9a Downes Street
Bridport
Dorset
DT6 3JR
06/11/07
Dear Dad and Barbara
Thank you for your card. I appreciate you have expressed a wish to come down to see Sophie and I, particularly bearing in mind that Christmas is approaching.
I might normally welcome the diversion. However, if I am to explain why I currently have difficulty embracing the request, I have little choice but to enlighten you on some things.
As I relate the following, I ask you to keep a little word in the back of your mind. The word is ‘perspective’ and its meaning will become apparent latter in this letter, when I bring up a secondary point. (See under Other Issues).
Sophie – General
Last year, Jack, Sophie’s ex partner, inherited £25,000. He pledged to her that he really did want their relationship to work, adding that the inheritance money would bring a new stability to her and Grace. He claimed he wanted to ‘start over’ and give them (and himself) the life they deserved.
Sophie was pleased, excited … and looking forward to the fresh new start.
However, within days of Jack moving to Bridport, things went awry.
First, he told Sophie he was going to rent a flat of his own and then … he disappeared for a week or two. It turned out that Jack’s new ‘wealth’ had attracted some new friends. Drug addicts. Heroin users … and a new lesbian friend.
Over the following months, Sophie was brought down emotionally and must have felt bitterly let down. True, she saw Jack occasionally but he would be in a permanent state of drunkenness or in the company of the lowest social groups.
He rarely offered up Sophie’s allowance easily and often Jackie and leonard had to verbally corner him before he begrudgingly gave up £30 a time for maintenance.
Jack, who had previously been violent to Sophie, threatened her, intimidated her and would chastise her if she ever told anyone about his attitude to her.
Sophie – Termination of a baby
A couple of months ago, against her better judgement, Sophie foolishly spent time with Jack again, and fell pregnant. Things are a little confused but … she apparently ended up in Dorchester hospital after some issue of ‘self harm’. (That’s the sanitised word for threatening to take your own life these days).
She was admitted to the Hughes psychiatric unit here in Bridport and, a day or so later, I was informed why.
While staying there, she was escorted to Portsmouth (or Bournemouth) for the termination.
As a father, I was able to chat very candidly about the situation … and was of the opinion that Sophie was quite pragmatic and stoical about ‘losing’ the baby. (I privately cried and lamented the loss of a grand daughter / grandson on the evening she went into hospital but … I felt Sophie had made a right decision … for her).
For a month or so after Sophie came out of the Hughes unit, she was very upbeat, very together … and seemed to have developed a healthy thick skin with regards to her thoughts about Jack.
“You’ve got a good life Sophie”, I reminded her, “You’ve got a beautiful baby, a lovely home … and friends and parents who love you!”
And things seemed ok … until about a month ago.
Sophie – Potential GBH charge
Sophie went out of a Friday night a couple of weeks ago.
She drank … and … she saw the lesbian friend of Jacks in The Ropemakers.
Sophie struck her on the head with a bottle!
Arrested, she spent Friday night and all of satyrday morning in the detention block of Weymouth Police station.
I had to go over that Saturday night to get her bailed. (She has to go back there on 11th of December to find out if she is being charged).
From that day until this, she has been reporting to the Hughes unit daily. (Jackie has had Grace most of the time though I have looked after her on Wednesdays and Fridays).
Funny. Only yesterday I spoke to Helen on the phone … and updated her on these events.
But today? Today, there is more …
Sophie – Jack attacks her Friday night
Jackie popped in today (Thursday). She said, “I’m so sorry Chris … but have you heard?”
Puzzled, I said, “Heard what? Sophie was here yesterday and, while she was acting a little guilty and shifty, I assumed all was well”.
It turns out that Jack went to Sophie’s flat last weekend, (Invited or not, I don’t know).
He tried to smother Sophie with a pillow … and later grabbed Grace out of her cot.
Sophie ran to a friend’s house and called the police. 5 policemen had to break down Sophie’s door to get in to arrest Jack.
On the day I saw Sophie, (Wednesday), I had noticed a sore on her lip but assumed it was a cold sore. I had also asked her, almost as a joke, “Hey Sophie. You haven’t ‘snatched’ Grace from mum, have you?”
(I had thought Jackie was holding onto Grace … at least until Sophie went to find out if she was going to be charged).
“Don’t be daft Dad. Grace is with me”. Sophie had said … (And I had believed all was well).
But … all was not well. Sophie had lied to Jackie when she said the social workers were happy for her to have Grace back.
So … that’s the state of play at the moment.
Other Issues
I understand people care about me. It’s a completely normal human sentiment. However, I have difficulty, particularly at 50 years of age, to be viewed … or be regarded … as being a “worry to my parents”
I appreciate that if I were in a life-threatening crisis, such a ‘concern’ might be justified but …I do not feel that way. Indeed, I do not regard myself like that at all.
Sure, if I were mentally ill or not in control of my actions, it might be acceptable for others to judge or make such an assessment but … I respectfully ask that I, rather than others, gauge my place in this world.
Yes … by some standards, according to some onlookers, my life might appear dull, empty, unconventional even … and yes, materially, I am a poor man but …
As I alluded to in my opening comments, I ask others to put things into ‘perspective’.
Some facts.
My diet is poor … unimaginative even … but I fill my belly, and believe me, food has always been no more than fuel I take on board in order to keep myself alive.
My income and financial affairs?
Dire. Frugal … and it is true, I have bailiffs and other third parties stacked up in my airspace all keen to gain some permission to alight on my potholed runway! Such affairs, or an ability to resolve such affairs revolve around truly modest sums of money but … they concern me enough to keep my sash windows shut … even in the heat of summer … just to ensure some thick necked ‘enforcer’ doesn’t pop his head through the portal to utter…. “Mr Goodland. Have you a moment?”
And yeah, I admit, whatever happened to me between 1999 and the present day has had some lingering psychological effect … to the point where I find it nigh on impossible to contemplate some regular, basic job.
Now is not the time to delve into that particular avenue but, suffice to say, I have never truly recovered from having those bastard Fowlers scupper the 5 years of work I put into, what was supposed to be, a fabulous future for myself, my family and my business.
I have a neat survival instinct though … and it’s a simple one! I’ll reveal it in just a mo.
Health?
Outwardly, I’m a fine specimen! I have my own hair, most of my teeth and a pretty good body … for a middle aged man! In fact, in the company of peers I pass as a youngster … if looks and body mass were brought into play.
Mental health … and my demeanour in general?
I regard both as my greatest achievements … by far.
It’s no secret to recall the dark skies of my recent path or to admit that I buckled under the strain of events that I felt had careered beyond my control but … now … with hindsight, I would have it no other way.
I could elaborate. Instead, I implore you to read a book by Herman Hesse. It’s called Siddartha and it eloquently describes a journey I can fervently relate to.
True. I am offering you a quizzical hint of how I feel about life … and my role within it but … if I add that the story is actually a simple, though poignant, tale about self-discovery, I think you would eventually understand.
And that lesson, that experience, survives within me … and will do so forever.
The neat survival technique I mentioned a moment ago?
It’s a simple one.
NOTHING is more important than having genuine peace of mind. NOTHING is more valuable than being able to wake up in the morning with that simple sense intact.
And if we have to worry about stuff … then make sure it is
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