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Back What I Did
Chapters (87)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Dedication
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty-One
  25. Twenty-Two
  26. Twenty-Three
  27. Twenty-Four
  28. Twenty-Five
  29. Twenty-Six
  30. Twenty-Seven
  31. Twenty-Eight
  32. Twenty-Nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty-One
  35. Thirty-Two
  36. Thirty-Three
  37. Thirty-Four
  38. Thirty-Five
  39. Thirty-Six
  40. Thirty-Seven
  41. Thirty-Eight
  42. Thirty-Nine
  43. Forty
  44. Forty-One
  45. Forty-Two
  46. Forty-Three
  47. Forty-Four
  48. Forty-Five
  49. Forty-Six
  50. Forty-Seven
  51. Forty-Eight
  52. Forty-Nine
  53. Fifty
  54. Fifty-One
  55. Fifty-Two
  56. Fifty-Three
  57. Fifty-Four
  58. Fifty-Five
  59. Fifty-Six
  60. Fifty-Seven
  61. Fifty-Eight
  62. Fifty-Nine
  63. Sixty
  64. Sixty-One
  65. Sixty-Two
  66. Sixty-Three
  67. Sixty-Four
  68. Sixty-Five
  69. Sixty-Six
  70. Sixty-Seven
  71. Sixty-Eight
  72. Sixty-Nine
  73. Seventy
  74. Seventy-One
  75. Seventy-Two
  76. Seventy-Three
  77. Seventy-Four
  78. Seventy-Five
  79. Seventy-Six
  80. Seventy-Seven
  81. Seventy-Eight
  82. Seventy-Nine
  83. Eighty
  84. Epilogue
  85. Acknowledgements
  86. Extract from To Keep You Safe
  87. About the Author

Anya suggests that people cope with domestic violence in different ways. For a long time I struggled to use that term, but in the end, she made me read the definition off my phone and then challenged me to say why it was different to what I had experienced.

I could not.

We talk about how I grew up with it and then how I suffered it as an adult. It feels like the two things are related. Anya doesn’t make suggestions; she just listens to me as I make my own. I know that I took painkillers as a way of escaping my mental suffering. It’s hard doing the thinking now, it’s hard to think about how my father’s violence shaped me and how, in turn, I shaped my son. Somewhere, an ancestor of mine threw a stone into a puddle and the ripples kept going, hitting into another until the ripples hit my father and then hit me and then my Jack.

I know it’s still not over: I know that little Jack suffers the considerable loss of his parents, but I’m doing well with him and he’s in counselling too and seems to be happy and thriving. When I get down about it, Anya reminds me that I’m doing the best I can for Jack’s future. It’s not what I’d choose for him, but I also know that lots of people compromise all the time, and I also know that kids thrive every day in the space between perfect and necessity.

I shut my eyes and turn my face towards the salty wind that blows off the sea. I think I’ve forgiven my father for his behaviour. It’s too new an emotion to know for sure, but I feel this forgiveness now, weigh it carefully, and it feels right. Forgiveness always is, I think.

Even better, if I forgive him, then I have to forgive myself because his behaviour and mine are bound so closely and inextricably, together. Besides, I have to have some peace, not just to minimise the ripples hitting Jack, but because I need to feel better about me. Is that selfish? Anya champions the idea that it’s not. She says living is more than just survival.

Grateful, I sip my coffee: I don’t think I ever got over missing having a decent coffee when living at our little cottage on the hill. Then again, so much of living in isolation wasn’t for me. But it served a purpose, I think, as I glance at the marks on my wrists.