BooksBarbecue
Back What I Did Save as PDF
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

When it was clear there was going to be no change soon, then my plan A moved to my plan B – therapy for me, to help me cope with him. And after he hurt me so badly over the broken Peter Rabbit, before Nick finally calmed his own anger enough to intervene, I thought that one day he might kill me, so I packed my go-bag. It was for an emergency if I needed to get away from him. I never thought I would choose to leave the son I loved so much, but I could see a situation in which I might need to. But I also couldn’t desert Nick – not when we’d been so united.

Then he’d killed the dog on the day I’d received the school letter. I knew then just how dangerous it was getting, but I didn’t know how to keep my son with me and keep us safe as a family.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, there was what happened two days after that.

Then it was that I had no choice but to use my go-bag, just not in the way I had envisaged because I’d had to take Jack with me.

I think of that now, how my son was then, and what he might be like now. But I can’t stare at this door, lost in the past, any longer. Instead, I have to accept – for now – that Jack will be with his dad this weekend.

Thirty-Five

thirty-five:

– before –

I took one last, reluctant look at the smart grey door to my son’s flat and headed home.

As I walked, I passed sycamore trees; their autumn leaves reminded me of a different walk home, in a different time some twenty years before, in a different town. I thought then of Issy and the crew. I thought of my son then, when he was small and how we had walked through that park in Brighton and had thrown his collected leaves into the air with delight. Although bittersweet, it was a rare, easy, uncomplicated memory.

Because his birth was so bad, Nick and I had never had another child, so when Jack stopped calling me Mum, it was as if I stopped being one. He alone had the power to make me Mum and he alone denied me the power of being one. With a mother then still in prison, I felt almost motherless and childless, too.

I felt like I’d lost part of my identity.

Even after he’d had his own baby, he wouldn’t acknowledge my rightful role and call me Granny. I remained just ‘Lisa’. Even when he wanted my childcare, it would be: ‘Here, Lisa –’ he’d say, passing me his baby when Jack was small – ‘look after Jack for me, will you?’ And then he’d walk out of the door and sometimes not come back for days.