"
I am panicking, I don't have my contact lens case, or any of the other things I would need to sleep out. I feel my face get hot as I try to work out a plan, I grit my teeth and go back to we're my friends are sitting, I ask for a lift, ordering a taxi would take to long, I'm gutted, it's only 10.30pm but I have no idea what else to do. My friends are sad I have to go, I couldn't feel worse. As I walk back up the path and lightly tap the front door, Harry answers, fully clothed with a coffee in his hand,
"I couldn't sleep, gonna finish off that site gallery,"
I blink away a tear and say
"Good luck,"
as I walk into the kitchen, the room that Harry was just in making himself a victory coffee, I go in and pour myself a losers drink, an apple vodka and lemonade. I toast to nobody as I knock the drink back. I look at the bottle that's almost empty and think about how it was full the day before Christmas Eve.
Christmas Eve last year, I had felt lower than low, I always sort out Christmas, Birthdays, Easter, any of the celebrations, they fell to me. I have everything ready well in time, bought, wrapped and hidden. Last year was no different, only come four thirty, and having gone days without seeing my friends, spent nights walking back and forth on my own to my local, where in the pub, I only ever bought soft drinks, as the clock was turning to half past four, I decided to have a drink, it was Christmas Eve after all, it wasn't like I had anywhere to go, a chastising Harry had bragged earlier and reminded me of my situation. The drink hit the spot with ease, it was my favourite and the bottle was bought by my friends, knowing its my alcoholic beverage of choice. I was bought three bottles last year, but this was the first one to be opened. I pour myself another and go and sit with the kids watching "Mary Poppins," it's not long until I am on drink number four, the fruity flavour disguises the high percent alcoholic drink and it's not until I get up to go to the bathroom that I realise I'm drunk, having always been a lightweight with alcohol, I know that two drinks is enough when I go out. I hadn't stopped at two this afternoon, so after I make it to the bathroom, I knock on Harrys door and enter the room I used to call mine. The heat hits me as I walk in, having two super computers on as long as he does makes it the warmest room in the house.
"I'm drunk,"
I tell Harry, no point in hiding it and I felt awful to have done it at home, where my kids are. Harry was really upset with me, asking me why. He angrily went downstairs and made me a coffee, he thrusted it into my hand, he told me to drink it when he walked back into the room. It was really strong and I ended up dashing to the loo, I was instantly sick. I cleaned myself up, and went back into the room, I felt really ashamed. A bit more coffee was what Harry subscribed and another sip and I dashed into the bathroom, I was a mess but I had started to sober with the thoughts of what I'd done.
I never drunk in front of my kids, in fact up until last year we never had alcohol in the house. Harry would say he had an addictive personality, his excuse for finishing off a whole bottle of wine once opened or the four pack of beer, he couldn't help himself, so he told me it was best not to have it in, but with me socialising more and feeling fed up of not being able to have a drink in because he couldn't control himself, I had slowly brought some spirits into the cupboards, it was a normal thing to have in. Harry had so far restrained himself from spirits so at least that was something, but I had no excuse for what I had done that night, at least whatever reason I had, I wasn't admitting it yet, I felt sorry for myself as the hour turned to Christmas morning, with downstairs prepared for the excitement of Christmas morning, I drag my single duvet that usually covered me whilst on the couch, the couch that my kids would sit on, while they opened the presents that lay waiting for them when we get up in the morning, I wipe my tears and tried hard not to sniff, as I lay down on what used to be my side of the bed. I pulled myself as close to the edge as I can. I fall asleep to Harry clicking his mouse button and pressing his keys on the keyboard.
I shudder remembering the lows that have happened. The sadness that I now hoped I was leaving behind.
"Thank you for bringing me home,"
I text, feeling sad that my friends are still out while my night has been cut short, I finish my drink and clear the mess I had left from the bits left from our buffet, Harry has put a dint in it, but I have always over catered when it comes to party food, the kids will enjoy the excess tomorrow. I get into my bed and turn on the television just as my boyfriend, on his break, texts asking how my night out is going.
