So Far Divided Read online

  Amy sat back and laughed.

  “You wouldn’t think this was my sister,” Amy shouted and Jane quickly grabbed her by the arm and pushed her into the headmistress’s office, closing the door with a bang when they were both inside.

  I went off to change into my apron as I knew the best thing to do at that moment was to ensure that all the children were in their classes, with their teachers and to try to maintain some sense of equilibrium as everybody seemed to be looking around in confusion.

  It was some time before Jane appeared with Amy and she marched her sister to the school door and literarily threw her out into the street.

  I went to Jane and she gave me a sign that all was well and that the day should continue in its normal way. Nothing more was seen of Amy after that and I presumed she had taken the message to heart and had gone off to live her life as she wanted. I went into Jane’s office and I could see she was upset as I suggested that perhaps it would be best if she went home to rest, but she declined my offer and smiled as if everything was normal again.

  Later that day I had the ‘wholesome task’ of arse cleaning where four of our children had the runs.

  At 3.30pm I knocked on Jane’s office door and she invited me in, but her demeanour was not as it normally was and she bit her lip as I sat down and she started talking again about her sister Amy, telling me that she knew she always was a pest, but she thought that as she grew up, she might have had a better idea of life and how to live in peace with others. Apparently, the man that Jane thought she was in love with and who had gone off to Scotland with Amy had been in touch with Jane to tell her that Amy had left him, but as Jane started to tell me the story, I could well have reminded her that she had already told me about that particular problem, but I let her go on talking rather than be rude and upset her by saying I had heard it all before, however there was ONE THING that I had not heard before. Apparently Amy had been keeping in touch with Damian, her soon to be ex-husband, telling him how handsome this other guy was, that she had met in a night club in London and also that he was much younger than Damian and . . . to use her own rude and vulgar words . . . was much better in bed . . . and Jane made me laugh when she added, the bed which must have been under the arches as Amy didn’t have a place to stay since she came to London and what was worse, SHE HAD NO MONEY.

  We went home a little later than usual as Jane needed some groceries and we stopped at one of the nearby shops, but when we eventually did arrive at the flat . . . Amy was sitting on the front garden fence with her legs crossed and a banana in her hand. Jane looked horrified and sighed deeply as she knew she could never get rid of her sister as easily as she would have liked.

  We went indoors and Amy followed, throwing the banana skin onto the kitchen floor, just missing the waste bin.

  “Pick that up and then get out,” Jane demanded, but Amy grinned again and looked at me for support. I turned away, but not before Amy grabbed my arm and stared into my face.

  “Wouldn’t you think she would be more gracious and kind to her only sister?” she asked me but I ignored the question as I tore my arm away from her grasp and went upstairs to my room, where I could hear the two sisters arguing madly below.

  I stayed in my room as I knew there was nothing I could do to resolve the matter, and about an hour later, I could hear a scuffle and the front door was slammed closed.

  I came downstairs and Jane was standing in the lounge trembling with rage and I made her sit down.

  “That bitch should never have been born,” she said “She asked me who the hell you were to be sharing my flat and she inferred . . .”Jane stopped talking and started to cry.

  “She inferred what?” I asked and Jane put out her hand to touch mine, “Steph . . I am ashamed of my sister. She is rude, vulgar, insolent and . . .” but before anything more was said, I could hear a strange noise at the front door and the letter box was pushed open. I stared at Jane and she swallowed hard as she looked me straight in the eye, and a voice screamed from the porch outside “Oi you there. . . you in there with the face like a duck’s arse. Are you a fuckin’ lesbian?”. Jane rushed to the door and opened it quickly to find Amy holding a heavy iron bar in her hand. She wrestled it from her and screamed for her to get to hell, but Amy threw the bar down and made a rude finger sign before she did run away. Jane turned to me and apologised for her sister’s rudeness, but I wasn’t in the least put out as I had been criticised many time before for being far worse that what Amy described. My own aunt Sarah and uncle Martin had called me worse. To them I was a whore. . . but Jane closed the door and we retired again to the lounge. That evening was a silent one as neither of us could comprehend what had happened nor what to expect next and that night when I went to bed, I had nightmares of the flat being torched and burnt down . . . dreams can be so frightening even if they have no foundation.

  Days and evenings passed without incident and it seemed that Amy had disappeared from our scene entirely, but we were getting telephone calls where there was no-one there when we picked up the phone. It could well have been an error on the part of the telephone people or else it could have been someone who wanted to know if we still lived at the flat. There was nothing we could have done about this and so we had to get on with our lives with no Amy to interfere, but on one particular evening when the phone rang, there was a voice on the other end. From the expressions and vulgar terms used, it could only have been Amy.

  “Hi there, you fuckin’ arseoles. Hope your still at it cos I’m gonna bring my new boyfriend round to see you and surprise, surprise, he wants to marry me . . . Ha Ha! “

  It was Jane who had taken the call and I watched her face as she slammed the phone down and stared at the wall. It was a few silent moments before she told me what had been said.

