my father - part 3

So we were up to round one of the Marjorie versus Alexis fight yes?

So anyway, the next morning I woke to find my father gone on his round the countryside adventure and to say I was hurt and disappointed was an understatement. I rang my mum and she gave me a bit of strength. I continued on in my daily ritual of television, television, food, cigarettes a bath and then more television. Marjorie would come home and attempt to start some type of argument with me. I actually distinctly remember the day after that first argument when she came home and I was up to the afternoon viewing of home and away - she came in and began to pick up the cushions next to me, puff them up - make tsk tsk noises and attempt to get me to pick some type of fight. This was what type of wacko I was dealing with.

The days lagged on and although relations were icy, we began to get on with our normal everyday lives again. Me stuck in the house, while they carried on working. But everything about Marjorie began to make me irritable. I never forget bad behaviour and so I began to watch her closely and things began to annoy the absolute crap out of me. Apparently she was allergic to salt, pepper any flavourings or seasoning so dinner was bland and boring every night. Our long weekend drives became torture sessions where they would pretend everything was fine, while I would sit behind her in the car seething and I began to contemplate what would happen if I put pepper into her food.

It was around this time that she came home and announced over dinner that she had someone that she wanted me to meet, a friend that I could make -Naomi a flatmate of a fellow teacher she worked with - who invited me over to her house in Norwich on the saturday night. I was so excited, I'd been in the country for 2 months and I hadn't been anywhere! They dropped me at Naomi's house and she took me out for a wild night on the town! We had lots of fun and it remains a very positive memory of that journey. The monday after that event, Naomi rang me shocked to tell me that her flatmate had come home from school and told her that Marjorie was talking about the 'slut' that was staying at her house and basically saying horrendous things about me. The flatmate couldn't believe she was saying so many outrageous things about me and told Naomi to let me know. I rang my Mum and coupled with the homicidal thoughts I was having, she advised me to get out of there asap, store my luggage there and spend the rest of my money on an European trip and then come home. It sounded great to me. Now I just had to get a chance to find my father on his own. Marjorie never allowed him and I to be alone.

My chance came one morning when I saw him go to the garage tinkering with his car. I went out and calmly said something to the effect of 'I don't think this is working.. this is what has been happening.. explained the slut name calling.. offered my reasons and said I was going to go on a European jaunt.. store my luggage with him and then go home'. He took it all in with little reaction, he accepted my reasonings etc. But by this time Marjorie had got wind of me and my father alone and came out to us in the garage. I turned around and said 'will you just FUCK off'. And yes, well things decidely took a turn for the worse. My father was mortified that I had spoken like that in public - she began shrieking at me and I let it all out, 3 months of her bullying, intimidation and just plain evil tactics against me. My father turned to me and said 'I didn't ask for this, I didn't ask for this to happen. You and me we are like chalk and cheese'. And I turned to him and said 'Well I am the child here, I didn't ask to be born. You are supposed to be a father. And I am mighty glad that we are like chalk and cheese, because if you had been more of an influence on me I might have turned out like YOU'. He then said that I was to leave his house immediately and that he would call the Police. I rang my Mum hysterical and she was livid, absolutely furious. She said 'do NOT leave, you wait till tomorrow morning - tell him to call the police'. I then rang Naomi and asked her if she knew anywhere that I could stay and I am forever thankful to her, she gave me details for a bed and breakfast near Norwich train station. I rang my Mother back to tell her this and she said 'hold on girly, I'm leaving on a Malaysian airlines flight - I'll see you there - you tell that bastard I'm coming over and he had better watch out!'

I retreated to my bedroom and began to sort my stuff out. I began to think about how I could defy them in the next 12 hours until I was forced to leave their house. I began to smoke in my bedroom, ashing into the pot purri bowl that Marjorie had so lovingly left for me. I took the card where she had welcomed me into her family; tore it into little pieces and littered it all over the bedroom. I took all of my clothes down to the laundry and began washing and drying all of my clothes. At one point I walked past Marjorie when my father wasn't near and she leant in and said 'look at your GOOGLY eyes!' (yes she remembered that pearler, from last entry!!), I laughed and said that at least I wasn't a barren old woman who a problem with facial hair. Once they went to bed I continued my small acts of defiance against them. I called every single person in my telephone book *blush* and spent most of the night on the phone to everybody. I then went up to the bathroom, had a bath and then with much pleasure tipped as much as I could out onto the carpet (the bathroom was carpeted). Pretty shallow types of revenge, but I was 21.

I slept for a couple of hours and set my alarm to wake me early. When they woke up - I had everything packed and waiting. My check in was at 10am but at 7 I was ready to get out of there. My father packed my suitcase in the boot and drove me alone into Norwich. He didn't say one word to me. We stopped at the hotel, he parked - got out and carried my suitcase out of the boot, along the footpath and up the stairs into the bed and breakfast. He carefully put my suitcase down, turned on his heel and walked away from me. I stood there, shocked beyond belief that my father - my Daddy would leave me without even saying goodbye. Its fair to say at this point that I collapsed with grief, even now thinking about it is incredibly painful to me. How could someone do that? How could they walk away without a second glance. He didn't know that my Mother was coming. He just left me alone. The manager of the place was witness to this and knew something serious was up - she quickly moved heaven and earth to get me into a room earlier - and I collapsed into bed. I remember little of this time, I know I did a lot of crying - I didn't leave the room. I didn't eat. I just cried.

The next morning - my mum arrived at Norwich train station, with a huge suitcase and nothing in it. She was steely and angry and immediately tried to ring my father at home. Luckily for him, there was nobody home. I remember her turning to me and saying, ok kiddo - lets enjoy this place for a few more days before we head on home hey? Where do you want to go? and I said LONDON please, London! So after a day or two longer in Norwich, Norfolk - we left by train. We went and caught Phantom of the Opera in London and then caught a boat to Amsterdam where I smoked a lot of pot - we wrote phantom postcards addressed to Marjorie at her workplace and blew off steam this way. The laughs we had as I penned a thank you postcard to Marjorie thanking her for her recommendations for a clitoris piercer were loud and long and sustained us for many a train trip! After a week we got on the plane and headed home to Darwin where as we landed I began to cry. I didn't want to be back there, and I fell into a black hole. I stayed at home - here I was; home again - and I didn't want to face people and tell them that my father didn't want me.

About 2 weeks after I returned home, one of my friends who I had worked with in a nightclub up in Darwin, rang me. She had moved to Melbourne and invited me to come down and join her. Her boyfriend at the time was a freight pilot and he organised for me to be flown down on a freight plane for a bottle of gin. So, off I went to Melbourne - with a suitcase, a bottle of gin for the pilot and a trip to a city I had never been to. The rest as they say, is history.

I still have more to tell about my father. There is current stuff still going on. I will tell you, but it will have to be the concluding chapter, because this entry is soooooo long.