We spent Christmas up at the farm along with C’s grandmother from the UK. We had some lovely times in the pool and relaxing. D and Sue were both upset that they were not offered an opportunity to go to church on Christmas Day. Mum and dad had not been to Mass in years, it did not occur to them but they would have taken them if they had asked.
There was an undertone of sadness due to what I had experienced in November, naturally. My uncles and aunts gave me the biggest hugs when they came over. My uncle who rarely cried did so and asked me if I was okay.
My brother was working in the mines and having a very good social life. We did not see much of him though he loved having us in the house. Dad worked through most of the holiday period so we did not see a lot of him.
After a week we went back home to Sydney and life went back to normal. Off the horrid medications our little boy was much brighter. He was having a horrendous amount of jerks but happy with it. He love Sesame Street and Playschool and his cartoon videos.
Grandma also knitted him every toy under the sun. He especially loved his monkey, Dum Dum and his Humpty Dumpty. Her scarecrow was a work of art, it had tiny tiny lady birds on it as well as birds. Everyone was stunned at mum’s skills.
Sue went back to the UK but the night before D had the most vicious talk with her. He harangued her and said the most awful things. She was crying and crying and in the end I came in and turned my back on him, put my arms around her and said that is enough. Stop it. This is your mother, crying inconsolably, what is wrong with you? He just shrugged.
I walked her into her bedroom and helped her onto the bed and got her a cup of tea and some biscuits. I had never seen such cruelty before. He said she thought God took his father so that he would not worry the way she had about him and the strange travels he had undertaken before I met him. She believed it totally and would not retract it so he hounded her to do so.
The next day she returned to the UK, the night before making peace with her son, as she always did. She would never go to bed angry, it was a fundamental part of her nature, true forgiveness.
I was having a lot of pain in my right wrist so was not knitting as much as usual. I was sent to a Hand Surgeon who arranged surgery ASAP for Carpel Tunnel Syndrome. I went into the Private Jewish Hospital in Bondi Junction where the surgery was not as straight forward as they thought it would be. They were decompressing the arteries on both sides of my hand and was told it would be almost instant relief. Whereas I woke up in agony. My arm was raised and bandaged and it was swollen to twice its size.
The surgeon came around and in front of me said “fuck I should have checked her neck” to the nursing sister. That did not fill me with confidence. I was also really missing my baby, then when he came in his right hand too was bandaged up. He had it clasped against his chest and he would not let it go, even for a big hug with mummy.
His father told me they were playing in the park when he fell on some glass. He said he put him in the stroller and ran him down to the Children’s hospital with him bleeding all the way. Our doctor was a lot closer but he panicked.
Once at the hospital they stitched the deep circular cut. His father thought it amusing that C was so distressed he kicked his firmly strapped on sandals completely off. And then would not let anyone near him.
So I went home to a toddler who was suspicious of us both if we came near his hand. Eventually he did let me change his dressing and bandage it. Perhaps seeing mine bandaged too helped.
During this time the case for the insurance payout was going through for when D was hit by the car in 1983. It was a considerable amount of money and he asked me to move back to the UK and be near his family for support for C. He was extremely annoyed with my family for not helping us more, though dad was not yet retired and my mum was needed on the farm. He could never understand that people could not just forget about their jobs and take off.
He promised me that we would be warm and looked after. And I would have my own bank account and money. I was very torn as I had been going to the High Church since the Termination. His mum had liked it there too and we went together while she was out here. They were currently asking for a young family to be Verger’s and I was very keen for us to apply. He said that is something we could do in the UK as there were a lot more churches so more need for Vergers.
So once I agreed we had to tell my parents, which was very very hard. And the rest of my family. We packed our things and shipped them, the place we were in was rented furnished so we only had personal items and toys etc to send ahead. Soon it was time to say goodbye to my parents and aunts and uncles and we caught the train back down to Sydney. There we said goodbye to my sister and K and my friends including my lovely neighbour, a mum across the road from us. We had met earlier the previous year. She had helped me so much and I also looked after her little girl, born on the same day as C. My husband did not like our friendship, she was a nursing sister and was wanting to get me work with her in a care home. She was not happy about my being so dependent on D. Sue had liked her a lot when she met her on our usual morning tea get togethers.
My brother had not been at the farm when we were up there and the night before we left he drove down to say goodbye. I was quietly distraught, seeing my young brother for possibly the last time. He loved our flat and said it suited us and if only he and my parents had been able to come down more things might have been different.
