Essex Boy: My Story Read Online Free PDF Page A

Mum and us. I don’t know, and really that is Dad’s business, not mine.
    I don’t remember what we did that first visit – I don’t think we stayed overnight – but what always sticks in my mind is that as we were leaving, pulling out into the
road in the car, a woman with brown hair came walking up and Dad gave her the house keys.
    ‘Dad, who is that?’ Daniel asked.
    ‘Just the cleaner, so she needs my keys,’ he replied casually, looking straight ahead out the front of the car, and we thought nothing more of it.
    But after a few more visits we found out differently. ‘The cleaner’ was in the house, and Dad introduced her as Stacie, his new girlfriend. I don’t know if he thought we
wouldn’t remember her from that first visit, but we did. I was so angry. I didn’t say anything, but in my head I was shouting at him, ‘You liar, that wasn’t the cleaner! Mum’s right, you really did leave us for another woman. You’ve just split from Mum, and you’re already living with this woman Stacie. I hate you and her!’ But I kept it all
inside my head and just stood, staring at them all angrily.
    We didn’t get told it all at the time, but over the years I have pieced together the fact that Dad had met Stacie, who was about eight years younger than him, at the club, Hollywood, where
he worked on the door. She worked behind the bar, and at some point their relationship had moved from being co-workers and friends to having an affair, and he must have fallen in love with her.
    Of course, from day one I had a real issue with Stacie. In my mind she was the woman who had destroyed my family and hurt my mum, so I was never going to click with her. And I don’t think
she took to me either. Perhaps she knew I was such a mummy’s boy that she would never win me over, so she didn’t bother trying. In the beginning we would have conversations, but they
were always short and awkward. I wasn’t comfortable around her.
    Not that we didn’t have good times when we went to visit Dad – of course we did. After that first visit we would often stay for the whole weekend, so there was time to do loads
more.
    I will never forget these mini motorbikes Dad bought for us. We used to ride them around the back yard of the warehouse where he worked down at the docks. There would always be plenty of other
workers around – mostly men – but they didn’t mind us. They would just say a few nice words and stand and watch us if they were on a break. We were tiny at the time, but I guess
it was Dad’s way of introducing us to motorbikes, as he loved them so much. Whenever he was driving us there and back through the docks in his van, there was one bit where it looked like the
road had dropped away next to us, and he would go really close to it, and pretend he was going to drive us off into the water. We’d be screaming our heads off in the back, genuinely convinced
we might fall off. But then as soon as he veered away, we’d be bravely shouting for him to do it again! Other times he took us to a nearby hill and we would go down it on the bikes. I was in
the Beavers and so he would also take me to the little hut in Tilbury where we had the weekly meetings, and played games, and whatever else it is you do at Beavers!
    Like I said, Dad was always keen for us to go to church, and he kept that up any Sunday we were with him, taking us to St Thomas of Canterbury. And we would also go and visit
our grandparents, who lived nearby.
    Dad’s parents were always very presentable. His dad, Bernard, was always in a shirt and tie, even indoors – I still have a pair of his cufflinks today that he used to wear all the
time. He would never talk rude, or think it was OK to fart or burp in front of a lady. He would hold himself well, and always shake my hand. I don’t ever remember getting a cuddle off him
– it was always a firm handshake, which made me feel very grown-up. He was a real gentleman.
    Dad’s mum was called Margaret,