Running Away to Australia
I do know that even at this stage in my life I was very unhappy at home.  A friend of mine, Billy Price, who lived just a round the corner in First Avenue and his family were emigrating to Australia.  On the day he was due to leave I ran away from home.  I crept out of my bottom bunk in case I woke my 'brother', grabbed my clothes and took them to the bathroom to get dressed.  Having completed that part of the operation the problem was now to get downstairs.  We had stairs that creaked.  I knew where the creaky steps were, and I thought I had worked out how to get around them.  Miss that one completely, step on the far left of that one, far right on that one, and just on the edge of that one.  The stair creaked... too bad. Nobody moved. Everything was still quiet, so I continued downstairs.

I got out of the house and ran round to Billy Prices house.  It was light but must have still been very early in the morning.  I sat on his front step with a small bag holding a few clothes, waiting for him to wake up.  I awoke with a start when his mum opened the door and I fell through it.

She took me inside and asked me what was going on.  I told her I had runaway from home because I was so unhappy and my dad hits me.  I asked if I could go with Billy and them to Australia? 

She took me into the kitchen for a hot drink and some toast and called Billy from his bed.  When I told Billy what I done and planned he begged his mum to take me with them. 

After a little while she explained I couldn’t go with them and that I had to go back home.  I begged her not to send me home.  As I recall I even cried, mainly with unhappiness but also with fear at the thought of what 'Dad' would do to me if I went back home.

Billy's mum 'phoned mine and 'Dad' was going to come and pick me up.  I said goodbye to Billy and said I wouldn’t go back home.  I ran out of the front door straight into my dad who was just walking up the garden path.  He grabbed me and put me in the car and took me home.  I was grounded for a month, though we didn’t call it grounded in those days.  I wouldn’t be allowed out with my friends or on my bike at all.  I was allowed to go to school and straight home and that was it.

I don’t know whether it had anything to do with the Price family moving to Australia, but my foster parents started to make enquiries at Australia House in the Strand in London about us moving to Brisbane, Australia.  The whole process was very lengthy and I didn’t have very much to do with any of it.  But when we were all called up to Australia House a while later for an interview we all went as a family.

There were health checks, and work checks and all sorts of stuff going on and a long while after the interview we received a letter from Australia House saying we couldn’t move.  I am not sure whether it was because I a foster child or because I had a weak chest (I seem to think it was the latter) but we couldn’t go and it was made clear to me it was my fault!

Illnesses

As a child I suffered greatly from asthma and chest complaints.  The doctors now say that this asthma is largely an emotional illness, and from experience I can see that this was so in my case.  It was nearly always after an emotional upset at home, usually my 'father' abusing me one way or another, that I suffered worst.  My 'illness' always upset him more and so the vicious circle went on.

My worst experience was an asthma attack that I thought was going to kill me.  As always I never called anyone for help.  It was a really bad attack in the middle of the night and the only thing I could do was to open and hang out the bedroom window to try and get some air.  'Dad' walked in and belted me without asking what was going on and threw me back into bed.  I remember wondering what was the point of living with a life like this!

I had my tonsils out when I was about 6.  I went to Kingston Hospital for this and remember having the pre-med injection and I got as far as 5 in the countdown.  I remember waking up though as they carried me on a stretcher down the stairs.  I don’t know if this because the lift was out of order, or maybe there was no lift.  But the experience has given me a fear of hospitals that has stayed with me ever since.

I do remember at some time going into West Molesey cottage hospital but I don’t remember what it was for.

Park Street Primary

In the natural course of things I moved to Park Street Primary School.  I was not happy at this move.  I had been very happy in my infant school (Chandlers Field Primary School as it is now called).  I remember being bullied extensively at Park Street.  I started having all sorts of difficulties because of my fears and insecurities.  It didn’t help that when I got home I was then humiliated and abused over those!!  It didn’t last for long fortunately as it coincided with us moving to Frome.

MOVED TO FROME

It was only a year or so after we couldn’t go to Australia that we moved to Frome in Somerset.  We moved to 84 Nunney Road, which mother named 'The Hollies' after her favourite band of the time.  Nan and Grandad Garland moved with us.  They bought a cottage in a nearby village called Great Elm (pronounced 'Gert Elm').




to be continued..........