  “Do you think we can believe that?” Jane asked but she was staring at the wall when her question came. “Do you think any man would want to marry that . . . that thing? I hope if she does, she doesn’t bring him round here. I don’t want to see him Steph. He must be a very low type to want to attach himself to her in any way and what will she do now with Damien . . I don’t think they are divorced yet, but then that won’t worry Amy. She would go with any man for a few pounds.”

  Nothing happened about the threat and we started to imagine that what Amy had said over the telephone was some sort of a joke . . . a ploy to annoy us and she was well used to doing that, but another call came about a week later and the same voice spoke into the phone “I haven’t forgotten dearies . . .Just getting myself decked up for the wedding. You’ll be pleased to see me lookin’ so nice, won’t you . . . you stupid bastards. Won’t be long now. Damian can go to hell.”

  We didn’t believe a word of what Amy said as she was prone to making rude jokes and Jane was sure whatever her sister did, she would never marry anyone again, as married vows meant nothing to her if there was no money involved, and for a long time the phone calls ceased. We thought the jokes had all dried up and started to live our lives in the peace that we had enjoyed for so long before the pest from Scotland entered our lives.

  Each day at the school was a ‘little adventure’ with so many things happening to the children that would make us laugh . . and sometimes even cry, but life was pleasant.

  Until one very sad day when we came home from school and were making our way into the flat, when the dreaded female Amy appeared as large as life, with a man standing beside her with his back to us. We knew in that moment that she was not joking about the ‘partnership’ whoever he was and Jane stood in front of me to see exactly what it was that Amy wanted on this particular occasion, but within seconds, I could hear her cries. Amy was dressed in a purple thigh length skirt which showed her knickers of bright red colour. On her hair she had a tiara of what looked like orange peel and Jane was about to laugh when Amy stretched out her hand to hit her. It was in that moment that I intervened and told Amy
to clear off and do whatever she wanted to do, but not on our doorstep and as I was speaking, the man beside Amy turned round in an instant, calling my name out so unexpectantly, and I got the shock of my life . . .

  “Stephanie. . . Stephanie Cohen . . What are you doing here?” the man called out and I fainted.

  I remembered nothing until Jane was standing over me and rubbing my hand.

  “Stephanie . . are you alright. You fainted my dear. The others have gone. I just closed the door on them when I saw you pass out. How are you now. Can I get you something?”

  I knew I had to talk to explain my action but my voice seemed to have got lost in my throat until Jane brought me a glass of water and I sat up

  “The man . . the man, Jane, that man with Amy. . .” I was struggling to get my words out.

  “Yes Steph . . what are you saying. Did you recognise that man?”

  “That man was Aaron . . ,my brother Aaron,” I said and I could feel myself going into a faint again.

  Jane rushed about around the flat not knowing what to so and weak as I felt, I told her to sit down or make a cup of tea as there was nothing else that could be done and eventually we settled down as best we could but the shock of seeing Aaron . . . and with Amy, was more than I could ever have expected. To see one or other of them was enough of a shock to the system, but to see the two of them together, . . my brother and Jane’s sister was something I would never have believed if anyone had told me that this was FACT and not fiction.

  Jane and I had decided to put the entire matter behind us as we considered the matter to be ‘too stupid’ even if serious, to give more thought to the incident, but four days after, shortly after we had arrived back from school and were about to settle down to a quick meal of fish and chips, the doorbell rang out and we stared at each other.

  I rose from the table and went to the door but Jane followed behind with a rolling pin in her hand, being precautious owing to the recent intrusion. I opened the door and was stunned to see Aaron standing there. I looked for Amy, but she wasn’t with him and as I was about to close the door again, Jane held my arm and opened the door wide.

  “What do you want?” she demanded, “You have caused enough trouble here and I would rather you go way,” but Aaron shook his head and his face seemed to crease up as he quickly apologised and asked us to please let him in to talk to his sister. Jane was about to tell him to get lost when I looked at her and she changed her mind. I knew what I had suggested by my look would most probably have been a waste of time, but somehow I thought it best to find out what Aaron had to say and Jane escorted him into the lounge.

  He sat on the settee and I knew he was having a difficulty in explaining his actions, but after the trouble with Martin, I felt I just had to know what was going on in my family.

  “Stephanie, I am ashamed of what I have done and I can’t apologise enough,” he said, “I should never have listened to that . . . that woman when she told me that she had two friends who had invited us to dinner and we arrived here. That was a terrible mistake and I can’t understand why she should do that. Had it not been for you, Stephanie I would never have known your friend here and how this . . this tart would suggest me coming here with her, is a mystery to me unless . . .”

  I waited for the further explanation and Aeron’s guess was as good as my own. Amy wanted to shame her sister and Aeron had no idea that I was here.

  “I am truly ashamed,”Aaron went on, “but Stephanie, you might as well know now, that I am not a good person to be with. I have been married twice and divorced twice and my life is a wreck. I have no morals and sex is a ‘habit’ with me like a drug. I have tried in the past to live a celibate life, but that only lasts a week and then I am at it again.

  I go with prostitutes and I regularly go to night clubs for only one reason.”

