Tina's Diary:1997

Chapter One

Saturday January 4th 1997 – 2 p.m

I can manage to evade the smoke alarm if I hang halfway out of the window and blow away any telltale signs of my nicotine habit. But … knock me down with a feather, I haven’t even finished my cigarette this time before the police, a fire engine and an ambulance all screech up at once.

Fat Marsha, the most hated member of staff in my opinion, rushes out onto the forecourt two floors below and stares up at me.

“Don’t jump!”

Somebody rattles my door handle, but as usual I’ve barricaded myself in to avoid Disgusting Derek’s wandering hands. I smoke my fag with as much aplomb as I can muster, then stub it out on the window sill and relish the spotlight of attention that has suddenly been turned upon me.

“Yeah, I’m going to jump and you can’t stop me!”

Down on the ground two firemen have rigged up some kind of safety net and inflatable bed. Adie, the policeman I’ve come to know over the last few years, picks up a megaphone.

“Tina, don’t be silly… I can come up and talk to you. What d’you say?”

There hasn’t been this much excitement at the kids’ home since Warren Morris slashed his wrists in the dinner hall. It hasn’t even occurred to me to jump, but now that I see the soft landing ready and waiting for me, well…I’m all for it.

“Look out!”

I launch myself off the window sill and emit a blood-curdling scream for good effect as I sail through the air. I fall face-first into the netting and am momentarily winded, but soon recover any composure I might have lost on my descent. Adie is the first one to reach out a hand and help me.

“Off you get. I don’t suppose you’ll be doing that again in a hurry.”

“I don’t know…” I shrug and climb off the netting. “I might.”

Saturday January 4th 1997 – 3.30 p.m

Marsha and two heavies break another one of my barricades. Staff aren’t supposed to enter kids’ rooms, but Marsha barges through anyway. No explanation and no apology, she just goes ahead and plonks her fat arse on my bed. Irate beyond measure, I take a deep breath…

“I don’t want you to sit there!”

“Tina… why do you want to end your life?”

“Get off my fucking bed!”

I stand my ground and stare her out. She’s the one who has broken the rules now.

“That’s the rest of your incentive money gone for this week, Tina. You know we don’t like bad language at Sunrise.”

“Sunrise isn’t a home, it’s a prison. I don’t want you in my room… get out!”

Marsha sighs, heaves herself up off the bed and makes for the door. When she has gone I can still smell the nauseating stench of her perfume. I wrench the duvet, sheet and pillow from the bed, which now stink of her, and throw all three out of the window. Incandescent with rage and with a strength I never knew I had, I then chuck the mattress down the stairs, followed minutes later by the bedframe.

Chaos ensues. Marsha races back into my room. Disgusting Derek and Rancid Richard hold me down while I thrash and writhe until I am all raged out. But hey…don’t they realise? If Fat Marsha hadn’t sat her arse on my bed in the first place, or had even asked me for permission to sit there, then I wouldn’t have made such a fuss. Just because I’m only fourteen, well…nearly fifteen… that doesn’t mean I haven’t got any rights; it’s my right not to have Fat Marsha’s arse on my bed.

Saturday January 4th 1997 – 6.30 p.m

I feel calmer now, as I took time to cut my left arm earlier this afternoon. Warren has recently introduced me to the art of cutting. Blood seeps into a stack of tissues and takes all my troubles away. Afterwards I sleep for a while and make sure none of the staff can see my bare arm at dinnertime.

After a bit of persuading, Warren agrees that I can have his bed. Disgusting Derek and Rancid Richard bring Warren’s bed in while I wait outside in the corridor, and then they take mine to Warren’s room. I can sleep in my new bed tonight now that I know Marsha’s arse hasn’t sat on it. Well… at least that’s what Warren says anyway.

Saturday January 4th 1997 – 8.30 p.m

We’ve got a new maintenance man. I don’t know what has happened to Bob. Jeff is a distinct improvement on Bob though; he’s about twenty years younger, blond and good looking. Jeff asks me for permission to come into my room to put locks on the windows and I cannot agree any faster, even though I won’t be able to smoke in my room anymore. Jeff can sit on my bed any time. He’s got to go to every room in the home over the next couple of days.

Jeff works overtime and is happy and chatty, whereas Bob never wanted to work at all and always seemed rather miserable. We talk and laugh while Jeff restricts the window openings. When he finishes he suggests we go out one evening in his van to the bowling alley in town. I’m all for it. Jeff looks pleased and says he has to work overtime all weekend to finish the locks, but he will be able to pick me up tomorrow about 6pm.