I feel really nervous, I haven't been out to a party with a partner by my side, since Harry and I were just married and it was the freshers week at the university were we had moved to for Harry to do his degree. I had been told I wasn't experienced enough to get a place on the course and although at the time I was gutted, the interviewing tutor had been right, but as Harry will tell anyone, I got him through his degree, both being so interested in the graphical subject, we would mind map through his briefs and come up with the ideas together, Harry being dyslexic made the academic side of the course really hard for him, so I stepped in, helping him come up with essay plans and even writing a few for him. But at the start of his course, just after we were married and we had moved to Blackpool to live in a bed and breakfast that was a five minute walk from the college, we took part in the week that's dedicated to first year students. I found it really hard, I couldn't help but to be the social butterfly, wanting to make an effort to get to know Harrys course mates, the people he would be in college with for the next three years, but Harry got really upset, telling me off for leaving him alone, I had explained that he should mingle too, he had a lot more alcohol and then he managed it, but from then on I knew, any nights out meant I would have to stay besides my husband or suffer the threats of him walking out and leaving me to find my way home, or if he could drink a good bit, put up with an overly happy really drunk man that I would have to see home and suffer the hungover anger from him the next morning. After we had kids, nights out together have been very rare, Harry is uncomfortable and overly stressed around drunk people, ever fearful they would turn violent, the paranoia, his continued worries about how people got lairy when drunk, made the experience of being out with my husband too much to bare. I could never relax with him. So when Paul asked me to come to a friends birthday night out with him, I feel really dubious for as to what it would be like. I needn't worry, I have a lovely time, Paul is attentative but spends time chatting to his friends, it feels like such a good balance, I really enjoy meeting people he has known for years and when we are waiting for our taxi as we leave the party, Paul wraps me in his arms to help me to stop shivering in this cold, end of winter night. I know this is it, he is so good for me, all I have ever wanted, to be out with the man I am with, enjoying life, knowing I had kids at home but that my time away from them was for me, so I could let my hair down, have fun and then go home and continue my home life. I am almost sad when the taxi arrives, I could stand there in his warm embrace for the whole night.
I feel really nervous for the kids as Paul and I pull up two cars away from my home, they have all requested to meet Paul, a joint decision was how Harry had put it, I really do feel bad for Harry, but as much as I keep trying to put the brakes on I am finding it really difficult to keep my feet on the ground. As life starts galloping ahead of me. I think it's because I have been so accepting, never ever thinking this could happen, that I could meet someone and it feel so right, that he would be prepared to take on my load, and I had told Paul about that load, the baggage I would be bringing to this new relationship, not only would he be taking on me, but it would be three kids and an ex husband. He gets it, accepts it and is still so willing. I keep on pinching myself, can't believe how high my "high" feels. So this is it stage two of our adventure, the second part to my new journey. The kids, have seen how happy I am becoming, how I'm all smiles even when the house is full of stale awful words, although I have to say, I think Harry is realising that he is loosing the control he has of me, he gets that I don't have to answer to him anymore, that there really isn't an "us" and that all the times over the last seven years when he would demand I do something because I wasn't being a wife if I didn't, then me telling him I wasn't his wife, he picked and chose when he called me his wife and when he called me a a whole selection of words including whore, tart, and a bitch. I was tired of reminding him we were through and only living together. It has took until now. I think he actually realises it now. I keep shaking myself from feeling sorry for him, I know it's not my fault and I have to remind myself of all the chances I gave him, of the times I begged him to turn it round. Anyway this was going to all work out okay, I was going to sort it so we could all be happy not just me. Paul looks nervous, a look I've never seen before on his usually chilled looking face,
"It'll be fine love,"
I say as I get out of the car. I head towards my home. The kids already have their coats on and are waiting, the result of a double checking text I'd sent as we had left my mums.
"You all sure about this? There's no rush guys,"
I give them another chance to back out.
"Yes,"
they respond almost in a tune.
"Mum we really want to meet Paul, he is making you so happy,"
Alices word hang in the air as her dads head pops around the doorway. I blush and feel bad,
"Have fun,"
the short sentence sounds shaky as his eyes meet mine, I get a knot. I pull the door behind me and the kids seem happy as they walk up the path joining me on a new adventure. I think about their reaction as I sat down and told them about my new/old friend. Both the girls smiled as they put two and two together and equalled the reason behind my joy, realising why, even when everything was going off like it usually does at home, I don't react and keep it all calm. It was Noah's reaction that had made me chuckle during this very careful conversation,
"Ohh, so he's your boyfriend?"
They all started singing
"Mums got a boyfriend, mums got a boyfriend."
