When Mum left a few years ago, it was actually almost a relief. The idea of having your mum around is a good one in theory but, when they are total rubbish like Eleanor was, what's point really? I could never rely on her; she wandered in and out of our lives, causing friction, until one day she just never came back.
When she was around, the house was always full of strangers, and noise and chaos. She'd disappear for weeks on end and we didn't know where she was. When she came back, she and dad would always try to make it work; he'd find work, she'd lay off the drugs for a bit, there'd be a week or so of calm. We'd eat some meals together like a family, mum might do the washing, once or twice she even bought me some clothes and made me do a little fashion show for the two of them after dinner. (Dad told me that I was destined to be a supermodel but mum just rolled her eyes at him.)
I'd go to bed feeling really hopeful but then I'd be woken in the night by raised voices, angry accusations and smashing crockery. When I ventured out in the morning, to clean up the broken plates and stand the furniture up, mum had invariably packed her bags and gone.
So, when I came home from school and found the note to say she'd left for Spain and wasn't planning on ever coming back, I don't recall feeling that upset. I was eleven and used to taking care of myself, I was just disappointed that she'd chosen the day before my birthday to leave. I'd stupidly allowed myself to hope for a cake and maybe fish and chips down on the Platt like we'd done once before.
Honestly, I just felt stupid for imagining that life was ever going to be anything other than disappointing where Eleanor Glasson was concerned. I should have been very used to her unreliability and I thought I'd accepted it, so I was just annoyed at myself really. Other than that moment of feeling totally and utterly let down, I'm pretty lucky actually because it really hasn't affected me at all. I barely notice she's gone.
When dad finally came home that night, I told him about the note and he glanced at it quickly before throwing it back on the table without a word. After that, he was pretty quiet about everything though. I'd made our usual supper of baked beans on toast and a mug of tea and we ate it on the couch and watched the telly. He put the dishes in the sink and I wiped the table so I could spread my books out and do my homework. When he put on his coat, it was clear he planned to go out.
"Don't wait up my Princess" he said.
And he kissed me on the cheek and disappeared, as usual, into the night.
I did my homework and then read my book for a while but, when I looked at the clock in the kitchen and saw it was 11.30pm, I knew I had to go to sleep. I had to be on the bus to Wadebridge at 7.30am and I never missed it. The next day was my twelfth birthday but, of course, there was no sign of dad in the morning. It was hard to tell if his bed had been slept in because it was never made anyway but there was nothing to say he'd been home.
It didn't matter, I had a really good day at school. On the bus, I sat with my friends Caroline and Isobel. They'd both brought me presents so I was thrilled. Isobel gave me a poster of Spandau Ballet that I'd never seen before and I immediately knew exactly where on my bedroom wall I was going to put it. Caroline looked at it disdainfully; she was really into Duran Duran and I waited for her to just be a total bitch but she didn't say anything. Then she gave me a really sweet, plaited leather friendship bracelet that she bought in Bude a few weeks earlier. She attached it around my wrist and I thought it looked fantastic. They'd even got me a card and some of the other girls had written in it so I was really cheered up.
When we finally arrived back in Port Wenn on the afternoon bus, Caroline's mum was there in her car to pick her up as they lived in a farmlet out of town. Isobel and I were ready to climb the hill to our homes until I heard someone call my name and I realised that Mrs Norton and Mrs Pratt were waiting for me. They'd come to meet me because they'd made me a birthday cake but there was also little box of homemade preserves, a couple of bottles of ginger beer, and some pasties, still warm from the oven.
It was so kind. I always felt like they were watching over me and that I was really lucky to live in this village where people looked out for each other. Thanks to them, I had the best birthday dinner I'd ever had, even though I had to eat it alone.
Dad eventually came home about a week later. He was in the kitchen when I got home from school and he enveloped me in a big hug as soon as I walked through the door.
"How is my beautiful Princess?" He asked, lifting me up off the floor and kissing me on the cheek.
He hadn't shaved for a while and his face was prickly. He also smelt a bit of stale cigarette smoke and he had alcohol on his breath but I tried not to pull a face because I was still really happy to see him. He finally let me go and I went to put get changed out of my uniform.
"Has anyone been round?" I heard him ask.
"No," I called out from my bedroom. "Who were you expecting?"
I hung my skirt up on a hanger, slipped off my tie without undoing the knot, and put my blouse over the back of a chair. I only had one school uniform, so I was trying to look after it. I chucked on a t shirt and a pair of old cords, and wandered back out to find dad, but not before standing and admiring my Spandau poster for the hundredth time that week. The boys were all wearing suits and they looked so sophisticated and cool. Tony Hadley, my favourite, looked especially divine.
