When I was ten, my dad decided that matrimony deserved a second shot and got remarried. My new stepmother quickly became pregnant and produced a bouncing baby boy. This, by some strange twist of fate, turned me into the household’s unpaid nanny, chef, and cleaning ladyall roles I neither auditioned for, nor wanted.
Within our happy little family, my actual name was apparently too much to bother withthey just called me Oi, you! My clothes, if you could call them mine, had been on the short side for years, but my little brother seemed to receive a fresh toy every two days as if by magic. Eventually, I lost even the luxury of my own bedroom; it was ceremoniously handed over to my brother, while I was banished to the living room.
About the only commendable thing my dad ever did was to instantly shut down my stepmothers attempts at physical punishment. Emotional humiliation, however, was apparently part of the curriculum. Every day, Id hear that I was uglyunlovable, in factand, if my stepmother was truly on form, that I was destined for a future as a cleaner because I was far too dim for proper education.
Daily reminders from my stepmum that I was only tolerated in her house until I turned eighteen became something of a tradition. She assured me that, come my birthday, Id be ejected into the street like an old pair of trainers.
School holidays were spent at my grandmothers house, where, to my delight, I was celebrated as the black sheep of the family. She cursed the day her son had married my mum, and lived for the moment my mum left the scene.
I often wondered why they hadnt just sent me to an orphanage and saved everyone the hassle.
Six months before my eighteenth birthday, I overheard a conversation that cast everything into a painfully clear light. My stepmum declared Id never agree, and my dad assured her that hed convince me to sign over my flat (the one Id inherited from my actual mum). She needn’t worry, apparently.
He was quite mistaken. If anyone had reason to worry, it was my stepmother. Suddenly, the prolonged taunts and jabs from my dear little brother didnt bother me in the slightest.
Where Id once dreaded turning eighteen, now I couldnt wait.
My birthday was celebrated in grand style: tea and a rare appearance of cake graced the table for the first time in eight years. The whole cast was there: Dad, Stepmum, Granny, plus my stepmums parents.
After the cake carnage, I was told to get ready to leave. I asked where, and Granny, ever the wise sage, replied with her best royal tone:
Youre an adult now. From today, youre responsible for your own actions. Today, you thank your family for everything theyve done for you. Now youll go with your father to the solicitor and give him your flat. You inherited it from your mother, but she was supposed to leave it to my son. Now youll do your duty and prepare yourself.
Their faces were so grim I could barely keep a straight face, let alone stop myself laughing.
Indeed, Gran. I shall thank the family properly for all theyve done for me. As my gesture, I wont turf you out todayIll give you all a week to pack up. Your free ride is over.
Well. That started quite a spectacle. I was labelled an ungrateful wretch, my stepmum shrieked that shed raised a viper, Dad landed a punch to my face, and my step-grands declared theyd warned her about what to expect from other peoples offspring. Granny stormed off, slamming the door for dramatic effect.
They packed up and moved in with Granny.
A few days later, Dad turns up. He hands me a bit of paper and tells me, since I havent given him the flat, I owe him and must repay this debt. Then he promptly leaves.
On the paper was a meticulous list:
Food £4,725
Clothes £787
School supplies £204
Toiletries £39
Electronics £68
Council flat deduction £945
Total: £6,768
Apparently, the whole parents are legally bound to support their minor children rule had flown straight over my fathers head.
I took a job and, for the next six months, handed a third of my wages to my dad every month to chip away at this debt.
If my maths is correct, Ill be paying this off for another seven or eight years. And only thenat lastwill I really, truly be free.