I quietened them down, Harry was still feeling raw and I didn't want to cause him anymore pain, but with social groups and the close nit community we live in, there was no way I was going to hide my relationship from them, and I really didn't want to sneak around and be sly, yes I wouldn't be out walking hand in hand and smooching Paul while we went about outside but I'd seen it before, one person sees something and it just escalates, I've always been honest, that was the sentence I'd said to Harry the week before when I was telling him that I didn't want to keep the kids from knowing, I'd respected Harry when he had asked that I wait six months before I introduce the kids to my new man. Although I had said I thought six months was a bit over cautious, but I had agreed. Then later on Harry realised that length of time wasn't realistic, knocking four months off his initial suggestion. But from the moment they heard about their mums boyfriend the kids wanted to meet Paul, I'd explained that Harry and I had decided it was in their best interest to wait for a couple of months for the meet, the kids complained, but understood the choice we had made. The change of plan came after Paul, his mum and his daughter, had come to watch the show we have been performing this week.
I was so happy when, after telling Pauls mum about the upcoming show a couple of weeks ago, she had asked could she come and watch.
Given that Harry, in the past eleven years, and us averaging three shows a year, hadn't watched enough performances to exceed one hand. There would only ever be my mum and our Cora sitting among the hundreds in the audience, to cheer and support my babies, and it guts me year after year, but here was Pauls mum asking to come along, Paul had already requested I put him a ticket away and he was of course bringing his daughter too. My answer had been yes with a huge smile and I eagerly text Susie and asked to have the three tickets put away in my name. I couldn't wait to tell the kids that they would have extra cheers and applause whilst they performed. Harry didn't take the news well, he let me know by slamming everything he touched whilst making himself a cuppa, then lastly the door to his room. I explained how nice it would be for the kids, and he had nothing to worry about, when you stood on stage if you really looked out into the audience, at best you only got to see the first two rows due to the brightness of the stage lights. It wasn't like they were meeting Paul and his family, it was a nice thing, but Harry was furious, threatening on a daily basis to pull the kids out of the show if I allowed 'him and his family' to be a part of the audience. As usual with Harry, his initial threats weren't always followed through, his immediate reaction to anything, is 'no'. But if you waited a short while, and allowed processing time, the first response often changed. Not always, but maybe eighty percent of the time. So I didn't cancel the tickets, I wanted to wait.
It was horrible whenever Paul mentioned about watching the show, I would change the subject, rather than explain the situation. We weren't in the place yet for me to be completely honest with how controlling Harry had been and continued to be. It wasn't until I got home, late on, on the evening of our dress rehearsal, Harry said,
"You should let Paul and his family watch the show, it'll be nice for the kids to have some support,"
I responded with a
"Thanks,"
as I got tiredly onto the couch and fell asleep. The following evening, I stayed at the end of the show having a drink in the bar with my friends and more threats began, Harry was upset that the kids, after a show, and just the same as me, couldn't settle straight away, before I'd closed the door to our car, when Harry had come to pick them up for home, I had reminded Harry to let them have a drink and a snack and let them just read in bed whilst they come down from the highs of the audiences cheers. Seems like that reminder had got lost in transit, slipped his mind as he'd drove home, his anger came with a phone call, him telling me he was bringing the kids back to me if I didn't leave right now and make my way home, I explained I couldn't, I was getting a lift but that everyone was chilling after the show, I told him to stay calm and reminded him about letting them wind down, but he'd past that, shouted and punished as usual, Emily was crying because he'd told her she had to miss out on the rest of the show. Half of her probably wondered, like I did with his endless threats, if he would even carry it out, and the other part, the part she was listening to, was the part were she was convinced he would follow through and ban her, meaning she would miss out, let her dance partner down. All of which was making her cry harder. I told Harry to tell Emily to calm down and if she did, she would be allowed to go, both he and I knew it was a threat he couldn't carry out. He came off the phone calling me the insult he saves for these occasions, "The Underminer" and telling me I was sabotaging his parenting. I came off with crossed fingers that it would calm down, Alice would usually text me if it was getting too much. Then, as I am only just shutting the door to where I had been having the private conversation, I received a text, it was off Harry not Alice, Emily was still shouting, Harry was fed up of the backlash that comes from the kids being in a show. I sigh, there's no point in me going over the same conversation, the one were I explain to Harry, his approach is why he ends up with the kids screaming and if he was calm and talked instead of shouting and threatening, the results would be far better, no back lash, just kids being kids and coming down from the rush that comes from being on stage. I sit back in my place at the table full of my friends and laughter, my phone vibrates again, the knot tightens,