Eventually he had to go back for work in the morning and we settled in for our last night in Australia. We had the name of a good specialist in London from Dr Johnston and Professor Wise. Sue was meeting us at Heathrow. Everything was in place for us to start our new lives.
Life seemed very good, though I had a feeling of dread I just could not shake. It was not helped by the fact I still could not get up out of chairs and the bed without great difficulty. It was like something was holding me down, my legs just could not do it. I had to pull myself up and usually stay upright. My friend K visited regularly at weekends, she was at Wollongong Uni and looked forwards to time away. My GP was concerned that my blood pressure was still dangerously high so started me on antihypertensives. I breastfed until then but had trouble after that with C crying, not settling and generally seeming very hungry.
My mum was staying with us for a while to help and said that he was hungry. She encouraged me to try him on Carnation milk as a supplement over the weekend, until I could see the Baby Health Clinic in Clovelly. C definitely needed something apart from the breast as he downed the bottles of milk. I was concerned though about nutrition etc so asked the clinic about a formula and they recommended Lactogen.
Within days he was projectile vomiting, with terrible diarrhoea and screaming, going puce in the face and pulling his legs up to his tummy. The Clinic was no use at all so A, my nursing school friend, ran a test on his nappy and it came up positive for Lactogen Intolerance. On the same day I was with him at the GPs, a lovely English chap with two young children who had replaced David Bennett when he left. He heard C screaming and screaming and said this child is hungry. He went out to his back room and gave me six tins of Soy Milk and said try it straight away and phone him to let him know how he went. As soon as I got home I prepared the bottle and C never looked back. It smelled and tasted disgusting but it is what he wanted and needed. No more upset tummy or vomiting. Bliss.
Mum had returned home as her back was not good and the spare bed in our rented flat was shocking, an old wire spring one which sagged in the middle. She packed very quickly once I asked her if she wanted to leave, got a taxi at the end of our road, desperate to get home to the farm. It had been lovely having her but she always found it hard to be away from her home. She had loved finally meeting the neighbours who were very fond of C and had been a great help to me.
We caught the train and buses north to my parent’s beach house in Noraville once a month. We had a lot of fun at the beach there in Noraville, mum and dad met us there and had a great time with their first grandchild. My husband was a bit strange on one visit, dirty and dishevelled. He was washing up one day and I came behind him to help him dry up and he jackknifed back with his elbow, catching me on the bridge of the nose. I started laughing hysterically, as I tend to do when I am hurt or something is hurting me. I used the tea towel to stench the bleeding. He was very sorry and apologetic but said I should not have come up behind him like that. I iced my face and when mum and dad arrived laughed it off as an accident. Dad looked a bit perplexed though.
Other times we took him to the farm where we saw relatives and C was spoiled by his grandma and grandad. Mum got up with C and fed him to give me a rest and got up with him in the morning. She was in her element and always had been a natural with babies. My sister P also visited us there.
C had been born with swollen black eyes, due we thought to the traumatic birth. It took many weeks before the swelling went down and when it did his right eye was sticking out. We were a bit silly and as he had a Popeye doll we nicknamed him Popeye. After a week or so I became concerned though and took him up to the GP. He rang a friend of his, Dr Gregory Roberts, an eye surgeon in Bondi Junction who asked me to go up there immediately.
A really lovely chap, he diagnosed C with a Proptosis and said it was he believed Neurological, but suggested taking him to the Sydney Eye Hospital to be examined by experts. They saw him within a week, he was photographed for record purposes and I was told to get him into a Paediatric Neurologist ASAP.
I telephoned A and she said she would see what she could do at work and on the way home I stopped at Dr Ian Gregory Robert’s and he said he had suspected as much. He asked me into his office and told me his daughter had Hydrocephalus as a baby and he could not recommend Dr Heather Johnston at The Prince Of Wales Children’s Hospital highly enough. He phoned her immediately and she arranged to see C in Casualty straight away. I thanked Dr Gregory Roberts and caught a bus to Randwick to get C to Casualty.
