Dirty Old Man (A True Story) (25 page)

I was buzzing. My whole body felt as though it had been given an injection of life. I felt like an eighteen year old, a whole year younger than Bernie had told people over two years ago. If only I could erase the last two and a half years of my life, but I couldn’t. I had to make changes starting from now.

I almost wished Bernie had been there to witness my emancipation.

     A green Rover crackled over the gravel as it pulled into the car park. It wasn’t Bernie’s Rover, it was my dad’s. The horn beeped once to let me know he was there.

I didn’t even close the door behind me as I left.

My parents didn’t get out of the car as I approached; they eyed me as though I was a stranger to them and barely recognized me.

I slumped into the back seat and exhaled a breath of relief.

I wouldn’t for a minute, allow myself to believe that they were any different or had changed their ways. All I knew was that they wouldn’t treat me in the manner Bernie had. They were a much safer option.

I hadn’t seen them for such a long time and it felt necessary to break the ice.

     “How come the badge is missing off the front of your car?” I asked my dad, as though I hadn’t been estranged from them for over two years.

     “It’s those kids next door to us, I’m convinced they’re going to steal it so I take it off at night and bring it in the house. They keep loitering out outside looking at the car. Because I rushed out, I forgot to put it back on.”

     “Oh.” I said, as we pulled away from the mobile home park. I could see nothing had changed much while I’
d been away; my dad was still paranoid as ever.

The familiarity calmed me inside, I was an adult now and nobody could control me anymore.

     The first thing I did when I moved back to Leicester was to get an appointment at the opticians. I was sick to death of not being able to see and I’d always been too scared to ask Bernie for money. Because I hadn’t been in full time education and was over sixteen at the time, I wasn’t entitled to a free eye test.

I still wouldn’t wear glasses;
my dad’s ‘sexetary’ comment had scarred me for life.

Instead, I bought some contact lenses and was able to take them away with me the same day.

I vividly remember the moment I put them in and walked out the opticians because I sat on the curb outside and cried.

     I heard that Bernie went mad after I escaped, apparently taking horse tranquillizers and verbally abusing anyone who knew him. Another story was that he’d become engaged to a prostitute but these were just rumours.

It was true however, that he left the country and was travelling around Africa and Norway.

     Years later my sister Cara told me that he’d been hand delivering birthday/anniversary cards to the house, but my parents would throw them away so I didn’t have to see them.

He has tried to contact me on numerous occasions during these past thirteen years, and once I even replied to him in a civil manner. Oh the grip and fear these people can
instil into their victims long after the emancipation.

Since my veil of nativity has lifted and I have children of my own, the last time he tried to establish contact, my message was quite clear.

I told him that he was a paedophile and was never to contact me again. Perhaps one day I shall get justice and he’ll be extradited back to the UK.  For now though, I’m happy to be safe.

     Moving back home didn’t work out, though I’d guessed it wouldn’t the day I escaped Bernie. It was merely a stop gap until I could make a life for myself.

     I bought my first house not long afterwards, and later I would be running my own business. My first son came along and changed me beyond description. It was the first time I’d experienced unconditional love, though it opened a few old wounds in relation to my own parents. How is it possible for a parent to not love their child unconditionally? A few years later would see my second arrival and my life would forever be changed.

     I still struggle to form bonds with females, perhaps one day this can be resolved. I have a couple of close friends that I know will always be there for me and; I don’t feel I need much more than that. Life has become about the preservation and protection of the ones I care about, and has proved a good role for me.

     I rarely have contact with my family now, with the exception of Cara who lives a stone’s throw away. I have tried on numerous occasions to build bridges with my family, though they have chosen to ignore my children, despite them being stood only inches away from them at a christening I recently attended. I refuse to allow them to inflict any feelings of rejection upon them, and I’m confident in my ability to keep my children safe and nurtured.             

     Whilst I cannot change the things that happened in my past, I can certainly use my experience to prevent it from happening to many more vulnerable children.

Despite leaving school with no qualifications whatsoever, I managed to obtain a diploma in social work, and have worked successfully with children who have been victims of abuse.

     I heard Beryl got a nose job, though she told everybody she’d had an accident that made her eyes bruise and nose requiring strapping up. I’ve seen photographs and believe she looks better for it. Not because I
believe cosmetic surgery was her answer, but because for once in her life; she smiles genuinely in her pictures.

