Hidden Intentions, page 1
Hidden Intentions
Dave Flint
For my family and friends
With a special thank you to Helen, for all her help
It all started after the summer school holidays of 1958. Toby knew he was in for trouble when his mum became ill, and he was right. Immediately his life changed until a darker side stirred within him.
He became two people, each one being so different from the other.
Certain people gave him hope and a future, and then there were those who made him do those terrible things.
—
Toby was a good person, really. It was just a case of…
Don’t provoke him!
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Epigraph
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
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67
Epilogue
Copyright
1
The summer holidays were over for what good they had been, and Toby had hated every minute. The last six weeks had left his body with multiple bruises from where his stepfather had struck him. Whenever a task had not been completed the way his stepfather had wanted it, which was more often than not, Toby had born the results of his brutality. His stepfather’s belt stinging him, his fists pummelling his body, and all because he was told he was useless at everything he did. It had been six weeks of hell, and he realised it would never end.
Living on the outskirts of the village of Collinston, a few miles from Portsmouth in Hampshire, Toby felt older than his thirteen years and wished school was over and done with.
Pulling on a colour-faded shirt, Toby winced at the bruise under his armpit. It was changing to a blackish-purple in colour, besides another on his upper arm and cursed his stepfather for the umpteenth time. Stood there in his ill-fitting clothes, Toby wondered what the rest of 1957 had in store for him.
Slouching to the open sash window, Toby looked out over the tree-lined fields leading towards the village of Collinston. Wearily, he looked down at his old bike still in bits leaning haphazardly against the collapsing garden shed, rusting away like most things around the place. Everything in the house was either damaged or broken and needed renewing. Even his bed had a broken leg that was now wedged with different blocks of wood. His stepfather had told him to fix it, but he thought sod it – why should he? He loathed this suffocating life but, as always, it was his stepfather that was causing him all his problems.
Slipping his finger down the dirty windowpane, Toby let his imagination wander before being distracted by his mum as she moved towards the clothesline at the back of the house, struggling with a basket full of wet washing. Suddenly, she looked up and waved, beckoning him to come down. Pushing away from the window, he sat heavily on his bed, wishing he’d stayed there, and realised another chore was coming his way.
Retrieving his socks and plimsolls from under the bed, Toby pulled them on and resentfully left the room. On the landing, he listened to his stepfather curse as a glass smashed and stood still a moment, before making his way steadily and silently downstairs. Stopping just before he got to the bottom two steps, Toby hesitated before carrying on, when his stepfather’s aggressive voice bellowed.
‘That you, Toby?’
Toby wondered if he was coming out to bawl at him as he usually did, and listened to his stepfather curse again as he rattled through some more glasses in the sideboard. The kitchen clock on the wall showed ten past nine. Christ, he’s started early he thought as he carried on warily, ignoring another bellowing call. Pulling open the back door, Toby moved out of the house, making his way along the path, wondering what his mum wanted. Turning the corner, he was greeted by his mother kneeling on the ground with wet washing all around her, clutching at her chest, gasping for breath.
‘Get William – hurry, Toby.’ Her eyes reflected the fear her body felt.
The door banged open against the water-filled sink as Toby ran into the kitchen, heading towards the living room and slammed into his demanding stepfather.
Bang! His stepfather’s calloused hand caught him powerfully across the side of his head, throwing him violently against the tiled fireplace. Toby wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth and tried to speak through a split lip as his stepfather’s legs settled around him.
‘It’s mum; she’s in the garden, she—’
A brutal hand grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, bringing him face to face with bad breath and a scowling intoxicated figure.
‘The next time I speak to you, you answer me. You hear me, boy?’ He shook Toby, throwing him back across the floor. ‘I’ve had enough of your moody ways of late.’
Climbing to his knees, Toby spoke again, ‘It’s Mum, she’s—’
Another clout caught him, landing on the other side of his face as he tried to clear the pain throbbing through his head. This time, Toby shouted at his stepfather as he attempted to make himself heard. ‘Mum’s collapsed in the garden!’
Slowly the stockily built figure took in what was being said. Kicking Toby to the floor, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and headed out of the room, taking his drink with him.
Toby stood up and held onto his face as tears welled, and wiped the blood seeping from his lip as his stepfather ambled unsteadily through the kitchen and out of the house.
Toby spoke as soon as he left. ‘You bastard!’ He never understood why his mum married him, he had told her he was a drunkard, but she insisted he loved her and that they needed a man around the place. And that’s when everything had begun to go wrong in their lives.
