Chapter 8 #2
‘Oh don’t misunderstand me, it’s not like I had a terrible childhood.
We were raised by nannies. Mainly a wonderful lady called Grace, but there were others that helped too.
Six boys is a lot to look after and quite often there was another lady called Frankie, who helped with ferrying us around our various afterschool activities, and helped out with the cooking sometimes too.
So it isn’t as if we were neglected, we had a good upbringing.
We took part in a lot of sports clubs, we had all the toys, computer consoles, bikes, mobile phones that we could wish for.
The house had this massive den in the basement with a pool table, Xboxes, PlayStations, a big TV, so we always hung out there with each other or our friends.
So I can’t say we had a deprived childhood.
In fact I know we were so much better off than the majority of children our age. ’
‘But you didn’t have a loving relationship with your parents?’
‘We never saw them growing up. They never came to our school plays or concerts, never shouted their support from the sidelines when we were playing sports. We didn’t even see them at weekends as mostly they weren’t even in the country.’
He took a sip of water. ‘We literally never saw them from one year to the next, not even at Christmas or birthdays. Sometimes we’d get a card with some money or gift card inside for our birthdays or Christmas, sometimes they’d even forget to do that.
Grace would fake a card from them if they forgot but you could always tell the cards that were from Grace – she’d write some effusive declaration of love and how proud they were of us, while our parents’ real cards would be signed “Mum and Dad” and that’s it.
Occasionally there would be a brief “Happy Birthday” but never any lovely heartfelt messages.
Even now when it’s our birthday, we get some cash deposited in our bank account, if they remember, and they don’t even bother with a card.
They never called to see how we were, never wrote or emailed.
We barely knew they existed. After Archer was born, Mum went back to work after a week.
My dad was at work the next day. There was never any bonding time, just enough time to recover from the birth and then they’d disappear. ’
‘I’m so sorry, that sounds really hard.’
He stared at her. ‘Most people don’t see it like that.
As one friend said, “You had everything any child could possibly want and you’re moaning because Mummy wasn’t there to kiss you goodnight.
” And I get it but I would have traded all of that to have my mum read me a bedtime story or have my dad hold me when I had a nightmare, or to have a hug from either of them and be told I was loved.
Consequently, I think we’re all pretty messed up because of the lack of love in our lives. ’
She squeezed his hand, her heart breaking for him. ‘I can only imagine how difficult that was for all of you. And the long-lasting repercussions from that.’
‘Well, all of my brothers are single and none of them have had long-term relationships so I’d say there’s quite a lot of lasting damage.’
Immy chewed her lip as she thought. That probably explained why Xander struggled with relationships, having never seen or experienced a loving one himself.
‘I just don’t understand why they would decide to have six children if they didn’t want anything to do with them,’ Immy said.
‘My aunt, my dad’s sister, one of the most indiscreet people I’ve ever met, told me that my dad had multiple affairs.
Every time my mum caught him at it or suspected, she would get pregnant because then he would have to spend time with her and not the other woman.
Reputation was everything for them and he couldn’t be seen with other women while his loving wife was at home pregnant with his child.
Apparently he had a vasectomy after Archer was born so she couldn’t use that tactic any more.
I have no idea if he is continuing his affairs or not, I don’t really care to get involved in their personal life. ’
‘Wow, that is crazy behaviour.’
‘You’re telling me. But it possibly explains a lot.
For my mum we were a reminder of all the times my dad betrayed her and for my dad a reminder of the times my mum used emotional blackmail against him.
Or they just didn’t want to be parents. But it does make me worry about my own capabilities as a parent.
I had no good role models, I have no idea what a good dad looks like. ’
‘I think it would make you a great dad. You’ll be determined not to repeat the same mistakes your own parents made. You’ll make sure Etta is loved and that she knows it. From what I can see, you’re doing a wonderful job of raising her alone.’
He looked out over the sea for a moment and let out a heavy sigh.
He turned back to her. ‘Sorry, this is a heavy topic for a first date. I probably do need to read those tips Max left for me after all.’
‘Don’t apologise. It helps me know you, the real you.’
‘What was your relationship with your parents like? I know your mum is no longer with us. But I don’t know much else.’
‘She died when I was nineteen, I was heartbroken. The three of us were very close and after she died that brought Alex and I even closer. My dad wasn’t on the scene at all.
Another dad who didn’t want to be a parent.
He walked out on us when Alex was two months old.
I was not even two so I have no memory of him at all.
We never saw him again. I have no idea if he’s still alive. ’
‘I’m sorry about your mum and that your dad missed out on knowing how amazing you are.’
She smiled. ‘Thank you. I think family is important and, while my parents are no longer in the picture, Alex, my niece, Zara and now Quinn are very special to me. When I had a brain injury, Alex looked after me and I’ll never forget that.’
He frowned. ‘I didn’t know you had a brain injury.’
‘Oh yes, many years ago, before Zara was born. I think I was twenty or twenty-one. I fell off a horse and, well, it made a bit of a mess of my brain. The frustrating thing was on the surface I was fine. I could walk, talk, seemingly everything was fine so people never took my brain injury seriously. But it was simple things like not being able to do the buttons up on my shirt or tie my shoelaces or remember how to make a cup of tea. Doing your buttons up is such a simple, automatic thing, you could read a book or watch a TV programme and do it at the same time without any thought at all. But for me the part of the brain that was responsible for those kinds of actions was damaged and so I’d hold the edges of a shirt together and the message from my brain to tell my fingers what to do just wouldn’t come through.
It led to a lot of tears and frustration, I can tell you.
And it wasn’t enough that someone would show me how to do it, multiple times, because I just couldn’t get my fingers to work like that. ’
‘Wow, that sounds difficult.’
‘It was. I mean, the easy answer is don’t wear a shirt, or pull the shirt over my head, but I wore a shirt every damn day and tried to do it up every single day.
Sometimes I could get one button done and that was enough, sometimes I’d get a few more done, sometimes it wouldn’t work at all.
But I wasn’t going to let it beat me. The brain has a tremendous ability to heal itself and if the parts of the brain responsible for something like tying shoelaces is irreversibly damaged then the brain can find a new route around the damage.
It takes time and I needed a lot of neurological physiotherapy to improve my mobility, strength, balance, co-ordination and to slowly teach my brain to do these things again. It was a long road.’
Xander looked at her with admiration. ‘It sounds like dogged perseverance and determination played a big factor in that too.’
‘Yes, it did.’
‘I admire you so much for that. It would have been so easy to just accept your lot – like you say, stop wearing shirts, wear Velcro shoes, give up tea – but you fought to get back to some normality. You should be proud of yourself for that.’
Immy bit her lip as she remembered. ‘So many doctors told me that these issues were likely to be permanent, but I didn’t accept that.
Then I found one doctor who talked to me about neuroplasticity, the brain’s ability to rewire itself, to rewrite those neuropathways so I could find a way.
He was the one that referred me for neurological physiotherapy and suddenly I had hope.
The worst thing you can do is take away someone’s hope.
But he told me there was a possibility that my brain could adapt.
So I did those exercises every damn day and I could feel myself getting stronger again, until slowly those problems went away.
It took a long time – even a year or two down the line I could do those little things like tying my hair in a ponytail or tying my shoelaces most days but then some days the block would just come back for no apparent reason.
It very much felt like one step forward, three steps back. ’
‘And everything is OK now?’