Peter.....( TW contains references to controlling and abusive behaviour)
- By girly-d
- On 21/11/2017
- 0 comments
My mum met some idiot men when I was growing up....which is probably why my taste in men also leaves a lot to be desired....but her meeting *Peter was a gamechanger for all of us.
They met when my mum was a barmaid in a working mans club. Peter just happened to be there that day. He bought her a drink and asked her out.
They went out that night. They had a good time...
And that was that. My mum was hooked.
She fell for him about as hard as it is humanly possible to fall for anyone....
And thats how the shittest man in the world moved into our house.
Because Peter was an arsehole.
He got his feet under the table.
Once he realised that my mum thought that the sun shone out of his arse.
He turned up with a van and his suitcase one day when my brother and I were at school, and that was that. We were kind of stuck with him.
Don't get me wrong....we liked him at first. He seemed nice enough. But that lasted about as long as his feigned interest in us coming together as one big happy family. And then the gloves were off.
Because he lied a lot did Peter.
About pretty much everything. He made a lot of promises too. About how he was going to take my brother fishing. Or to the football.
You don't do that. Lie to kids. It's not fair.
Because kids are trusting. They get excited about stuff. Then they get upset when they realise that it's not actually going to happen. And then they never really believe in anything that you promise them ever again.
It's kind of like the day that you find out that Father Christmas isn't real.
It's heartbreaking...because it takes the edge off any future presents you get, knowing in the back of your mind that a fat guy in a red suit didn't really spend half the night looking for your chimney....because he doesn't actually exist. Because someone somewhere thought it would be fun to make up a story.
Anyway, he let my brother down a lot. And I hated him for it.
My brother was grieving. He needed a role model. Someone who could teach him how to do stuff when he was growing up.
Peter was not that role model. He was what you could only describe as being "wrong tool for job".
And I didn't want my brother being taught anything from that man.
Because Peter made my skin crawl. And I never got tired of telling him that.
Mainly when he "just happened" to be in my room.
He never did get to touch me. I wasn't scared of him. He knew that I would scream the house down if he ever laid a finger on me. Sexually or otherwise.
Instead, I avoided him and my crappy little homelife like the plague.
I failed my exams. I went from a straight A student to scraping C's and D's.
But I was kind of past caring about school at that point. I had bigger things to worry about.
Like the black eye my mum was suddenly wearing. The one that she got from walking into the cupboard door.
I knew it was him.
He went for me once in my room....after he'd pulled the duvet off my bed. I ruined his fun by being in my pyjamas. And told him in no uncertain terms that the only way he would ever get to touch me was if I was dead.
He didn't like that.
Because in Peters world he was God's gift. And he liked to share that gift around.
With other women.
My brother and I would see his car parked outside their houses when we were on the bus going to school.
While my mum would be at home. Busy getting the palace fit for the king to return, after yet another hard day at the office.
His day had been hard I'm sure. Just not in the way that my mum would appreciate hearing about.
I know this because I tried to tell her exactly how hard his day was. I didn't bother a second time...she didn't believe me. Like she didn't believe a lot of things. He could do no wrong could Peter....
Even when he left it wasn't his fault.
I made him do it.
He 'didn't like the atmosphere" when I was around.
At least that's what my mum said.
So I came home from school one day and he'd gone.
And I was happy for me and my brother, now that he wasn't around to intimidate and lie to us. But I was genuinely upset for my mum. Because as much as I hated him, I didn't want to see her upset....she loved him. Despite the black eyes he gave her.
But Peter had told a little lie.
He hadn't left because of me at all.
He'd moved in with someone else. A female someone else.
One of the female someone else's where his car would be parked in the mornings....
I know this because I worked with her a couple of years later.
Funnily enough, she had a black eye too.....
**Not his real name