I saw the senior nurse who worked with A as I walked in and she said she would go let A know we were there as she had been talking to all the specialists. We were called in to see Dr Johnston who said C needed a skull X-ray and a CT scan ASAP. These were done and about thirty minutes later I was called from the waiting room to see Dr Johnston. She said C had an asymmetrical brain. Slightly bigger on the right. The proptosis was also on the right. He had a larger eye socket on the right as well. She said the Radiographers disagreed however the Professor of Neurology and herself and their team over ruled and suggested the most likely condition was Neurofibromatosis. When I asked what that was the registrar with Dr Johnston asked me if I had seen the Elephant Man film. Dr Johnston glared at him for being so callous but the damage was done. I looked at my beautiful baby boy with horror and started shaking.
Dr Johnson arranged for us to be seen in a clinic soon and I took C in his stroller up to see A where she worked in Outpatients. She came up to me and said she had been selling her soul to Professor Wise who had agreed to see my baby boy ASAP. She said Dr Johnston was very good and that they worked together anyway. She seemed to be talking to me from a distance, I said I had to get home, no reason, I just had to go. She hugged me and said she would come around later. I walked back home, a forty minute walk but I needed to clear my mind. I just plodded on, not aware of anything really. Except sickening dread, and pain.
When I got home D was waiting for me, he said A had rung him and said I was in severe shock. I sat down and explained things to him, again and again. He could not take it in. I picked C up from his stroller and rocked him, wondering at his perfect little face, except for his eye sticking out grotesquely. And his bruising on his eyes.
After that C was measured, weighed and examined carefully at the clinic, we were examined for Cafe Au Lait spots, his father having several. He was very upset and embarrassed that the registrar got him to pull his pants down to check his buttocks for marks or growths. He also became very distant, quiet and cold.
During that awful week friends and C’s Aunt P visited as did Great Aunt Jean from Adelaide as it was the week before Christmas. Life seemed to go on. Even though on 23/12/84 it seemed to stop, for me anyway. The next day on Christmas Eve we attended the Midnight Service at St Andrew’s Cathedral in the city. There was a TV crew there and they zoomed in on the seemingly idyllic mother and infant, not knowing that the serenity they saw was being held in place by sheer willpower, so that I would not break down and cry.
When we arrived back in Sydney we stayed in a lovely bed and Breakfast in Edgecliff Road, Bondi Junction. My husband had stayed there when he first arrived in Australia. My friend K came around almost straight away and then my sister. We soon rented a flat in Randwick, to move in within the next few weeks. After that we excitedly hopped on a train up to my parents farm.
We were met at the station by my brother D and my cousin R and mum and dad. Dad was very happy and squeezed me really hard. Mum cried. After that we stayed for several days, catching up and introducing D to my aunt E and uncle P. Mum’s other brother and his wife were on holiday in the UK. Everything went very well except dad kept telling me off for leaving D out of things. Pot calling kettle black I thought!
I booked in to see my Professor at the Royal Women’s Hospital Paddington at the Ante Natal Clinic. He was a bit concerned about the Campylobactor and my blood pressure was a bit high so he booked me into the clinic weekly. Meantime I caught up with my friends, and D went out a lot with his Pentecostal church friends. We started going to an Anglican Church a short walk away. At the weekends we walked in Centennial Park, always the same route. Other weekends we caught the train up to the farm.
D started back at his old job with IBM though he was warned the job was only for six months as they were relocating to another area and would no longer need unskilled workers to enter data. It was becoming an increasingly highly skilled field to work in and I encouraged him to get some extra training, to no avail.
Mid August at my checkup I was told I had dangerously high blood pressure, Pre Eclampsia in fact. They let me go home to collect some things and told me to come in on Monday for bed rest. That weekend my parents made a very rare trip down to Sydney to see us and also my sister. Mum saw straight away what was going on, I had retained so much fluid that it was obvious to her. She was smiling and seemed okay with us but when we went over to my sisters with her she took my sister aside and was very worried.
I had bought myself a dressing gown from a shop in Bondi Junction on the Friday afternoon as I did not have a decent lightweight one to fit me, being eight months pregnant. D was furious with me for taking money out of the account. I had no money of my own and had to rely on money I saved from the housekeeping. He was very strict with the money. It was his, not ours and with the Pre Eclampsia I could not work.
Once I settled into the hospital I stayed stable, though the swelling became worse. D would visit me every evening after work and we would play scrabble with the board he had brought in. We also played cards. The other ladies were bemused as we were the only ones that played games. It was a good way to pass the time and did not require a lot of conversation.