I tell Lindy, my best mate, that Jeff has asked me out. Lindy is about year older than me, nearly 16, and says that the only reason Jeff has suggested going out in his van is so that he can get in the back of it with me and get into my knickers, because sex is all men ever want. I laugh but feel excited that Jeff might fancy me. When he’s gone I pick out a nice top that will cover the red scars on my arms.

Sunday January 5th 1997 – 7.30 a.m

Breakfast time. Kerry, one of the first aiders, reminds me to queue up at the medications counter for the nurse to give me my contraceptive pill. However, I’m rather contrary, because if I feel a bit depressed I prefer to not do as I’m told, and it makes me happier that staff cannot force me to take it. That’s okay because so far I haven’t wanted to have sex with anybody, as apart from the detestable Uncle Simon, those nights when Harry Halitosis stayed over and paid for Mum’s drugs so that she would let him get in my bed when I was only eight years old are still fresh in my mind. However, Jeff might be an exception.

I take my plate of scrambled eggs on toast over to a table. Roy sidles up and sits next to me. He’s a cheeky little soul, only ten years old, and happy in his own world. I ruffle Roy’s hair and we eat in silence while I fantasise about Jeff and I falling in love. If I told Lindy what I’d been thinking of she would tell me not to be such a twat.

Mum sometimes told me she loved me, but now I know it was only the drugs or the booze talking. I don’t know what she felt about Dad or what hold he had over her, but she complained about him constantly when he wasn’t there. When he did come to visit she would stop whatever she was doing and they would go upstairs; sometimes she was even in the middle of cooking my dinner when he turned up. He’d give me money for fish and chips instead, and I’d not see them again for hours. When older I became embarrassed by the noise that emanated from Mum’s bedroom, especially if any of my friends were in the house at the time. Sometimes Mum had bruises on her face and on her arms when she came downstairs. Dad would never stay the night though, no matter how Mum begged and pleaded. I’m angry with Mum for having given in to him every time, and I try not to think about her.

I usually hate Sundays, but now that I can see Jeff tonight I’ve got something to look forward to. None of the other girls have a boyfriend; they’ll be envious of me.

Roy tells me he loves me. I give him a cuddle and then take my plate over to the clearing trolley.

Sunday January 5th – 5 p.m

I can’t eat much dinner because I’m so excited. Later on I plaster my face with make-up, then put on my best clothes and make sure not to get them creased. I crack open my window as far as it will go, and look for Jeff’s van. He rolls up on time, and I run down to meet him. The staff sit and watch TV and have no idea who is in and who is out.

He grins at me, gives me a wave and opens the passenger door. My heart beats so fast I think it might jump out of my chest.

“Hi beautiful.” He leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek.”

Nobody has ever called me beautiful before. My dad calls me ‘pet’, ‘angel’, and ‘sweetheart’ when he’s not full of booze, but then he always says the same to every girl he meets anyway, and I dare say even to his various mistresses.

I get into the front seat of Jeff’s van. My skirt is a bit short and I try to pull it down a bit.

“Leave it. You’ve got great legs.”

“Are we going bowling then?” I smooth my skirt and enjoy the fact that Jeff finds my legs attractive.

“Yeah, but first let’s have a little ride around.”

I want to go bowling, not sit in his bloody van all night. I click my tongue and make the kind of ‘tut’ noise that could send Mum into one of her rages.

“Drive where? What for?”

“Just want to show you something first.”

I’m intrigued. I watch out of the window as Jeff drives out of Croydon a bit and then stops in a layby down a quiet country lane. For the first time I notice a wedding ring on his finger; my fantasy walk down the aisle whilst wearing a fluffy meringue dress comes down with a crash. He turns off the engine and leans in towards me. I can smell his aftershave.

“Give us a kiss and I’ll take the locks off your windows.”

The expression of desire on his face says it all. I think he’s shit-hot, but that wedding ring is bothering me.

“You’re married, aren’t you?”

“Separated. We split up six months ago.”

His hand starts to wander up my skirt. I hear Lindy’s voice in my head, but now I think it’s time to throw caution to the wind.

“So you’ll take my locks off if I let you get your rocks off?”

“Something like that.” He laughs and guides my hand to the bulge in his trousers. “Are you set? You know… the pill?”

“Yeah, all taken care of.”

My hormones are raging, and so are his. Within a short time the van rocks to the rhythm of our lust.

Sunday January 5th 1997 – 8 p.m

We still haven’t gone bowling. I discover Jeff has a mattress in the back of his van for emergency occasions such as these, and we have made rather good use of it for the last few hours. I can’t believe how much better sex is with Jeff than with Harry Halitosis. I look at my watch.

“You’d better take me back.” I kiss him and sit up. “There’s a nine o’clock curfew and I won’t get any pocket money tomorrow if I’m late.”

