Read Online Handstands In The Dark: A True Story of Growing Up and Survival by Janey Godley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Janey Godley
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hit an adult and you hit a child! You hit my daughter and she has a witness!’
With that, Mammy turned on her heels, grabbed me by the hand and marched out of the school leaving everyone in the office in a state of shock. The police were never called. The girl whose cash had been ‘stolen’ admitted she spent the money on food because she was hungry and the headmistress told everyone at our school assembly that there had been no theft. I sat smugly as I was vindicated and my Mammy became a legend at Eastbank Academy. The aftermath was that the headmistress and my Mammy had another meeting. My Mammy came out and told me:
‘Look, she’s accepted that you never stole the money, but you dodged a class and I punched that cow, so you’re going to have to take six of the belt.’
I was given six lashes with a leather strap on my right hand and the headmistress looked like a crazed animal when she was hitting me. Even the assistant head, who was present, looked unsettled when he saw her eyes. I stood there, aged 13, thinking
How many other people are going to hit me? What is it about me?
* * *
After that, my Mammy just kept taking more Valium and lurching from one crisis to another. At least the State made sure the rent was covered and I now became eligible for free school meals. So, in a way, things were a bit easier on the cash front. She made sure we had electricity by getting a pal of hers to break into the central panel for our block and illegally connect us directly – so we never had to pay another bill except on one occasion when an Electricity man spotted the wire. She was prosecuted and ended up in Glasgow Central Court where she turned into Greta Garbo and Rita Hayworth for the day. Watching all those angst-ridden movies on Sunday afternoon TV had paid off. She wrung her hands and cried:
‘Ma own mammy left me in ma teens an now I’ve got ma own weans and I’ve had a nervous breakdown and I’m havin’ the change of life!’ She always mentioned her womb when she wanted to make people uncomfortable. ‘And here’s me,’ she wailed, ‘and ma man’s ran away and left us all and I’ve got a wee lassie at school!’ She held her hand to her forehead and gave them their full money’s worth.
I sat in court thinking
Fucking hell, Mammy! Where did you get that voice from?
She did everything short of looking up to the skies to see her sons flying off to die in the Second World War.
She was given a warning and was told never to reconnect her own supply of electricity ever again. All the way back from the court to the bus stop, the two of us laughed.
‘What a performance I did there, eh, Janey?’ she said with some pride. ‘They all had to feel sorry for me when they saw me fallin’ apart.’
‘Yes, Mammy.’
It was only a few steps later that I realised everything she’d said (apart from the ‘change of life’) was true. She’d performed the tragic role of someone who was exactly who she was.
After this, Mammy fell into an even deeper depression; she started really going mad with the drugs and accumulated even more ‘Valium Pals’ around her: other women who were equally doped up all day on tablets. Sometimes I would come home from school and find them all in our dirty living room with the graffiti on the walls, huddled around our wee fire talking gibberish.
‘There’s a snake sliding up that wall, Janey! Hit the spider off! There’s a spider on it … There’s spiders! … There’s spiders everywhere!!’
I kept to myself more and more, sharing my thoughts only with Major. We would go on long walks as I poured it all out to him; he must have been fed up listening to my shit life. Even dogs have their limits. Some mornings, when Mammy let him out for a while on his own, he would try to follow me to school. This worried me a lot, as he was always hungry and did bite people at random. I often had to chase him back up the street, hoping he could make it home without snarling at someone.
*
With that, Mammy turned on her heels, grabbed me by the hand and marched out of the school leaving everyone in the office in a state of shock. The police were never called. The girl whose cash had been ‘stolen’ admitted she spent the money on food because she was hungry and the headmistress told everyone at our school assembly that there had been no theft. I sat smugly as I was vindicated and my Mammy became a legend at Eastbank Academy. The aftermath was that the headmistress and my Mammy had another meeting. My Mammy came out and told me:
‘Look, she’s accepted that you never stole the money, but you dodged a class and I punched that cow, so you’re going to have to take six of the belt.’
I was given six lashes with a leather strap on my right hand and the headmistress looked like a crazed animal when she was hitting me. Even the assistant head, who was present, looked unsettled when he saw her eyes. I stood there, aged 13, thinking
How many other people are going to hit me? What is it about me?
* * *
After that, my Mammy just kept taking more Valium and lurching from one crisis to another. At least the State made sure the rent was covered and I now became eligible for free school meals. So, in a way, things were a bit easier on the cash front. She made sure we had electricity by getting a pal of hers to break into the central panel for our block and illegally connect us directly – so we never had to pay another bill except on one occasion when an Electricity man spotted the wire. She was prosecuted and ended up in Glasgow Central Court where she turned into Greta Garbo and Rita Hayworth for the day. Watching all those angst-ridden movies on Sunday afternoon TV had paid off. She wrung her hands and cried:
‘Ma own mammy left me in ma teens an now I’ve got ma own weans and I’ve had a nervous breakdown and I’m havin’ the change of life!’ She always mentioned her womb when she wanted to make people uncomfortable. ‘And here’s me,’ she wailed, ‘and ma man’s ran away and left us all and I’ve got a wee lassie at school!’ She held her hand to her forehead and gave them their full money’s worth.
I sat in court thinking
Fucking hell, Mammy! Where did you get that voice from?
She did everything short of looking up to the skies to see her sons flying off to die in the Second World War.
She was given a warning and was told never to reconnect her own supply of electricity ever again. All the way back from the court to the bus stop, the two of us laughed.
‘What a performance I did there, eh, Janey?’ she said with some pride. ‘They all had to feel sorry for me when they saw me fallin’ apart.’
‘Yes, Mammy.’
It was only a few steps later that I realised everything she’d said (apart from the ‘change of life’) was true. She’d performed the tragic role of someone who was exactly who she was.
After this, Mammy fell into an even deeper depression; she started really going mad with the drugs and accumulated even more ‘Valium Pals’ around her: other women who were equally doped up all day on tablets. Sometimes I would come home from school and find them all in our dirty living room with the graffiti on the walls, huddled around our wee fire talking gibberish.
‘There’s a snake sliding up that wall, Janey! Hit the spider off! There’s a spider on it … There’s spiders! … There’s spiders everywhere!!’
I kept to myself more and more, sharing my thoughts only with Major. We would go on long walks as I poured it all out to him; he must have been fed up listening to my shit life. Even dogs have their limits. Some mornings, when Mammy let him out for a while on his own, he would try to follow me to school. This worried me a lot, as he was always hungry and did bite people at random. I often had to chase him back up the street, hoping he could make it home without snarling at someone.
*
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