"Emily is settled and in bed now, just tucked her in "
I wake up two days after with a mixture of emotions, I always hate last night performances, ending, knowing we'll never do the same show again. But it's been years since I had after show blues and never the morning before the last show, I think it could be because everything's changing, I think ahead, I hope that maybe the next show I help to put on, will be hopefully less stressful, I'll feel different, I'll feel freer, I can't put my finger on it, but there's something going on. The day goes by quick and it's not long until we are backstage, waiting to go on. I get a text that shocks me at first, Harry, after the show he thinks the kids should meet Paul and his family. I feel bad, I feel like I've backed Harry into a corner, I text him back saying no, I would wait and respect his wishes, he respond by telling me the kids really want to meet them and Harry doesn't want to hold them back; the kids are eager, I tell Harry thanks and I will see how it goes. I decide that it's too big a thing to have the kids meet Paul and his family while they are in such a busy atmosphere, I want it to be a calm and controlled one, a place where they knew it was okay if they changed their mind. Besides there was too much going on, I'm backstage and in charge of group 2's dressing room! Group 2 being our biggest group and having to make sure everyone was ready for stage in the right costume and on time was a huge responsibility, with their excited noise and me trying to keep them quiet and calm by playing some games. It was good that I was so busy, it kept my mind from realising I was nervous enough about performing myself in front of my new family. I didn't need to worry. I cant help but smile a really cheesy grin as me and my two friends, the principle and other teacher at our voluntary stage school, Simon and Laura bring our voices together to sing a couple of verses with our kids from Buzz. Harry has really knocked my confidence in one of the things I love to do, singing. He had, when we first started going out, come and watched a couple of shows, always on the last night, after giving in to me asking him to come and watch, begging him for some support, which would stop every man and his dog asking me when it was that my other half was going to come and watch me in the show I was performing in. After the show when we were back home, I am excited to know if he had enjoyed it, if he had thought it had gone okay? Only to be met with a derogative answer, him telling me my voice over powered everyone, that parts were completely out of tune and the song didn't suit me. Then there was always the insult that hurt the most, he would tell me I had looked bad in whatever it had been that I was wearing, it was seethrough, it was wrong for stage, anything negative he could add. I always came away hurt, feeling knocked, firstly wishing he would have come on the opening night so he could give me the criticism when I could change my performance, instead of at the end, when I had done the three performances and could only look back feeling ashamed, then wishing I hadn't asked him to come. I eventually couldn't cope anymore with feeling so low about myself during my stage part, I would worry the whole time I was on stage instead of enjoying it, so I stopped wanting to tread the boards, gave up, until this show I hadn't felt so happy to be on stage since I was sixteen, in the show I was in when I first met Harry. The rest of our last night goes well, I am really buzzing as I take a bow. Paul, his mum and His daughter had really enjoyed the show, my kids were high with the aftershow feeling, but they were tired and needed their sleep. I was relieved when Harry text to say he was parked up outside. The meeting was not going to be tonight. The next day, the kids continued their plight to meet my new love. Harry continued to text for most of the morning, reassuring me it was definitely what the kids wanted. So as the kids let me open the door to Pauls car, they wait until I get in for the official introductions, my aim for today is to just take it slow and go with the flow, all three kids giggle as I tell my boyfriend who is who. I ask them where would they like to go to eat, they all confirm the place that has already been suggested. The kids are chatty as we reach the family pub. It's one of the only places that Harry will come out to eat with us and I feel strained as the children choose to sit on our usual table, thinking at first that it maybe best not to sit in the booth where we have mostly sat when we came into this place. But I am eager to keep things nice for the kids and they are comfy here. With autism its all about keeping things the same and familiar, trying not to change too much, baby-steps. Its about finding the right balance, something which I learnt with Emily, after years of her not sleeping. It wasn't that she was awful from the start, quite the opposite, her being my second baby I was determined from the start to try for a better routine than I had got with Alice, my experience told me I needed to have my new baby sleep in her crib and not my arms like her sister had done. From the day she was born, Emily was wonderful, she settled so easy, she took her feeds well, and would sleep six hours through the night, in her cot. She was great, she was like that until she was four months old, until we moved house, I hadn't realised it then but it was the change, the