“Sure.” Jeff pulls on his pants and trousers. “We can do this again if you like.”

It’s nice to have a boyfriend at last. I nod.

“Okay, but one evening I would like to go bowling as well.”

“Next time.” Jeff climbs into the driver’s seat. “Get dressed, and I’ll pick you up in a couple of days. I’ll be round some time tomorrow to take your locks off. Just don’t let the staff see your windows or I’ll get the sack.”

Chapter Two

Monday January 6th 1997 – 9.30 a.m

Monday morning and it’s supposed to be a school day. I go to one of those ‘special’ schools for excluded children. However, none of the teachers there care whether I turn up or not, because without any pupils to teach they can smoke and drink all afternoon in the pub. Sometimes I do go, but this morning I decide to stroll around Croydon Town Centre and look in shop windows at all the things I can’t afford to buy.

I pass a butcher’s shop sporting an advert for a Saturday assistant in the front window. I’m tall like my dad and could easily pass for 16. The school isn’t too hot on uniforms, and as usual I have on a pair of faded jeans, a jumper and a body warmer, and carry an old rucksack on my back with my lunchbox in it. However, I’ve got the gift of the gab, again inherited from Dad, who could charm the birds from the trees and Mum away from cooking my dinner. On the spur of the moment I decide to take a detour into the shop and present myself as the Saturday girl they’ve waited for all their lives.

The boss is nice and friendly, and his name is Steve. I give him my best winning smile and tell him how I’ve been searching for a little job since I started college. Steve falls for it and offers me a three month trial. I agree, just so long as I can be paid in cash.

Steve introduces me to the others; there’s two older guys, Mark and Dave, who work with Steve and cut and serve the raw meats. There’s also Lesley, a girl not much older than me I think, who I’ll need to help over on the cooked meat counter. I’m also introduced to an apprentice butcher, Jayden Iannone, who winks at me and looks like he could be a bit of a handful.

I follow Steve into the office. I know he’ll want my contact details, and I have to think fast. I give him Dad’s address and Dad’s name as my next of kin. Steve regards the form with a puzzled expression.

“How come your dad has a different surname?”

This time I can tell the truth.

“Mum gave me the surname of the love of her life, Billy Fitzpatrick, but Billy is not my dad.”

Steve laughs.

“Sounds complicated.”

“I’m used to it.” I shrug. “Mum was always a bit crazy.”

“Was?”

“Yeah, she died when I was ten.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m not.” I wish Steve would mind his own business. “Can we change the subject please?”

“Of course. Would you like to start work this coming Saturday?”

“Sure.” The awkward moment goes, thank God. “I’m a quick learner by the way.”

“That’s what we like.”

Monday January 6th 1997 – 4 p.m

I turn up at the home just at the time I would have done if I’d walked the two miles from school instead of my usual routine of setting off most mornings in the opposite direction. I check my windows… yes, Jeff has taken the locks off and pulled the curtains. I sling my empty lunchbox in the kitchen then go along the downstairs corridor to Lindy’s room.

“Hi.” I fling myself on her bed. “What have you been up to today?”

“We’ve got a new girl next door to you, about your age. Her stupid name’s Lavinia, but she wants to be known as Vinnie.”

“I’m not surprised.” I snort with laughter. “What’s she like?”

“She’s great. She turns tricks down on the Belview Road. I went with her today and earned two hundred quid. Better than going to school.”

“Wow!” I sit up, open-mouthed. “I’ll come with you tomorrow.”

“You don’t want to start all that. You’re only fourteen.”

“I’ll do what I like, same as you.”

Lindy lights up a fag and goes over to the window. I notice with surprise how the window opens wide.

“How come you don’t have any locks?”

“Oh… Jeff took them off.” Lindy leans out as far as she can and blows a puff of smoke in an upward direction. “I have to keep my curtains pulled though, so the staff don’t find out. Shall we go on another stomp tonight? We can climb out the usual way now.”

Usually I’d be up for a midnight stomp and would have agreed straight away, but all of a sudden there’s one niggly doubt that circles around in my mind.

“Are you shagging Jeff?” I’m not one to beat about the bush, and Lindy knows it.

“Course I’m not.” Lindy stares at me over her shoulder. “What makes you think that? I’m not as daft as to start a relationship with a married man.”

“He’s not married… they’re separated.” I state with as firm a belief as I have hope.

“Grow up, girl. He’s got a wife, twin boys, and another kid on the way.”

I’m as angry as it’s possible to be. I punch Lindy’s wall with my fist. It leaves a mark and makes my knuckles bleed. It will be one hell of a midnight stomp tonight.