KERI Part 4: Keri Karin Part Two (Child Abuse True Stories) by Ward Kat

Author:Ward, Kat [Ward, Kat]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Biographies
Publisher: Child Abuse True Stories
Published: 2014-01-13T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

Dreading what may happen when I returned to my lodgings, I went straight to the social club when I arrived back in Staines. It was only mid-afternoon and I didn’t see anyone in there that I knew but even that was better than going home and finding myself incarcerated and unable to go out again. I bought some Coke and a packet of crisps and sat at the corner table.

After about an hour, Dutch walked through the door. He had his hands in his pockets and his shoulders were slouched. I thought he looked as gloomy as I felt. He went to the bar and I didn’t think he’d noticed me until he walked over with a pint in one hand and a bottle of Coke in the other. “All right, Keri?” he muttered as he sat down opposite me.

“Not really,” I replied. “Thanks for the drink.”

I spent the next hour or so telling Dutch about Mother and Joan and their ‘plans’ to keep me under control. I grumbled about the need to find a new doctor and open a new bank account, mainly because I had no idea how one went about such things.

“Uh ... she can’t do anything about your bank account, Keri. It’s yours and nobody else, well except maybe the police if you was involved in a crime, is allowed access to it. She can’t even find out what your bank balance is. What you need to do is go see them at the bank and tell them some spiel about a woman you know might pretend to be you on the phone and tell them not to speak to her and that you’ll always come to the bank. See? In that way they’ve even had a warning. As for the doctor, well, it’s private, ain’t it? Your medical stuff. I’m pretty sure doctors ain’t allowed to talk about you or give away any information.” Dutch took a long gulp of beer. “’S a bit like priests and stuff. Confidential and all that.”

I hoped he was right but, even if he was, Mother was cunning and very likely to find a loophole or a way to force both the bank and the doctor to give her information about me. I still couldn’t shift the gloomy mood which engulfed me. I agreed to play darts and, for a while, I was distracted away from thoughts of how Mother might end up ruining my life.

My stomach began to rumble and growl quite loudly by early evening and Dutch suggested we go out to find something to eat. Having no better ideas, I trailed after him and we walked in silence to the little shop in Thorpe Lea Road. We each bought something to eat, probably a pie or Cornish pasty and ate as we walked back along the road toward the club.

“So, what you gonna do, then? Find a new place to live or what?”

I shrugged. “Maybe, I don’t really know what to do. My landlady is a bloody old dragon without anything my old baggage of a mother tells her to say and do.

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