When I walked into the kitchen, Dad was making us both a cup of tea and he had his back to me. Immediately I noticed there was a dark green, velvet box on the table.
"Your old dad picked you up a little something." He said. "Fit for a real Princess."
I glanced at the box.
"Go on, open it!"
I looked at him, standing there with a steaming mug of tea in each hand. He looked rough and tired but he was smiling at me encouragingly.
I picked up the box and tried to open it. It was clearly a jewellery box but it was stiff and the hinges were unwieldy. I remember that I was worried about how much force I needed to prise it open because I was scared that I would end up breaking it but eventualIy I pulled hard and it snapped open like a trap. Inside was some sort of silver locket on a chain. Clearly, it was old and well used but also very delicate and pretty.
"If you open the little case, my darlin', inside it's a watch. A really old one. Have you ever seen anything as beautiful as that?"
Dad was clearly delighted with his gift to me. I tried to slip the cover open but it wouldn't budge. I twiddled the winding mechanism at the top, but it just spun in my fingers so I realised sadly that the watch part didn't actually work. Still, I didn't have much in the way of jewellery, and we certainly weren't flush with antiques, so I was quite touched. I turned my back to dad, and lifted up my hair.
"Can you do it up for me please?" I said, trying to sound enthusiastic.
"I'd be delighted, your Majesty" he replied with a twinkle in his voice.
He fiddled with the awkward catch for a moment and then managed to get it done up. I walked into my bedroom so I could see what it looked like and I was quite pleased with the result. It sat perfectly in the little dip at the base of my throat, and it felt smooth and warm.
"It doesn't half suit you, my girl." Dad said, as I walked back into the kitchen, and he gathered me up in a hug again.
"You're growing up so beautiful, ain't ya? You should have lots of pretty things."
I kissed his bristly cheek and we stood there for a moment, holding each other in silence. Mum was gone forever, but at least my dad loved me enough to stick around and try his best to look after me.
And, for the next year or so, thats how it was. We rubbed along easily, Dad got a bit of work here and there so we were ok. He worked the occasional shift helping change barrels at The Crab, and sometimes helped out a builder mate of his in Wadebridge. Occasionally, I would come home to a note on the table, and he'd be gone for a few days, but he never left me alone for long so it was fine. I was really busy with school anyway. I had loads of friends and I was doing as many extra curricular things as I could manage and still make it on to the last bus home.
The best thing though was that I was really enjoying my classes and I was getting good results. My form teacher was really motivating and she talked to me a lot about how much potential she thought I had. I started to seriously think about what I wanted to do with my life and she encouraged me to really start setting goals. The only thing that I really felt strongly about was that I wanted to be able to always take care of myself. But, when she told me that I had the ability to go to university and make something of my life, my perspective changed and I started to really think about a career.
Its funny how I remember the day so clearly. Dad had ruffled my hair that morning and told me he'd be gone for a few days and not to worry. I was surprised to see him up and about so early but I hadn't even looked up from my magazine. I merely grunted "See ya." at him and carried on chewing on my toast, savouring the last quiet moments before I had to run down the hill in the rain and get the bus.
After lunch I'd had a meeting with the Careers Advisor and she had asked me quite a lot of really challenging questions. She'd scribbled notes down on her pad and then we'd hashed out some scenarios which had given me so much to think about. I'd walked out of her office with not only a carry bag full of pamphlets but, more importantly, the feeling that there was a huge world out there, away from Port Wenn, and it could be mine for the taking.
I was pretty distracted for the rest of the day and I decided to give Drama Club a miss, and go straight home after school. I wanted to read all the pamphlets and start making sense of the options. I loved the feeling that my life suddenly had opportunities and the thought made me almost dizzy with excitement. I was actually glad that Isobel and Caroline weren't on the bus with me today so I could daydream all the way home. I felt like I'd been given the key to something marvellous and I spent the next hour with my head against the window and my legs curled up under me, wrapped up in a new and delicious sort of happiness I'd never felt before.
When the bus got to Port Wenn, it had finally stopped raining. There were loads of people milling around as usual but I didn't take much notice. I was hungry and keen to get home so I grabbed my school bag and, after thanking the driver, I skipped down the steps onto the road. And that's when I ran straight into the large, square, bulky frame of P.C Lester Tregurtha.
"Aaah, young Louisa Glasson" he said as quietly as his deep and generally booming voice would allow. "You and me just need to have a little chat."
