do it for both of us. I never minded doing things for Terry because he wasalways kind to me when he had a chance. We were in thistogether.
Dad would hide the bottles we brought home underthe settee, delighted yet again at the idea of getting somethingfor nothing, bringing them out when his friendsarrived so they could spend the nights drinking and playingcards. The fact that they had come free added to thepleasure he took in them. His aversion to paying for anythingmeant that he didn’t even like buying toilet paper,preferring to go into public toilets in little villages andnicking the giant rolls they provided. He would happilyboast to everyone who would listen that he hadn’t boughttoilet paper for years, as if he believed that anyone whodid so was a fool. Although he did buy the Jaguar at onestage, most of the time he didn’t have a car and he wouldget friends to drive him around. He loved to go outpoaching, shooting rabbits or pheasants or whatever,because it meant free food and at the same time it fed hisillusion that he was above the normal petty rules thateveryone else lived by. He liked guns too, owning littlerifles that he would fire out the kitchen window at passingbirds. He often hit them because he was a good shotand he taught me how to do it too. I loved it when hetaught me how to do relatively normal things, like a realparent should, rather than teaching me how to steal andcheat and eventually sell myself on the streets.
He may have rejected society’s rules but he did havehis own code of morality. He would never pinch moneyout of someone’s purse, for instance; that would haveseemed dishonest to him, although he had always beenhappy to take every penny Mum earned on the streetsstraight out of her hands, seeing it as his as much as hers.
Sometimes when he had company in the evenings Dadwould send Terry and me upstairs to bed, but at others heliked us to stay up and be with the party till one or two inthe morning, especially me. He would force me to drinkwhisky, watered down with orange, even though the sourtaste made me gag to start with until my system grewused to it. Terry and I always preferred to be sent to bed sowe could get some sleep because we wanted to go toschool the following day, but there was no point arguingwith him once he’d made up his mind he wanted usdownstairs with him.
On other nights the exact opposite would happen andhe would want to be rid of us as early as possible. If he hadbanished us to bed for some reason then we weren’tallowed downstairs under any conditions at all and sometimesthat could happen as early as four in the afternoon.As the only toilet was downstairs out the back we nearlyalways needed to relieve ourselves at some stage duringthe evening. Since the idea of defying him was unthinkable,we just had to find a way to do it upstairs, but we never had the nerve to pee out the window like him.Terry was OK since he could stand up and pee into thewater tank in Dad’s bedroom – although I dread to thinkwhere that water ended up; I suppose we were probablydrinking it downstairs or washing in it. I couldn’t reachthe tank so I would have to pull back the carpet andrelieve myself on the floorboards underneath. In the generalfilth and stench of our bedrooms Dad never noticedwhat we were being forced to do.
We didn’t know what was going on downstairs oncewe were exiled to the bedroom, but we would hear somepretty funny noises and we knew he kept his private stashof pornographic magazines under the cushion of hischair. Since most of his friends were either alcoholics orprostitutes it isn’t hard to guess what was happening.
I really liked most of the prostitutes he had as friends,because they were nearly always nice to me and Dadwould behave better towards me when they were around.Maybe they could instinctively understand what lay instore for me because similar things probably happened tothem when they were young.
There was one black prostitute called Gail who
Dad would hide the bottles we brought home underthe settee, delighted yet again at the idea of getting somethingfor nothing, bringing them out when his friendsarrived so they could spend the nights drinking and playingcards. The fact that they had come free added to thepleasure he took in them. His aversion to paying for anythingmeant that he didn’t even like buying toilet paper,preferring to go into public toilets in little villages andnicking the giant rolls they provided. He would happilyboast to everyone who would listen that he hadn’t boughttoilet paper for years, as if he believed that anyone whodid so was a fool. Although he did buy the Jaguar at onestage, most of the time he didn’t have a car and he wouldget friends to drive him around. He loved to go outpoaching, shooting rabbits or pheasants or whatever,because it meant free food and at the same time it fed hisillusion that he was above the normal petty rules thateveryone else lived by. He liked guns too, owning littlerifles that he would fire out the kitchen window at passingbirds. He often hit them because he was a good shotand he taught me how to do it too. I loved it when hetaught me how to do relatively normal things, like a realparent should, rather than teaching me how to steal andcheat and eventually sell myself on the streets.
He may have rejected society’s rules but he did havehis own code of morality. He would never pinch moneyout of someone’s purse, for instance; that would haveseemed dishonest to him, although he had always beenhappy to take every penny Mum earned on the streetsstraight out of her hands, seeing it as his as much as hers.
Sometimes when he had company in the evenings Dadwould send Terry and me upstairs to bed, but at others heliked us to stay up and be with the party till one or two inthe morning, especially me. He would force me to drinkwhisky, watered down with orange, even though the sourtaste made me gag to start with until my system grewused to it. Terry and I always preferred to be sent to bed sowe could get some sleep because we wanted to go toschool the following day, but there was no point arguingwith him once he’d made up his mind he wanted usdownstairs with him.
On other nights the exact opposite would happen andhe would want to be rid of us as early as possible. If he hadbanished us to bed for some reason then we weren’tallowed downstairs under any conditions at all and sometimesthat could happen as early as four in the afternoon.As the only toilet was downstairs out the back we nearlyalways needed to relieve ourselves at some stage duringthe evening. Since the idea of defying him was unthinkable,we just had to find a way to do it upstairs, but we never had the nerve to pee out the window like him.Terry was OK since he could stand up and pee into thewater tank in Dad’s bedroom – although I dread to thinkwhere that water ended up; I suppose we were probablydrinking it downstairs or washing in it. I couldn’t reachthe tank so I would have to pull back the carpet andrelieve myself on the floorboards underneath. In the generalfilth and stench of our bedrooms Dad never noticedwhat we were being forced to do.
We didn’t know what was going on downstairs oncewe were exiled to the bedroom, but we would hear somepretty funny noises and we knew he kept his private stashof pornographic magazines under the cushion of hischair. Since most of his friends were either alcoholics orprostitutes it isn’t hard to guess what was happening.
I really liked most of the prostitutes he had as friends,because they were nearly always nice to me and Dadwould behave better towards me when they were around.Maybe they could instinctively understand what lay instore for me because similar things probably happened tothem when they were young.
There was one black prostitute called Gail who
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