  I wondered if Aaron was as sexually aware at the age of fifteen, but I couldn’t ask him that question and any way, I was in and out of hospitals a lot at that time and anything could have happened. . . I felt sorry for Aaron as there seemed to be no peace in his life, but there was nothing I could do to help him in his ‘problem’ He was about leave the flat with more apologies when he suddenly turned round and used the name Steph. which I thought was strange as he had never used it before, but he asked me why I hadn’t been at the funeral and I couldn’t make out what he was talking about.

  “Uncle Martin’s funeral,” he said and looked at me as if I had lost my memory, but I assured him that I knew nothing of the funeral and that Aunt Sarah must have forgotten to tell me, but that was very strange . . I never ever thought it possible to have a funeral in the family and not be told and then I began to wonder if perhaps Sarah knew something about Martin that could not be discussed with anyone.

  Perhaps she knew more than she let on as she had been rather neglectful to Martin in the ‘bedroom department’ according to what Martin told me when he was looking for ‘love’ elsewhere. I made an excuse to Aaron as he was leaving the flat that I was most likely told either by telephone or by letter, but that my life had been so busy of late that I probably forgot. I told him I would get in touch with Sarah and he left the flat with even more apologies.

  Chapter Eleven

  The evening after Aaron left our flat, I had arranged to telephone Sarah and find out more about the funeral I hadn’t been invited to but one of the children at the school had been taken ill where he was vomiting a lot and his mother phoned us to ask if I could come home to see the little boy as he was asking for me by name. I knew the little lad as Billy Bunter as he was quite obese in his appearance, but I knew I could not address him by that name when I called at his home, so I looked up the register and found that he should be called William Hillier, or Billy as we knew him at school, but without the BUNTER, so Jane was happy that I should go to see this little boy but when I got to his house, he had already been taken into hospital. It was nearly seven in the evening when I arrived at the hospital and the little boy had been diagnosed by the doctor to have appendicitis and had already been taken down to the theatre.

  Billy’s mother was pleased to see me and told me how Billy had been asking for me and she felt I must have made something special of him at school, but lovely though this little boy was, he was no more to me than any of the other children. I loved them all, but Jane made a joke about it saying I was special to all the children and she always knew I was a flirt from the first time she ever met me.

  The following morning I phoned Sarah and got the shock of my life, She called me a filthy bitch and never wanted to ever see me again, before she banged down the phone and I was lost to understand why, but at least I had some reason why I hadn’t been invited to the funeral. I waited for nearly a week before I decided I would call and see Sarah in the hopes that she might have calmed down and changed her mind, but I was prepared for anything as I stood on the doorstep of the house that had once been my home and waited . . . I rang twice before Sarah came to the door and to my utter surprise she threw her arms around me and begged me to forgive her for what she had said.

  I could hardly say a word before she had ushered me into the house and suggested we should have a cup of coffee whilst she would explain the problem and we did that, but Sarah was nervous whenever she moved about the lounge.

  “I have been such a pain, Stephanie and I must tell you how sorry I am. I would have invited you to the funeral, of course I would but Martin didn’t speak well of you before he died and I was told a lot of lies. I know that now and I could kill myself for the harm I have done. Martin told me that you had tried to seduce him on several occasions, but because he knew I would be hurt if he told me about it, he kept silent, but after the funeral I went into a drawer in the sideboard of our bedroom and I discovered that it was Martin who was the seducer. Can you come upstairs with me and I’ll show you what I found?”

  We did not finish our coffee for
the anxiety of what we would find and I followed Sarah upstairs where she took a bundle of what looked like photographs from the drawer which were wrapped around with an elastic band and she threw them on the bed.

  “Look at that,” she demanded in a solemn voice and when I picked up the parcel to look, I was disgusted to see that the snaps were of little boys and girls and every one of them was naked. I threw them back on the bed and Sarah started to cry.

  “Martin and I have not had sex for over ten years,” she said and I began to realize why Martin had acted in the way he did with me when he thought he might be able to ‘relieve himself’ at my cost.

  I finished my drink downstairs and Sarah cuddled me warmely before she gave me another little envelope and I asked her what it was.

  “I should have given you that a long time ago, my dear,” she said, “It is the name and address of the people who adopted your little son, Jonathon. You may want to try to find him, if he is still alive and if he is, he will be a young man by now.”

  I was so excited with the information that Sarah gave me that I ran all the way beck to the flat to tell Jane, but as I had already decided I was going to try to find my little, or big Jonathon, I would have to let Jane into my secret, otherwise you would never know where I was in my search or what I was looking for and I could see by the address in the envelope that Sarah gave me, this family were from Somerset and that wasn’t an easy place to get to.

  Jane was overwhelmed when I told her about my predicament when I was a little girl of twelve and she was as enthusiastic as I was to look for Jonathon, with great hopes and prayers that we would find him. I thought it was rather strange too that when I got the information from Sarah I never once thought that Jonathon had died, but where was he?

  That was the burning question . . . and if he was alive somewhere, would he be married? Would he have other children of his own, making me a grandmother . .