What Daddy Did (28 page)

I treated myself to a holiday to India to meet up with my niece Hannah. She'd gone there for a six-week trip and had asked me to join her. I hadn't been on holiday on my own in many years and, after all I'd been through, I decided to allow myself this time out. I thought that if I had some time away from Ian, I might come back refreshed, and this would give us a good starting point from which to move forward. My friend Saritha looked after Saoirse for me for the two weeks, and I had a wonderful time. We travelled from Delhi to Goa then to Mumbai, down to Rajasthan, up to Agra to see the Taj Mahal then back to Delhi where we spent the last few days. On my way home I was absolutely elated, and so excited about seeing my girls. I had even missed Ian. I was optimistic, refreshed and the happiest I had been for a long time.

My happiness was soon shattered. After spending time with everyone, giving them the presents I'd bought and telling them all about my trip, I opened my mail. In among all the usual post there was a letter. On opening it, I discovered a Valentine's card addressed to someone else but in Ian's writing. It was signed by him and there was a love note inside. I knew of this person – this woman – from his past, and I knew that he had sent it to her; she, in turn, had seen the sense to send it to me.

I was devastated. He vehemently denied it, immediately getting defensive and accusing people of trying to come between us. The only person who was coming between us was him. I couldn't speak to him. I was hurt and angry. I felt utterly betrayed yet again. Things were silent between us for days. He tried to reassure me but this was the straw that broke the camel's back. I just couldn't take any more. I knew I had to get out – I just didn't know how. I had to hatch a plan to get Ian out of my life.

I suggested to him that he have a holiday visiting his sister in the States. I offered to pay for the trip, saying that since I had been on a break maybe he too would like one. I even suggested that it might give us time to think. He took me up on my offer. I confided in Claire and told her that I needed to get away from him. She was overjoyed that I had finally made the decision.

That this was the right move was further confirmed when he blew a fuse one morning before his trip to America and flew into the most aggressive rage ever. I ran to tell Claire to keep out of the way as he was on the warpath. As he poured himself a huge measure of vodka, I stood by the phone threatening to call the police if he didn't calm down. He left – drunk, in his car. When we finally spoke that evening, once Saoirse was safely tucked up in bed, I was adamant with him that I wanted out. I don't think he believed me because he acted as if nothing had happened and nothing had been said. I just let it go because it was easier, and I knew that my plans to leave were still going to happen.

A few days later, I dropped him off at the airport for his trip, and no sooner was he away than I headed for Edinburgh with the girls. I quickly found a flat for us, and then went back down south. Within two weeks we had packed up all our belongings, said our goodbyes to the couple of friends we did have there, and departed for my home city to start our lives over again without fear and aggression threatening us every day.

The first few months after I returned were both good and bad. It was good because I was finally away from Ian and I felt free for the first time in ages. But I was also fearful that he would find us. He was constantly texting and phoning me until I changed my number. The stuff he said and alleged was just horrible – I don't think I'd realised how twisted he was until that moment.

I was lost, too, because it had been a long time since I'd made my own decisions. I was hurting very badly, although not in the same way that I did when Robert and I split. I was hurting because I had made the decision to be with this man who had nearly destroyed not only me but my children too. I had given him so much but all he seemed to want was to control us and destroy the safe family unit I had created. With the loving support of my family – my children, nieces, nephew, sisters and brothers-in-law – and my very good friends, I have managed to come through it all. Now, two years down the line, I can honestly say I have turned a corner. I know it wasn't long before Ian got himself another partner who now lives with him in the house we once shared.

I wake up alone. But feeling safe.

Over the time since I have been away from Ian, I have questioned how I could have allowed myself to get into such a destructive relationship. I can't change the fact that it happened. What I can take from it is an enormous lesson, and I can be grateful that I had the courage and wherewithal to get away from him and his ways before he did any more damage. I haven't bottled it up and allowed it to damage me more; I have been allowed to talk about it and see it all clearly.

It's not dark any more.

I LOVE TO TRAVEL
. It's always been a priority for me to see as many countries as I can and to introduce my children to different worlds because it's an education as well as an opportunity to rest and relax. We've never had much money but I've always had belongings that I would easily sell to give us the opportunity to go and see other parts of the world. My children laugh now at the fact that they would arrive home from school and ask, 'Where's the sofa?' and I would reply, 'I sold it – but we're going on holiday!' Off we'd go somewhere hot where we could soak in the ambience and culture. There was a time in Crete when we ran out of money towards the end of our holiday. I went down to the promenade and did drawings of people so that we could enjoy our last few days there in style.