Within a few moments, Toby’s stepfather came in and shouted at him from the kitchen.
‘Boy, get out here. Now!’
Holding his face, Toby walked into the kitchen and watched his usually harsh, ill-tempered stepfather wipe perspiration away from his reddened face with the loose material of his vest. He was agitated and shaken.
*
Toby raced through the nearby wood to use the telephone outside the post office in the village to call the emergency services, and by the time he got back home, the ambulance had arrived along with a doctor. Still, the wet washing lay entangled on the ground while the ambulance men knelt around his mum trying to resuscitate her. His stepfather stared at him assertively until eventually, Toby’s mother was stretchered around the house and hastily driven away.
Afterwards, Toby sat at the kitchen table listening as the doctor explained to his stepfather in the living room, that his wife was very poorly and he must be prepared for the worst. Then the doctor offered him a lift to the hospital before leaving the house to wait outside.
His stepfather grabbed his jacket from the back of the kitchen door and turned to Toby. ‘You had better pray your mother comes back to us or your life won’t be worth bleedin’ livin’.’ Then shouted: ‘You hear me, boy? She waited on you hand and foot, you lazy git – I won’t.’ Collecting his cap, his stepfather moved towards the front door before glaring back.
Toby felt the hate-filled eyes sear into him and wished it was his stepfather that had the heart attack.
William seeing an empty glass alongside him, picked it up and aimed it at Toby, just missing him as it smashed into the wall behind him. ‘You might be a big lad for thirteen, and not too bright, but you’ll bloody well do as you’re told in future. Now stay here and pray she pulls through.’
Toby put his head in his hands and leant forward on the table.
From the passageway, William shouted again, ‘I’m talking to you. Do you hear me, boy?’
Staring at each other, Toby rubbed his face where he had been beaten. ‘Yes.’
‘You had bloody better, son, Now clean that up and sort that washing out before I get back.’ The front door slammed shut behind him.
With his head still throbbing, Toby banged his fist down on the table as tears filled his eyes. ‘And I’m NOT your son!’
2
In the house on his own, Toby felt where his stepfather had hit him and kicked the smashed glass across the floor, cursing aloud. Through wet eyes, he aimed his fist into a delusional vision of his stepfather, wishing the worst imaginable upon him. Trudging up the stairs to his bedroom, Toby wiped the tears from his face, not knowing if they were for him or his mother. Sat on his bed, tormented emotions surged i
Remembering that day rushing home from school, a few weeks before his tenth birthday. Opening the back door, Toby had hurried into the kitchen and been transfixed listening to his mum curse and shout – which he had never heard before. That was when his mum had told him what she thought of his dad.
Sat down at the table with her, Toby had been unable to take in what was being said as she had ripped some of his dad’s clothes to pieces. She told him that his dad wouldn’t be coming home anymore as he’d been playing around with a barmaid in the village, which everybody knew about except her. Toby hadn’t known what to do as his head had filled with unsettling thoughts – and his dad never had said goodbye.
Leaving his room, Toby cleaned the kitchen and made his way outside the house. Knowing he had to pick the washing up, or there would be more trouble waiting for him. Walking into the countryside afterwards, he thought about the days when he would bring home a pheasant or rabbit that he’d trapped somewhere. It helped his mum out with meals, seeing as his stepfather was not a very good builder’s labourer and only occasionally managed to get work. Those were the only times when there wouldn’t be a row when he got back, just a nasty comment if he walked in without anything from one of his traps. Ambling along unused pathways, Toby knew his way around the countryside intimately. The wildlife that lived there, and the occasional substantial ancient tree left from centuries past. It was his way to cope with the torments that surrounded him.
*
With his mum still in the hospital, Toby made sure he was ready for school each day, up and dressed well before his stepfather came out of his bedroom. He left with what little food there was in the house, seeing as nobody did any shopping. At school, Toby helped himself from a few packed lunches the other kids had, which developed into easy pickings as he scared the majority of them. Even some of the teachers were becoming wary of him as his recent mood swings were becoming more and more unpredictable. Still, he kept mostly to himself when he could, as he didn’t want too much trouble, especially if it should find its way home to give him more grief.
The evenings at home turned into daunting episodes as Toby tried to keep away from his stepfather. They had hardly spoken except for the curses raged when their paths did cross. Coming home from school after an hour’s detention a few days later, Toby knew something was wrong before reaching the house. The front gate was smashed to bits. The hinges hung twisted, dangling from their uprights with splinters of wood still attached to them.