new house, new surroundings, different ceilings as she lay in her cot, only twelve weeks old, but aware enough with her autism and needing the same, familiar surroundings, Emily wouldn't go into her cot anymore. So when she was four and in her big girls bed and having to have a dose of melatonin, a natural chemical that we release when we are tired, but that autistic children's mind overrides, Emily had a routine to help her stay in her bed, something that had started with me kissing her and her teddy good night. It then went to a good night kiss for Emily, teddy and big teddy. It quickly progressed to fifteen kisses a night, me having to say goodnight to every stuffed ted, dolly and even her plastic elephant she kept on her bed. It was the only way I could get her to settle, and even then she didn't always sleep. It had become her routine, the only way I could get her to stay in bed, to change it, would really distress her, sending her screaming and repeating the words
"kiss"
and
"night"
over and over, it was a couple of months before I managed to make the smallest of change. When, for the last of the fifteen, instead of kissing the teddy and saying goodnight to him, I just patted him, Emily told me no, I reassured her it was okay, I'd patted him goodnight instead of kissing him, Emily got it and she was okay. I did that for a week before I did the same to not only number fifteen, but also to fourteen. Emily was okay, she got it, it took a while but I got it down to two kisses and only a few pats, but I'd learnt my lesson, so for the kids now, I keep things familiar but not too rigid and it helps them. It's the same for all of my kids; their need to keep things the same, but with baby-steps and reassurance they were okay, that's what I had to focus on, they would be okay. It's only Alice who is slightly quieter than usual as we are all looking at the menu deciding what to eat, the kids are excited as I allow them to ask for things off the menu without the pressure of their fathers upset for the lack of "normality" that would be on their plate. While Paul goes to order I check they are all okay. The kids reassure me, tell me he seems really nice and friendly, saying he's not how they thought he would be, chilled -not like their dad. Once the food is served, the kids start to eat in an atmosphere that's completely new for them, yet with the surroundings, so recognisable. This table would usually be full of phrases and threats like
"Pack it in"
and
"Do you have to?"
and
"We won't be coming back here again."
But nothing like that was said, the kids weren't on their best behaviour or anything like that, they were their usual selves, but without the constant worry it was just a fun, calm environment. It wasn't long before Alice relaxed and she joined in the comical conversation, then, we carried on the alphabet game that I'd started while we were waiting for our food. Always having to have a game to play, something to occupy them, keeping them from getting into trouble with their dad. The familiar lady who served us must have wondered what was going on with this usually quiet family, minus one member, with a new man in their company, if she thought it she didn't say anything as she handed us our pudding. It was decided as we left the table that we would go to a sweet shop that my sister Cora has been raving about. The kids were more relaxed than I'd ever seen them, as they chatted to Paul about things they liked whilst on our way to the shop. We only had a few autistic parts as the girls getting a bit carried away and laughing at Noah for something he said. With their autism and other traits it's hard to bring them down once they hit a hype and with Noah feeling like he was being mocked, he was getting a bit frustrated but with some calm words and no threats the girls joined in with my subject change, as did their brother as I guided the topic to gaming and what sort of games their mums new friend likes to play. The kids were also really good in the shop, another situation that's difficult with the special needs my kids have, choice being the main problem, it was like sensory overload with sweets stacked high on every wall. It was nice when the kids suggested that Paul should get some things for his daughter too. As the kids walk back up the path after thanking Paul for taking them out, I remind them to not go in to their dad with words that could upset him or make him feel bad after they had had a lovely afternoon out, while he was home alone. I handed Harry the packet of sweets I'd bought for him from the magical shop. He seemed sad, but became happier as the kids went in describing the amazing goodies that they had just witnessed. I settled them and go back out to my Paul. He had a huge smile on his face as he tells me how much he likes them all. It was later, when we were sitting in the little pub that we'd begun to call "our pub" that Paul told me, Noah had said that it was nice because nobody laughed at his jokes, yet Paul had. Noah's words were true, being the youngest, all the regular jokes you first start to tell, the corny ones like the knock, knock, and it's Dr. Who, the girls were used to, with autism, it's hard to pretend so they'd just respond with a groan and a
"We've already heard it,"
but Paul had genuinely enjoyed chatting with him, confirmed by Noah saying to Paul nobody ever gets him, and he felt like Paul had today, my heart melted. The next week Paul had holidays from work and we really used the quality time well, I feel amazingly happy, we walk hand in hand, I had a permanent giddy feeling inside and it made me squeeze Pauls hand hard,
"You alright?"
he asks with his smiling eyes.
