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By Root 321 0

his old friends there as well. I’d been keeping my eyes open for people. I had Barry who put us up in his dad’s garage and a few others – some of the beach crowd, people from school. Afterwards, we went for a walk on the seafront with Oona, and Richard took us out for a meal. I was feeling a bit jittery by then but I put it down to all the excitement and not seeing him for so long. I thought it was maybe because I was a bit fishy about the junk. I’d said he had to be clean before he came to live with us and he was, but only by being locked up. But… you gotta give him a chance. He knew – first whiff of junk – out you go.

In the evening we went out for a few drinks with Richard and Vonny, while this friend of mine babysat. Down my local. It was a Wednesday night so it was quiet. Tar looked exhausted, totally exhausted.

Vonny said, ‘Do you want to go back?’

‘I’m all right.’

Richard said, ‘I’m feeling a bit tired myself,’ and got up, which was his way of giving Tar a way out.

I put Richard and Vonny in the baby’s room. Well, she doesn’t sleep there yet, she sleeps in her cot next to my bed. Then we went to bed.

I felt really weird about it. I mean, I hadn’t done it for so long.

We both hopped into bed starkers – it was all very exciting. Then he kissed me and stroked me and touched me and I just went… aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…

It was horrible. I just… I did not want to be there with him. I didn’t want him to touch me or lie on top of me or next to me, I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. It was awful. I couldn’t believe it. I’d been looking forward to him for so long and missing him and loving him and then as soon as he touches me I feel like I can’t stand him touching me.

I must have stiffened up. He said, ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yeah, I’m all right, I’m all right, I’m all right,’ I said. I tried to relax and get into it and that was horrible too because I had to put on an act. I mean, I’ve done that before… But this was Tar.

I didn’t know what to do. I mean, I’d been waiting there; the house, Oona, me, all safe and waiting for him, no more junk, nice little family, everything’s going to be great. And he’s my Tar and he’s taken the rap for me twice, and he’s been through all this shit… the detox, youth custody, all for me, and he’d probably never even have become a junkie if it wasn’t for me-and then… bang!

We did it in the end. It wasn’t easy. I was so shocked I was as dry as yer dad’s handkerchief, but I managed to concentrate and get down to it, and it was all right in the end. I told him I was just nervous. I don’t know if he believed me.

I waited until he looked like he was asleep, then I picked up Oona and crept out of the room. I just had to have a little space and try to think. What does it mean? What on earth does it mean?

I was sitting out there for ages. I must have drunk about a gallon of tea. Then to make it even worse, he came out to see if I was okay. He couldn’t sleep either. I tried to make out I was just upset and nervous. It seemed reasonable enough. He sat next to me and we had a cuddle. I just tried to think of him as my Tar, my little boy who’d had a really hard time and needed to be comforted, and that made it all right.

I told my mum about it. She was good. It’s been quite a shock to find I can talk to my mum. Dad’s… well, I don’t think anyone manages to talk to him about that sort of thing, not even Mum. But Mum’s not bad. She said, ‘Give it six months.’ She knows we’ve been through all this stuff together; she’d like to see us split up, I expect. But she lets me make my own mind up. Tar’s the father – I suppose that makes a big difference in her book.

Six months. I really, really hope it gets better. It’s just not fair, is it? I end up with the life: he ends up with nothing. It ought to work, oughtn’t it? It ought to work.

He’s doing really well. He wants to go to art college, but he needs to get the O-levels and A-levels first. He’s going to start at the Tech College, but that doesn’t begin till the autumn and it’s only May, so he’s doing night school in the meantime.