Chapters (87)
- Cover
- Praise
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgements
- Extract from To Keep You Safe
- About the Author
It was no coincidence that Irene started to have her grandson for me on the day the NCT always met up. I don’t think they missed him. They probably thought he was difficult because Nick was abusing me, but Nick never raised a hand to me. Looking back, my only regret is that I should’ve just told Issy the truth, that time in the café twenty years ago. It would’ve been a relief perhaps to share it with someone other than Nick.
Now, if my son had been little now, it would’ve been very different for me – for all of us. Now there’s the internet – I could’ve Googled to my heart’s content and perhaps used that to help me with the GP. But I doubt I would’ve had to – there’s labels now, diagnoses that everyone is much more familiar with. There’s proper processes for schools – it would’ve all been easier. I could’ve accessed help groups and chat rooms, like Mumsnet, to give me advice, support. There would’ve been prescriptions as a last resort. Twenty years ago, the world was a different place.
I did my best. I tried to create support. I once took him to the doctor and explained about his behaviour problems, but the doctor looked at me with a puzzled expression and offered to prescribe me antidepressants. I wanted to yell at the stupid, confused doctor: It’s not me! This is not because of me! I am like this because – and only because – of him!
I remember how, after I’d taken our son to the doctor, Nick tried again the following year. He took him to a different GP, but came back silent yet clearly angry. He didn’t tell me what that doctor had said, but neither of us ever tried taking him again.
After getting nowhere with the doctors, when I went back to work my plan A was always to earn money to access private counselling for my boy. Nick and I agreed on most things, including being both staunch supporters of the NHS. Obviously as a nurse and police officer, we believed in strong state provision; we were against private schools and private healthcare and Nick felt that by going down the private route, we were somehow traitors to our own kind. But I was desperate. With my own money, I secretly paid for therapy for Jack, but he only went a few times before refusing.