As a result of this approach, we've seen parts of the world that some people only dream of. Some of these journeys have also been, for me, profoundly moving and almost spiritual times, and as an artist a wonderful opportunity to record the sights I've seen.

In 1995, the year of Nelson Mandela's inauguration, I took Paul and Claire off to South Africa. I had a friend in North Berwick who came from there, and having visited with her the previous spring, I felt strongly that I wanted to spend more time in that beautiful, diverse country, and that my children should come along too. To fund it, I held an exhibition at Belhaven Brewery, who sponsored me and sold enough pieces to give us our tickets and enough money to live on for months. We headed off, full of excitement.

We landed in Johannesburg and travelled by coach during the night to Cape Town. We stayed in the centre in Queen Victoria Straat, opposite the museum and the Botanic Gardens, through which you can reach the presidential home. The sights, sounds and colours of this amazing city were awe-inspiring, and we mixed with all races on our stay here.

After some months, Paul and Claire returned on their own to live with their father and go back to school, while I stayed on to complete some work that had been commissioned. I had never been separated from my children for longer than a couple of weeks, so it was very traumatic to see them off at the airport. I thought my heart was going to break, and I truly wondered how I could survive for the few months that I'd be without them. However, I'd never before had an opportunity to follow my own path, and I selfishly allowed myself this one time.

I moved out of Cape Town to a little place called Simon's Town. On nearby Boulders Beach, visitors have to share the sand with the jackass penguins, so-called because of their distinctive donkey-like call. I lived in an old farmhouse high on the hill in the south end of the town. Here I was able to draw and paint and find the peace and solitude I needed so badly. I'd hardly ever been on my own as an adult, basically because I was scared of being so. I'm sure this had much to do with spending so much time on my own as a child, locked up in my boxroom. Here in this wonderful environment, however, I was able to enjoy a peace I had never before known.

I spent many hours outdoors studying the wildlife. I'd watch porcupines sauntering slowly across the fields until they were suddenly threatened by baboons with ferocious yellow teeth. For what seemed like hours, I'd stand watching the schools of porpoises chase the tuna in the Atlantic Ocean. Sometimes I would just walk and think, contemplating my life and the direction it should take next. I often thought about the past and what had gone on, but I never dreamed that one day I would be sitting here telling my story. I was happy enough to have been given this opportunity to spend some time so very far away from everything I'd known.

The old Dutch-style farmhouse I lived in had white walls and an open porch with a little fenced garden. A couple of cows that belonged to the man in the next house would spend most of the day lolling in the garden. I would often sit there and draw them, but sometimes I would walk around the extensive grounds, past the old ruins which were at one time part of an even bigger, grander farmhouse building.

One day, when I was walking through these grounds, I spotted a piece of paper at my feet. Picking up the folded and yellowing sheet, I discovered that it was a horoscope that had been written many years before. The writing was flowery and of another age, beautifully set out with pen and ink. It was written for someone born on 18 June 1913, not exactly the same date as my own birthday but a Gemini all the same. For me at that moment it was like a message sent from someone somewhere. I looked all around for other signs of life among the rubble and weeds in this area, but there was nothing. Why this letter should have been at my feet at this time in my solitude I will never know, but it was. I read the lines over and over again, and some of the words leapt out at me:

In business life there is indication of change – many changes: such is your destiny, for your nature demands, subconsciously, a change of scenery. To travel is your lot – and if it is not possible to practically exercise this trait, then your reading should be arranged in order to preserve your personality whole – i.e. read books about travel . . .

As I read on, I could almost hear Auntie Nellie talking to me in her school-marm Edinburgh accent:

The golden rule is, of course, to do something about it – even if it is only a bus-ride.

My rational-thinking adult self tells me that it is purely coincidence that I found this letter, but it was as if this small faded piece of paper was talking directly to me. Although the letter was long-winded at times and used old-fashioned language, it still spoke to me. As I read on, it became clear that it had been written by a man:

It is a fact that several women have proved themselves better than men in certain branches, but I have noted that such people eventually 'de-feminise' themselves through repression of natural biological instincts.

These parts made me laugh. However, other parts spoke to me more directly:

You cannot possibly give of your mental or intellectual best unless you are spiritually settled.