"Couldn't be better,"
I grin. It was really hard at night when I would have to get dropped off, I'd have to go and sleep in the house I hated, the one where it was clogged up with thick anger smoke. Harry had been less nasty to me over these past weeks, but everything was like walking on eggshells, he had said he was okay, asked, begged that we remained friends. I never knew quite if I was coming or going on a day to day basis before, I felt like I was walking through a maze now, checking the route I would chooses, hoping it was right, that this was the one that would lead to happiness for us all, but with dead ends at the bottom of most of the paths.
Taking it slow when I was really out of my depth, everything conflicting, but with Harry; I've been careful, knowing that my kids still have to live there, and that what by me moving on, it could tip him over the edge, I am constantly reassuring him. It's going to be okay, we will get on better now, as friends, he has to accept its over, something which is clear he hadn't done in all these years. The kids, out of us all seem to be doing the best at handling the change, happy to see me happy. We arranged to take them, my kids and Paul's daughter on the train to the museum for the day. Pauls car wouldn't hold us all and the kids had really wanted to meet her. After the initial shyness, they all got along straight away, chatting with each other while the train took us to our destination. It was on these days out, the days away from their dad, that the kids had started to relax and they were so much easier to be around. Less friction, getting along. I'm not sure if it's just tat they are shy, but they seem like different kids. In the museum, it is all about compromise, making sure everyone gets to see the exhibition they most want to. I have packed us all lunch and it's lovely to sit among other families, in the picnic area, without feeling edgy, worrying it is going to end up in tears, hoping that the kids will be on their best behaviour, not complaining about their food or being too loud. The kids enjoy this newfound chilled mood as well, they joke around as everyone gets to know each other a bit better. I can't believe how well everyone is getting along, my kids are actually laughing together, it wasn't ever like this when we were out, usually we would be on pins, and I would have to keep reminding them about their behaviour for the fear of being taken home. The kids are getting on well with Paul, and chanted kissing rhymes at us when Paul affectionately kissed the top of my head. He apologises right after, worried the public show if affection could upset not only me or the kids, I tell him not to worry, a little affection will be fine for them to see. It was the next morning I knew I'd judged it wrong, in bed I was awoke to my phone vibrating, it was Harry. I answered in the horizontal position, thinking he would probably by phoning to complain how he'd been left to sort out Monday morning, that one of the kids were crying and he was upset that I wasn't there to deal with it, I knew I would stay calm and talk him through it. I am so wrong.
"I can't believe I trusted you,"
I sit bolt up with his first words,
"Huh?"
Is all I can manage,
"You said you wouldn't rub my nose in it, yet the kids are telling me how cute you two are together and that you kissed in front of them,"
"Oh,"
I realise, he rants on for about five minutes saying I am unforgivable and I'm to blame for everything. Harry is not in a listening place yet, he is in a rage and my kids are there with him. I sit up and I start apologising, begging for his forgiveness, I am wrong, its me, I am inconsiderate. By the end of the rant I manage to get him to accept my apology, I promise not to show any signs of affection, including holding hands and I have Harry confirm that the kids are all okay. I'm exhausted, feeling drained I lye my head back down on the pillow, as Paul asks if I'm okay. I forgot he was there, in the blind panic of making sure I had calmed Harry down so he wouldn't take out my wrong doings on my children, I had spoke to Harry in a way Paul hasn't heard before, with the pleading and worry in my voice. I had some explaining to do, as I'd let my boyfriend into the doorway of my crazy life and Harry. Again Paul gets it, he's not only become more understanding as I explain some of how it has been living with that man, Paul was beginning to understand the complexity of my situation, why I could have never just walked away. With that knowledge Paul is still in this, with the promise of calm in his lovely enfolding arms.
It is just over two hours later that my phone goes off, my stomach flips with the sound of Harry's own personalised beep, the one, the only contact in my list with an exclusive ringtone, that beep goes off and it means answer quick if its about the kids, ignore if its a rant. The kids are in school, I am not in any rush to answer it, I am shocked when I do, it simply reads
"Let's meet Paul then "
Paul was next to talk,
"Something bad?"
