Hookers: Their Lives in Their Words by Julian Davies

Author:Julian Davies
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Milo Books Ltd
Published: 2011-07-20T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Pam

Age: 33

Bolton

AS A CHILD I lived on a small farm with my younger sister, my two older brothers and my mother and father. The farm had everything we needed and was fantastic for us kids. We had horses, cows, ducks, chickens and pigs and an abundance of eggs, meat and fresh vegetables. We never went hungry. Every year gypsies would come and work on ours and the surrounding farms for a few months. I have great memories of playing hide and seek and various other games with their children. They were so full of life and if they weren’t working they were playing or singing around a camp fire.

This one day I came home from school and saw an ambulance and a police car outside the house. I don’t know why but I knew straight away someone was dead. I was only twelve but had the feeling that it was either my mother or my father. I was too scared to open the front door for fear of what awaited me. A neighbour came out of the house crying and left the door open. I walked in and there were various people in the house, relatives, neighbours, friends, ambulance men and a police officer. Suddenly my mother held me and I knew my father was the one who had died.

My mother took me and my two brothers, who had just turned up, into the back room. She told us how my father had died and all the time she was crying her eyes out. He had gone out in the morning on his tractor to do some work on one of the fields. He always came home at half twelve for his dinner, but on this occasion he was very late so my mother went to look for him. My dad was never late for his food, you could set your watch by him. She walked across the fields and between a small field and a lane she found my father’s tractor overturned and my dad crushed to death.

My younger sister was at a neighbour’s house and we went to stay there for a few days as well. Mum needed time to sort out the funeral and dad’s affairs. She came to see us every day and she looked really worn out. Her eyes were red from crying and even as a child I could see the pressure was getting to her. To cut a long story short, over the next year we lost the farm and my mother killed herself after we got taken into care. She had been suffering severe depression and I guess the last straw was losing her children. My younger sister eventually got taken in by distant relatives but as they already had a large family there was no room for my brothers and myself.

In the care home I was always getting into trouble. To tell you the truth I was a right pain in the arse. I got moved around from care homes to various foster homes but I was just getting into trouble everywhere I went.

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