Going Home

I'd got out of the taxi happy to be home.

I'd quickly walked in through the front door wanting to share the good time I'd had with them. I'd called out for her and then for him. Eager to see them both, eager to feel the warmth of family.

Smithy cottage still felt like home, like nothing had changed. I didn't suspect a thing.

Only when Paddy appeared did I realise something was wrong. He was distant, offhand and then he told me to pack my stuff, to leave my keys, saying coldly, "You don't live here anymore."

As the words sank in I realised I must have upset him somehow. I had to have. What other explanation could there be? And so I asked him, "Why? What have I done?"

Then he made the reason clear, all too painfully clear. It had been a relief to hear it wasn't anything I'd done. But the relief was short lived, quickly replaced by shock and hurt. Because she'd gone, because she'd left him, the Smithy wasn't home to me anymore. Because she'd hurt him, Paddy wasn't anything to me anymore, he didn't want to be anything to me, he wanted me out of his life, just like my mother was out of his life.

I charged down to Carl's, smashed open the door. I called her a slut and a slapper and told her I hated her and I did right then. I truly hated her. She'd hurt Paddy and she'd hurt me too.

I ended up staying at my Uncle Zaks, wondering how long I'd be there before they turfed me out again. I didn't even unpack, what was the point!

Then I thought I'd give Paddy another go, I liked him, I trusted him and I needed him, not that I'd admit it to anyone. I needed his friendship, his loyalty, I needed whatever more there was between us, and there was something more. I just didn't know what it was at the time.

So I blundered in, gob open, the wrong words spilling out, managing to turn him against me even more.

I wasn't going to give up though. I tried again a little later, hoping to use Clyde to worm my way back in.

But Paddy wasn't having any of it. We had words by the front door, then in desperation I told him, "I just want to live here." I didn't tell him why though; I didn't tell him it was because I needed him in my life.

We argued some more and then because I couldn't make him listen, because I couldn't make him understand I blamed him for what had happened, telling him he'd ruined everything.

I headed back to Zak's, hurting, angry. My Granddad was the only one there, his eyes glued to the telly, his interest as always elsewhere.

I felt so out of place. I didn't belong there. I didn't belong anywhere or to anyone and suddenly I needed to get away from the hurt, away from the people who'd hurt me. I got my stuff together and when Shadrach asked me where I was off to I said as far away from them all as was possible.

He didn't try to talk me into staying; why would he? He was just someone else who didn't give a toss about me.

I snuck into Paddy's and took Clyde, I couldn't leave him behind, he was all I had.

I had no idea where I was going, I didn't care. I had a fiver in my pocket, some loose change. I hadn't thought about how I'd eat, where I'd sleep, although I'd slept rough before so that wouldn't faze me.

We walked for miles, Clyde's tail wagging all the way, he at least was happy. I was thumbing it, but either they didn't like the look of me or of Clyde because no one stopped.

Hours later we were still traipsing along country roads. Too late I was beginning to think about what I'd done. I was tired, hungry. Clyde was thirsty and wanting his afternoon nap.

I wasn't going to turn back though, what was the point? I wasn't wanted back there.

Then Clyde sat down, refusing to budge. I wanted to sit down too but I knew if I did I wouldn't want to get up again. So I let him rest and I stood on the corner where I couldn't be missed. Hoping someone would take pity on me.

The car looked familiar but I didn't think for one minute it was him. I saw the indicator light flashing, knew the car was slowing down. I thought we'd got a lift at last. Then as the car got closer I realised it was Paddy, Clyde seemed to know too, he was barking, his tail showing his delight.

He was shouting at me before he'd even got out of the car, but it was good to hear his voice. We tossed some heated words back and to. Then he said he'd been looking for me all afternoon, telling me he cared about me. I knew he meant it, I could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice. Then he said he didn't want me to go and after everything I'd been saying to myself that afternoon I admitted to him and to me that I didn't want to go!

So I got in the car and we drove home, at least I thought I was going home, I'd taken it for granted I was staying at his. We got back and things seemed ok, he was telling me how well he'd been eating, even though I found his cupboards were bare. I picked out a kitchen cupboard for my stuff and suddenly he was looking at me like I'd grown another head, "Who says you're moving back?"

So we were right back to square one. He wanted reasons why he should let me "infest" his house again. I quickly give him a few failing to voice the real one, the fact that we needed each other.

He wasn't impressed and my heart sank, I didn't want to leave the place I saw as home, I didn't want to leave the man who'd made it my home.

Then he turned around giving me conditions, laying down the law and I readily agreed. I'd have agreed to anything at that moment. I just wanted to be there. Under his roof, under his watchful eye. Somewhere I felt safe and cared for and one day the place I'd realise I was loved.

End