Toby’s heart quickened, feeling heavy in his chest as he seriously thought something could have happened to his mum. In all the time she had been in hospital, he had not been allowed to see her. Before getting any closer, his stepfather opened the front door and stared at him, his face a mask of scorn and hate.
‘She’s DEAD! You hear me? Dead and gone. She didn’t even open her bleedin’ eyes.’ Bringing a half-empty whisky bottle to his mouth, William took a long swallow, allowing driblets of alcohol to run down onto his stained vest. Things will be different around here now, boy.’ Falling back against the side of the door frame, William grabbed hold of the moving door, just managing to keep his balance before taking another swallow. Pointing menacingly at Toby, he shouted, ‘Get to yer room and stay there yer bastard. I don’t know how I ever got burdened with you.’ He wobbled before going back inside the house, slamming the front door shut.
Watching as the door rattled in its frame, Toby took in everything just said to him and realised that his life would be hell from now on. Walking around the house towards the back garden, he stayed out of sight, knowing it had better stay that way. Sat on the chopped woodpile overlooking the fields and trees, tears filled his eyes as Toby pondered what he should do now, seeing as his life had changed yet again. He thought why, why did all this have to happen?
That evening, after heated words and some physical repercussions, Toby walked outside as the evening darkened, and listened to his stepfather shout and curse from inside the house. Under the starry sky, he leant against the garden wall out of sight, grateful he was outside even though his stomach was making hungry gurgling noises.
Toby slept fitfully in the cluttered shed as the night lingered, not wanting any more confrontations as it would only end with him getting beaten again. Early next morning Toby went into the house looking for food. His stepfather’s legs were protruding from the sofa, and an empty whisky bottle was lying on the floor. Praying he would stay that way, Toby left for school, hungry, tired and full of uncertainty.
3
During the next week, matters were attended to for the funeral. The local priest ended up managing most of the affairs as William kept a bottle close for support. But with the priest coming round, Toby was sent shopping after school, which he did gratefully seeing he was hungry most of the time, and dived into eating some of the food before he got home, knowing he wouldn’t be given enough later.
Toby continued to sleep in the shed along with a supply of provisions he had kept back from his shopping visits. Going into the house during the night, he managed to wash himself the best he could in the kitchen sink, along with some of his clothes, having found the bathroom basin smashed and the bath filthy. With only three shirts and two pairs of trousers, Toby did his best in trying to wash them and hung them to dry away from view. He realised that if his stepfather knew he was coming into the house, it would cause more upset, even though he probably wasn’t washing them right.
Finally, the day of the funeral arrived, Toby put on the cleanest clothes he could find and walked through Blackwater Wood alone to the village church in a profound melancholy mood, while his mum’s cheap coffin was collected and driven to the house. William was given a lift behind the hearse by the priest, who was the only person willing to associate with him as the drink was still readily evident for anyone to see and smell.
The few people at the church noticed how Toby arrived by himself and kept away from William. Like after the service when he mournfully walked off with his hands deep in his pockets and his head down, leaving William breathing over the priest on unsteady legs, and loudly cursing his stepson in his absence.
The following weeks took their toll on Toby as he tried to live back in the house, but after a lot of shouting, punching and threats, along with William slamming into his stepson’s body with whatever he could lay his hands on – the house became a battlefield. Toby’s body darkened from the beatings, with cuts and bruises everywhere. Then one day on arriving home from school, he’d had enough. He slammed the kitchen door on his drunken, argumentative stepfather and walked off into the wood.
At school, his plight was there for anyone to see. The teachers knew things were not right at home by his bedraggled appearance, dirty clothes and body odour. The sorry state of his face had been changing every few days until eventually, he stopped attending class altogether, and the school reported his non-attendance to the authorities.
The visit to the house from the school inspector proved a waste of time with nobody answering the door, and the next one discovered Toby’s stepfather in a drunken stupor, falling all over the place, thoroughly inebriated. Finally, when the police went to the house, they found William half-paralysed with drink, lying in filth that covered the kitchen floor and his clothes soaked in urine.
Toby was discovered by the police in nearby Blackwater Wood after a long search and in need of a good bath having spent many days in isolation there. They questioned him about his cuts and bruises and brought him back home, but looking around the house, they realised why he had left, as there was no way he could be left in the house with his stepfather in his drunken state. After some debate, they asked Toby if there were any relatives that he could go and stay with while they sorted things out, but he just rested his head in his hands and wondered what was happening to his life.
