Mum ended up on the street with three kids! Our dad nicked mums money from selling the flat and did a runner.
Up until she was 38, Mum and Dad just couldnt have kids. The doctors shrugged their shoulders, baffled, with all the bedside manner of a damp tea towel. There was a point where Mum simply gave in to fate, resigned to a life without children. Dad didnt seem all that bothered; hed always say, Dont worry, its nothing. Frankly, I think hed have been just as happy with a big telly and his crossword.
Mum, though, ever hopeful, still found herself praying to the heavens to send her a child. And whether it was divine intervention, the will of fate, or pure dumb luck, along came yours truly.
Mum was over the moon. Dad, on the other hand, was already starting to behave like someone allergic to responsibility, and absolutely panicked every time I cried at night. A year on, and, by some miracle, my twin brothers arrived. Now Mum was singing hallelujah at full volume shed finally got what she dreamed of: she was a mother. As for Dad well, as youve guessed, children were simply not his cup of tea. His solution? Good old-fashioned trickery.
He persuaded Mum to let him sell the flat. We need somewhere bigger, he said. Ill sell this place, buy us something nicer and take a mortgage on the rest. Mum, trusting as ever, agreed. Of course, as soon as Dad got hold of the cash, he vanished. To this day, we havent got the foggiest where he is.
And so Mum was left with three children and nowhere to live. Where were we supposed to go? We moved in with Nana and Grandad. So there we were, four of us squeezed into two rooms with the grandparents. By this point, Mums faith in love and men was at rock bottom. She had to work herself to the bone feeding and clothing three kids is hardly a stroll in Hyde Park.
Anyway, that was life for a while. A few years later, Nana passed away, then Grandad. At least the place was a bit less cramped. One summers afternoon, Mum took us to the park sandpit, swings, the works. Thats when this man, about Mums age, kept approaching her, awkward as anything, wanting to introduce himself. Mum knocked him back at first, but he was as persistent as British drizzle. After plenty more visits to the park, Mum finally caved, gave him her number, and let him take her out for a cuppa.
Two months on, wed moved into a lovely three-bedroom flat with Martin. He became our stepdad. Calling our new childhood happy is like calling the Queens Guards mildly serious. Martin became our dad in every way that counted he celebrated our small wins and offered a shoulder to cry on when things went pear-shaped. Were all grown up now and call him Dad. So, to those who think a woman with kids carries too much baggage nonsense. Theres always a shot at happiness. Our birth father legged it, but our stepdad a true gent stepped up and gave us the family we always wanted.