There was a lovely lady across from me whose last baby had died in utero and had to be delivered. She was on bed rest for most of this pregnancy. My friend A from school who visited me every few days got on very well with everyone. She would chat to everyone and knew their medical histories and why they were there. I was so proud of her.
My parents never came down, they rang every evening and I started to get frustrated because I was supposed to be bright and cheery and keep mum on an even keel. But I was the patient! After about three weeks when they rang the lady opposite grabbed the phone and told them I was not very well and needed my parents support. Nothing changed.
One morning, after a very bad night the staff said my blood pressure was just too high. They arranged an enema and I was very dizzy and for some reason the liquid from the enema ran out all over the floor and I fell over, nobody noticed so I managed to get off the floor and I cleaned up the mess with a towel. Then I cleaned myself and rang my husband and A who arranged to come over after she finished her shift at POWCH. She was also a maternity nurse and had been involved in lots of births so I was happy she would be there as my support person. Especially since my husband was a little squeamish and not much involved in the antenatal care etc.
I was transferred down to the maternity delivery area and very quickly induced by my waters being broken with something I described as a knitting needle being shoved up my vagina. And I love knitting. In fact I was totally obsessed with knitting back then! A told later that it was more like a crochet hook!
All the nurses who worked with my friend, I had got to know very well over lunches in their staff room, had agreed with her that nothing would be happening as it was a first birth and was going to take a while. She did not make it in time because unfortunately when they put the drip in which causes the contractions I think someone must have sped it up by accident. It was going very fast. Within thirty minutes I had horrid backache. Was not dilated enough though so the nurses and Prof and Dr took off. It was an unusual day with a high volume of births. There were women in the corridors giving birth.
I had trouble with my bowels, poo came out repeatedly with contractions, my husband was horrified and kept going on about it. I was crying and saying it was happening again. And again. The lovely nurses reassured me it was fine and cleaned me up. An hour or so later our son was born. And almost strangled to death. The only help we had was early on. After I was given gas (which did not agree with me) and then an injection, the only person to help us was a young med student who had never witnessed a birth before. Luckily he was there and he managed to hold onto our son as my husband ran to get help.
They managed to get his cord from around his neck. It was very hard to hold for so long without pushing. His head was literally out and I had to stop pushing. Not sure how I did it but I was so exhausted that I could not grasp him afterward. I was dazed and very very dizzy. Nobody checked my blood pressure then. My sister arrived swiftly followed by A who was disappointed and concerned at how rapid the birth had been. Three and a half hours is too rapid for a first birth.
Meantime I was cleaned up and examined by a lovely male midwife, who said I had not torn but had deep deep scratches all the way down my vagina. He said they were going to sting, badly. He then became concerned that I could not void, so a catheter was inserted. I was then transferred down to a ward with other new mothers and within a few hours my parents had come down, very very excited. Their first grandchild. Dad was stunned that D was there for the delivery and he kept asking me if I was all right.
I had a few issues, mostly with trying to get out of chairs. My legs would not let me get up unless I held onto something to pull myself up so I mostly laid down or stood or walked.
After a few days we were discharged and we went home, on our first wedding anniversary.
I stayed home in Noraville for a few weeks then applied for various nannying positions with families in Sydney. I interviewed with several and decided on a lovely family with three boys under five years of age. The interview was held in Centrepoint Shopping Centre in Sydney CBD as the parents had two fabulous clothing stores there, Shim and Shives. I met the parents there as they had an incredibly busy career and I was offered the job on the spot. The father Des was a little concerned by my youth but the mum Daphne and I hit it off straight away. She intuited I was more mature than my years and knew I had a younger brother who I had half brought up. I really landed on my feet with this position. My recent nursing experience and background in working with children also helped. My sister picked me up at Central Station and dropped me off after introducing herself to the family. My mum had been in touch with her and asked her to look out for me.
They lived out at Dover Heights in a massive art deco mansion complete with outdoor pool and a converted ballroom which was used as a games room. They also had three boxer dogs, a mother dog and two bitches. Unfortunately these gorgeous dogs became a pack when anyone unknown approached the fence let alone the door. When my sister and I arrived Des had locked the dogs securely in the ballroom. I was introduced to the three most gorgeous boys, under five years of age. Stunning looking in the English way with blondest of hair and blue eyes. Totally different in personality. The oldest Justin a sweet caring boy already at Preschool three days a week. Jake the eighteen month old a bundle of mischief and delight. And Jackson, a gorgeous little boy of nine months, a treasure.