     Beth met a man that behaved very much like my father, who would stay in bed every day. She had two beautiful children, and after introducing her to a friend of mine, she is now happily married and they have a lovely home together. Unfortunately, her new best friend is married to an ex of mine; so I didn’t get an invite to her hen party. I did get a wedding invite but declined because my children weren’t invited.

A similar situation happened with Beryl too, I didn’t get a hen night invitation, though saw the photo’s on
Facebook with my family laughing and joking together.

I’m certain they all have their own stories that have shaped them into the people they are today. I love my life now, and I truly wish them all the best of luck and happiness.

     Bernie’s friend ‘Brian’ sadly passed away in 2007, though before then; he had become my friend and new instructor since escaping Bernie. He despised Bernie when the revelations came to light after I left, and it was Brian who urged me to speak to my GP about counselling.

I attended Brian’s funeral in Southampton. After years of being called a hypochondriac, he suffered a massive heart attack in his sleep and didn’t wake up. He left behind a lovely partner and beautiful baby girl who I hope one day, will learn what a thoroughly decent man he was. Me and Bernie would sometimes call at his ‘shared’ house before training on Friday’s, and he’d make us dinner. It was always beans on toast, with a sprig of parsley. That memory will forever be in my heart.

     My dad was diagnosed with cancer of the oesophagus in 2003, though he pulled through and made a full recovery. During this time we were on speaking terms, though after his recovery, he went back to his old tricks and we spoke not a single word. Then he crashed his car and broke his back. The fire crew said that it was a miracle he survived, and if there had been any travelling passengers; they would have been killed outright.

He pulled through again and we no longer speak again. I found myself going around in circles with him, and he never made any attempt to see his grandchildren. He did end up on his own.

     My mum remarried a lovely man who I have a lot of respect for. I broke down at her wedding and she promised things would be different, that she would email me and I could take my family to her house for dinner like the others did. Unfortunately, that email must have gotten itself lost in cyberspace.

I’m no longer as naïve as I used to be, and I no longer desire acceptance from the people who will never accept me.

Bernie gets no further mention in my book, he has ceased to exist to me now, and he’s no longer in my nightmares.

     I eventually tracked Celine down after losing her email address; here are a couple of genuine emails we exchanged. * Names and email addresses have been censored.

*****

Sent: Wednesday, February 21, 2007 10:46 PM
Subject: hey mr dj...
hi Celine!!
hey mr dj put a record on....
omg please don't ask me how i found your email address because it's taken me ages!!! lol
i hope you remember me, you were after all, a bridesmaid at my wedding in peterborough.
i hope you're ok, im contactable on this email address which i check everyday, i also have myspace if you have a profile on there
http://www.myspace.com/-------------
i hope to hear back from you soon, it's been too long my lovely
Moll
:) xxx

*****

Moll! Molly! So good to hear from our mr dj...... what kinda mischief
have you been getting up to? ;-) hehe
I've been thinking about you...couldn't do much about it though cus hotmail
trashed my account -I hadn't checked the mail regularly enough and they
deleted my contacts the B*** (bad people!)
Email is a bit tricky as we're in a caravan in the countryside (Caboolture,
Queensland, Australia) using solar energy so no telephone line! So will take
a while to reply to emails. Still working on my uni thesis - one year to
go!
So what have you been up to? Are you running the pub? You're looking sexy -
as usual!
Tell me your news. And I'll write more soon
Lots of love
Celine :-)

*****

Hey Mr DJ
 Moll

So sorry it's taken so long to write to
 you. Been living in a caravan and trying to get the power, telephone, internet etc sorted as well as complete this crazy thesis plus heaps more stressy things I won't bore u with. But still a whole year since I wrote to u last! I'll kung fu myself for a few minutes as penance! Do you still practise the kicks and punches by the way?

How is the studying going? Did you get a place closer to Leicester? How is little ----------? We've got a wireless modem in the caravan now so will be able to phone you after the 10th May when we have some download gigs...any time better for u? There's a 10 hour difference here. so in the uk 9am is 7pm in Oz...its a bit crazy!.

And I'm on skype now
 - could type to you too . our user name is

 
-------------------------------- 

and hotmail is
 --------------------- 

Lets catch up soon
 

Love

Celine :-)
 

*****

Outlook

2 attachments (total 1518.6 KB)

Hey Celine,
Been such a long time again and loads has happened.
I was looking through my old emails because I wanted to get in touch.
How the devil have you been? Hows uni stuff going?
I have 2 little lads now, ------ (8) ------- (3) both little tyrants :) (I've attached mugshots)