Invisible Child by Mary Hayward

Author:Mary Hayward
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Dysfunctional Relationships, Parenting & Relationships, Abuse, Women, Biographies & Memoirs, Specific Groups, Family Relationships
Publisher: Mary Hayward
Published: 2010-10-22T05:00:00+00:00

At fifteen I found a Saturday job at Cope’s Pools in Bridport Road, working in the cash office. They asked me to work a new contract that meant that I had to work into the evening until 7:30 p.m. In addition we got time and a half, which meant my total earnings for the Saturday could be as much as £7.50p, almost as much as other girls got in a full-time week.

I loved working there because, although I would have to pay for lunch, it was so much better than I got at home. Rice Pudding and Custard, which was my favourite, and then because we worked into the evening, they would provide free sandwiches, cream buns and a cup of tea.

The money was great whilst I was still at school because it meant I could go out with Joyce, who was working full time. Of course it wasn’t all mine. I had to give £5 to my mum each week for housekeeping, which left me with only £2.50p.

Joyce loved to get me to open up, do something risky and be a bit more like her. She always considered me too safe, and so one day she dragged me along to Turnpike Lane Station.

“Come on Mary,” she said, “we’re going on a shopping trip.”

I gave her a glum look. “Can’t afford it, Joyce.”

“It’s okay, I’ve already got the train tickets.” She was like a child with a new toy.

I should have suspected something, but maybe inside I needed to be taken to the edge. The train arrived and we leapt into a lovely warm carriage, and sat chatting away about the shops she wanted to visit. She almost bubbled with excitement as the train moved off.

“There’s only one problem, Mary.” She drew two tickets from her coat pocket.

“What?”

She looked down at the two tickets as she showed me.

“I snatched them from the porter’s hut.” She glanced up to see the look on my face. “They’re yesterday’s tickets.”

“Oh, that’s bloody great, Joyce!” If blood could boil! “So what do we do now?”

“It’s all right,” she said. “The tickets are valid for three days.”

I wasn’t convinced myself and I was even less confident when we got to Wood Green and saw that there was an Inspector waiting at the gate.

“It’s all right.” She tried to be reassuring, but I became flustered, and as I approached the ticket office, I dropped my ticket.

She was so good at bluffing, and there I was, grovelling on the ground for this ticket, frightened that I would be found out. Joyce had already gone through of course and blagged it and didn’t understand why I had a problem. Still, that was me. No matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn’t be as bold as she was, and I really struggled with it all.

Of course, what did she do?

Joyce just stood on the other side of the gate jumping up and down with a mixture of begging, frantic waving, and what I can only describe as some sort of Mexican dance routine.

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