I was given a room downstairs and had the run of the house. They were an ultra modern family, really ahead of their time. Des was totally supportive of Daphne who was a feminist. Though he did not do housework etc. Then again Daphne did not do any either. They employed cleaners from a top agency. I cooked the children’s dinner for five pm, they were already bathed and had usually almost finished their food when their parents arrived home at 5.30 every night but Thursday’s, which was late night shopping. Everyone had finished eating but Jake who just loved to try me on over his vegetables. I adored them all but he was so mischievous that I had a special place for him in my heart.
After a little while the agency sent out a young English single mum named Lesley to clean the house. We got on so well immediately that Daphne arranged for her to look after the two youngest on Thursday mornings so I could go shopping. I loved it, catching the double decker bus to Bondi Junction, going into Myer which was amazing compared to the Waltons Store where I had shopped in Gosford. There were lots of boutiques and Italian style coffee lounges. The Mall had not been built yet and it had a wonderfully eclectic atmosphere. Sometimes I took the baby Jackson with me, he was as good as gold and loved bus trips. The bus conductors were really helpful too in getting the strollers off the buses. It was so much fun and so different to anything I had experienced before. I gradually built up a nice wardrobe of accessories from Bondi Junction to match the wonderfully huge camel kid leather shoulder tote bag Daphne and Des gave me as a thank you for the extra babysitting I did once a month so they could go gambling in Double Bay.
In a matter of weeks Lesley and I became firm friends. It was approaching winter and Daphne and Des needed extra sewers to hand sew the leather buttons on their amazing range of kid leather jackets and coats. I asked them if Lesley could come over to dinner with her little boy and Daphne and Des immediately loved her and offered her a substantial amount of extra cash to sew these buttons on in her spare time. I used to go over to her place one night a week and help her with her backlog, sewing being my forte!
While working there I used to go home to Noraville on Saturday afternoons on the train and get the 4.30am train back Monday morning. I was young and fit enough to do it though it was starting to get really cold at that time of the day. Daphne and Des surprised me with a beautiful camel coloured, fitted to the body, three quarter length kid leather coat. The coat matched the tote bag they had given me and was way nicer than the one I had in London in 1970, I still had that but it was heavy and hurt my shoulders. I eventually kept the old suede one at Noraville to use there if a friend suddenly needed a jacket.
Lesley and her son came up one long weekend to stay in Noraville. Her son was a similar age to my young brother and got on brilliantly with him. While mum looked after the children I took Lesley to Budgewoi Pub and from there we went to a friends house where everyone sat around and smoked dope. She kindly said no thanks but go ahead and I was really impressed at how she communicated with all the surfers there. They were mostly from Sydney, some I had known for years who were locals and most were famously reticent. She had them eating out of her hand. Unlike me, who was even shyer with chaps now, or wary would be a better word. Some of the guys were the Sydney surfers who rented a house just down from us and I regularly baked them cookies on a Saturday evening and dropped them around to them. They were famous for their marijuana munchies. And their sweet tooth.
The boys gave us a lift home and everyone was fast asleep. Lesley shared the spare room double bed with her little boy and I had my old bed in my lilac and white bedroom. The next days over breakfast Lesley chatted to dad and afterwards Denise Lethbridge came up and took both boys out on the trail bike and we all had a very relaxed time. It was the first time I really noticed dad so accepting of my friends. Mum enjoyed cooking her fabulous roast meals and my aunts and uncles came over with the cousins. First time in a long time there was no shadow, no feeling of dread or fear there with dad. Lesley actually said your dad is lovely, he just seems starved of communication that is all. I thought about that and realised I had always chatted away to him, until the teen years, when the trouble with my sister started. So I tried to include him in things more and he seemed to be much more relaxed too.
Once we got back to Sydney Lesley’s boyfriend who had dumped her at Circular Quay when they arrived on the ship months before suddenly showed up. I babysat so that they could talk and have some privacy which was not possible in her one bedroom flat at Bondi Beach. He was living at Surfers Paradise and wanted her to move up there with her son to be with him. She decided to stay in Sydney to save money to make a new start there. When we had our regular weekly dinner at Daphne and Des’ we explained this to them and they immediately offered her training as a pattern cutter in their Bondi factory. She proved to be brilliant at this and eventually took over all aspects of the work.