I hand him my phone, saying the words
"Join me in wonderland,"
he cant believe it, no matter how I explain what it has been like with Harry. The text before that one had called me "Immature" and "Unreasonable" because I'd allowed Paul to kiss me on the top of my head, and then a three sixty, a complete turn around in less than a hundred and twenty minutes, I honestly don't know if I am coming or going at any given moment in time. Pauls next sentence made me smile,
"I'm joining you on this roller-coaster."
We walk through the front door and I introduce my boyfriend to my husband, normal for the life I have lived, I am shaking, I can't believe how nervous I am as they shake each others hand. It's the only way this is going to work, I tell myself over and over. I follow Harry into the kitchen to make a cuppa while Paul sits uncomfortably on the couch I call my bed.
"Checking I don't put poison in Pauls?"
Harry jokes. I don't answer but I really am. All seated in the front room, it starts off awkward but slowly gets easier, Harrys making a real effort and I am thankful. I steer the conversation away from any bumps and although its not what I ever imagined I'd be doing today, I have to just go with it. I feel bad seeing Harrys nervous grin as he is making such an effort, it looks like it is killing him, but as Harry had said in his next text, if Harry and I are going to continue to work together in our businesses, this was the next logical step. Paul and I drive away from my home,
"He's a really nice guy Lou "
I feel relief with the text, this is going to be okay, taking it slow, letting everyone find their feet. My feet are tingly and fidgety, trying hard to stay on the ground. Its no shock when I receive a text off Harry asking me to get in touch with a lady who we both knew through the school, in 2007 when Harry and I first split up, Harry had gone on a couple of dates with her, but it didn't work out. I tell him it should be him getting in touch with her, it would be weird coming from me, he thought it would be okay if I were to mention it to her, find out if she was interested, Harry eventually stops asking when I text the lady's contact details to him and tell him he can get in touch himself. Days later when I ask how its going he responds by telling me he is focusing on his career, he's going to put his "all" into being successful.
Every second I spend with Paul is making it harder to go back into the house, the place were I am constantly on edge trying hard to keep things calm in order to not set Harry off into a rage. Something which is heightening, as Harry is trying to keep a lid on his feelings, his frustrations grow, everything's setting him off. I am on a high to a low with the tick of the clock.
One night after I switch off the light and snuggled under my covers, my phone vibrates, too early for it to be my boyfriend on his break, it's my husband instead. I feel the tear on my cheek before I register that I am crying, I want to howl, Harrys text has throws me into the biggest panic attack in years. His text tells me he is a fool to give up on me and he is going to fight, from now on he's putting all of his efforts into getting me back. I can't breath by the time I have finished texting back. I tell Harry I haven't been "his" in years, and that now I feel really uncomfortable, living in the same house, but with him being like that. Harrys response was that of determination, there's no way I am changing his mind. I don't know what to do, I can't turn to Paul, it's hard enough he has to drop me home before he goes to work, with Paul knowing some of how Harry treated me. But how will he feel thinking he was giving me a lift back to a place where there was a persistent, adamant, man, making me feel sick with his pledge to "get me back." For the next week I am in so much turmoil, my sister Tammy, had a baby; my little niece, at the end of January. My nephew was only one and understanding how much of a struggle it is having two babies, with not much support, I start sleeping over a couple of times a week to take over the night time feeds for her. It's a win, win situation because it get me out of the house for the night. I stay over the night before Tammy goes to register the baby, its after she shuts the door behind her everything hits me, I have thinking time, the whirlwind that had started from meeting Paul, from the taste of nice, I was having from my afternoons spent with him, going from feeling so happy and cared for to walking back through the door, into a place where I feel guilt as I see my kids, who I miss so much when I'm out, to the mean words from their dad, then as he reminds himself his mission, the creepy guy as he pretends to be kind. I was trying to just go with the flow but something has to give. I tidy up my bags, putting them in the hall ready for later when I will be back again, spending quality time with my newest family member. I am not sure where I am headed but I hope the fresh air will help with my light head and sick feeling. I decide to walk to the end of my sisters long road, maybe catch a bus to my house or as close as I could get, but as I get to the bus stop it turns out there wasn't a bus that went that my way. I decide to continue walking, I try to not let the panic completely take over my thoughts.