The dinners were fun and spun off my use of my old basic Home Science Commonsense Cookbook from year one in high school. One day after a few weeks of living there I had decided to cook a few meals for us adults and I tried the fruity lamb curry recipe in it. Des came over and tried a spoonful and exclaimed it was a traditional Indian dry sweet curry and delicious. Restaurant quality! So I made Cornish Pasties and many other dishes for us to savour. I bought new cookbooks from Myer Bondi Junction and tried recipes, it was fun and as the children always went to play with their parents once they returned from work I was free to indulge my creativity in the kitchen. We also had takeaway on Friday nights and I was included in family outings to restaurants if I happened to stay in Sydney for the odd weekend.
I was so happy there, I adored the boys and Daphne was fabulous, although I was very wary of Des, not frightened but kept him at arm’s length. No hugging etc and I did not like being alone in the house with him, or his good looking brother who stayed for a few months as was recently divorced. Obviously a reaction to my rape and it’s aftermath though I did not consciously think of what had happened in that house in Gosford.
My friend Linda left Gosford Hospital a few months after me as did all the people who had shared our house. Ann had been sent down to Royal North Shore Hospital for investigation into severe headaches. I spoke to her often on the phone. She returned home after a few days of intensive testing. My sister came over to visit a few times and let us down a lot too by not turning up when she said she was going to. It pissed me off that she disappointed the children.
Over winter the boys had a lot of colds and bugs. Dr David Bennett had started working out of Bondi Junction and he made regular house calls as he could see I could not get all three children to him when they were ill as I did not drive. He had a problem with the dogs. He asked that they were well secured before he came out and no wonder he was nervous. They used to throw themselves in a pack at the glass doors between the ballroom and the sitting room. Dr Bennett felt I was very isolated and had too much responsibility and would stay for a cup of tea and my homemade cake and a chat. When I needed my Pill script I would go in to see him in his rooms in Bronte Road, Bondi Junction.
Lots of reps gave samples of clothing to Daphne and Des, we all had some nice things but especially the boys. There was a knitwear company that made miniature versions of their high fashion sweaters for the boys. Three sweaters in the same shades of blue but different styles. Just gorgeous. The only time I had real trouble clothing wise was when Des suddenly bought tickets to go to Cairns for all of us. I only had a few summery things with me as had taken my summer clothes back to Noraville. The ones I had not thrown out that is. My tastes changed once I lived in Sydney and I did not have my sewing machine with me to make my new summer wardrobe yet.
Once we were in Cairns Daphne loaned me a short sleeved top and I bought some blouses to wear. It was very hot in the hotel rooms of the family suite so we kept the doors open and while the parents partied downstairs I read while watching the children. We went exploring the region for several days, finding it very beautiful but my overwhelming memory was of the humidity.
Back in Dover Heights it eventually became warmer and the boys had swimming lessons in their huge pool. The instructor was great with them and they really enjoyed themselves. We went down to Bondi Beach a lot as summer approached and met Lesley and her son down there. Eventually though she moved up north to join her boyfriend. We did not feel good about it however as his family who were wealthy disapproved of her. It is why he left her in the first place.
I took Justin the four year old up to Noraville several times. He loved it. Daphne was estranged from her father who lived nearby in Wyong but the whole family picked Justin and I up the first time Justin stayed with us. It was his first sleepiver! Mum loved cuddling Jackson and was quite tearful as she would have loved more children. Unfortunately she had a lot of heavy bleeding and was diagnosed with fibroids. After having a D and C it was advised she have a hysterectomy.
My sister insisted that as she had looked after dad and my brother a few years before when mum had her gallbladder out, that it was my turn now. I did not know how to bring it up with Daphne. I was so upset, I adored the boys and every aspect of my job. It had long term implications for retraining in the garment trade or in fashion and retail. But I had an obligation to look after mum. It was expected that the daughters do these things. It was never ever considered that dad would take time off to do this. We were supposed to look after him. One of the issues for mum was the split level nature of the Noraville house. The laundry was downstairs and it would be months before she could lift washing etc.
Eventually after about five days I brought it up and Daphne said she knew something was wrong. She said no problem, come back when you are able to leave your mum. And meantime they would book the world trip they had been talking about for six months time which should be plenty of time for me to have helped mum back to health again. And I was coming along with them!
I packed and tried not to cry as I said my goodbyes a week later. I loved them so much, even Des, whose weird brash sense of humour had grown on me. Even loved the dogs, though individually, not as a pack.