I feel worse by thinking about what had happened after guides a few months ago, both Emily and I had gone straight from school to youth club then to Brownies followed by Guides. I'd been helping out in the kids school, something which I enjoy doing, I always say teaching is my calling before I had kids, it's why I love running my own Brownies pack and teaching drama in our stage school. So Emily had eaten toast and stuff from the tuck shop, but come nine o'clock my growing girl was hungry. I text Harry and asked him to call the pizza shop before he leaves to pick us up, Guides is really busy and I won't get a chance. Harry is upset as we come out five minutes late, it's because the Guides have been noisy and so "Cap" waited for quiet before we do our finishing song. Harry is worse when I ask if we are collecting the pizza,
"No she's not having pizza, you should have fed her instead of running all these stupid clubs, you don't even get paid,"
the last part was a regular argument for him to start on a Wednesday. Emily promptly got upset, she'd been looking forward to her pizza. Harry became even more determined that she wasn't having her favourite tea. He headed for home ranting at me, for not being more organised, and it was pointless me arguing back. We are almost at our turning when Harry changes his mind. He starts driving dangerously as he is still ranting, I tell him to slow down, but he doesn't, he gets even more wound up its only when I tell him to let me out or I will get out myself that he realises I am serious. Then he gets really mad, he stops the car just over one and a half miles from home and he tells me to get out. The kids start protesting, but I know it's the only was to calm him down; I have to diffuse the situation.
"It's okay I'll get a lift, dads taking you for pizza now,"
I reassure them in the strongest voice I have and I step out of the car. He pulls away and I wipe a tear. I assess my situation, it's pitch black the street lighting is awful here, the only pavement is across the road and then a walk past the cemetery and some fields. I take a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other. I don't admit to myself as to how scared I am, there is no way I am asking anyone for a lift, how the hell would I explain it? Then my shoulder bag snaps, so there I am in the dark, it's freezing and I'm clutching at my broken bag, praying that nobody who I know drives past. I make it home in 30 minutes, the kids have only just gotten in and are busy sorting out their food, I reassure them that I got a lift, they are happy and enjoying the food that has caused so much trouble. Later when Harry asks if my boyfriend came and rescued me, by this comment I know exactly which "boyfriend" he is referring to, I blurt out that I walked home myself, he doesn't believe me and I leave it at that.
I have the same scared feeling as I am walking today, not that the circumstances are the same but I feel really out of it, I can't think straight and I have no idea where I am going. I just want to be at home. I text Harry to see if he is out and about, asking for a lift.
"You need to sort these things out for yourself now"
his response. I know Paul is in bed and I feel too silly to look for help from anyone else. I find myself at a pub, I hope that having a drink might help me to focus better. It's not long before Paul texts to say he's up, I text him to explain my panic attack, I can't call him for the worry that I would break down right there in the pub. He says he will come straight away. I hold back my tears as I think of happy thoughts. Temporarily they appear in my eyes as he walks through the door, my hero, his concerned face as he sits opposite me so as not to show too much public affection, which, I am not quite ready for yet. I try to sort out my thoughts as we talk through my panic attack, me being the new goal on Harry's agenda, the tears build up as we come to the conclusion that maybe me living in that house isn't what's best anymore. Paul realises being in a pub that isn't my local but still close to home, means I am holding back, he offers to drive us to a place he knows that will give me the privacy to talk freely. Again his caring thoughts for me have me welling up, coupled with the relief of being in his car away from everyone, I let my tears flow. It's nice to feel so comfy to do so. I am all calm and drained of tears by the time we reach our destination. Paul and I chat about all the choices we have in front of us and together we make a huge decision, as of now, we are officially looking for a home to share together. I feel a great relief, I know it's early in our relationship, but there are huge things I have learnt from living with a man like Harry for sixteen years, I know what I don't want for a relationship, and Paul has ticked all of those boxes, plus I can honestly say, I have never felt so safe as I do when I am with Paul. I let Harry in on our new plans, he starts off being happy for us, then he sees a threat, what would happen with our belongings? The thousands of pounds we have spent together on our home. I reassure Harry, my plan is to keep things calm for the kids so keeping as much the same as I can is my goal. He isn't sure at first but as I show him my small list of what I think is acceptable, the second hand sofas from the dining room, the smaller of our flat screen televisions, and my clothes. That is it, all I need, everything else Paul and I will have to get ourselves. The house hunting begins.
YOU ARE READING
Loosing Control
Non-FictionA year in the life of a lady trying to escape the domestic abuse she and her children had suffered for 16 years.
