Paolo Hewitt - The Looked After Kid

An uplifting story about refusing to give up on your dreamsreal inspiration to loads of people who have had similar backgrounds to Paolo.

Irvine Welsh

[Paolo] offers rare insight into the psyche of those who grow up without the unconditional love of a parent.

The Times

[Paolos] experience as a writer is evident. Despite the emotional weight of the subject, The Looked After Kid is a pleasure to read.

New Statesman

[Paolo] manages to offer insights and encouragement for cared-for youngsters and their care staff.

The Guardian

I cannot tell you how moved, touched, horrified and amused I was. I rate it with Catcher in the Rye .

Jilly Cooper

An emotional book it got to me .

Kevin Rowland, Dexys

the lack of journalistic gesticulation and presumption makes this both a refreshing and riveting read.

Mojo magazine

On bookshelves packed with a growing genre of harrowing real-life stories, this book stands out The book is well written, but his insight and self-awareness clearly come from a position that allows him to observe what he has experienced.

Therapy Today magazine

The Looked After Kid

by the same author

But We All Shine On

The Remarkable Orphans of Burbank Childrens Home

Paolo Hewitt

ISBN 978 1 84905 583 3

eISBN 978 1 78450 033 7

of related interest

No Matter What

An Adoptive Familys Story of Hope, Love and Healing

Sally Donovan

ISBN 978 1 84905 431 7

eISBN 978 0 85700 781 0

Shattered Lives

Children Who Live with Courage and Dignity

Camila Batmanghelidjh

ISBN 978 1 84310 603 6

eISBN 978 1 84642 254 6

The Looked After Kid

My Life in a Childrens Home

Revised Edition

Paolo Hewitt

Jessica Kingsley Publishers
London and Philadelphia

This revised edition published in 2015

by Jessica Kingsley Publishers

73 Collier Street

London N1 9BE, UK

and

400 Market Street, Suite 400

Philadelphia, PA 19106, USA

www.jkp.com

First published in 2002 by Mainstream Publishing

Copyright Paolo Hewitt 2002, 2015

Front cover image copyright Des Hurrion 2015

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form (including photocopying of any pages other than those marked with a [insert tick symbol], storing it in any medium by electronic means and whether or not transiently or incidentally to some other use of this publication) without the written permission of the copyright owner except in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 or under the terms of a licence issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency Ltd, Saffron House, 610 Kirby Street, London EC1N 8TS. Applications for the copyright owners written permission to reproduce any part of this publication should be addressed to the publisher.

Warning: The doing of an unauthorised act in relation to a copyright work may result in both a civil claim for damages and criminal prosecution.

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Hewitt, Paolo, 1958

The looked after kid : memoirs from a childrens home / Paolo Hewitt. -- Revised [editioni]

pages cm

ISBN 978-1-84905-588-8 (alk. paper)

1. Hewitt, Paolo, 1958-2. Foster children--Great Britain--Biography. 3. Orphanages--Great Britain. I.

Title.

HV874.82.H49A3 2015

362.733092--dc23

[B]

2014017540

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 978 1 84905 588 8

eISBN 978 1 78450 042 9

For Dio, who gives me everything I need and then more, and for S., who lives and breathes behind every word I write. This book, its all part of my way of giving, just as you have given so much to me.

Contents

Acknowledgements

I want to thank my old agents, Julian Alexander and Lucinda Cook, for putting me on the right track when the first drafts of this book started emerging. I especially want to thank Bill Campbell at Mainstream for taking this work on initially. I also want to thank Mainstreams Fiona Brownlee and my editor Clive Hewat for the work they did on the original edition. I would like to deeply thank Stephen Jones and everyone at Jessica Kingsley Publishers for this reprint. I also want to acknowledge the hard work and talent that went into the books many cover designs. Take a bow George Georgiou.

There are so many other people that I have to thank that I doubt I have the pages to name you all. But you know who you are. You came to me in the Home and you befriended me. You gave me cigarettes and companionship and you protected me from the fury of the bullies. You let me into your room and gave me wisdom and your body. When I left, you built a room for me in Aldershot which I never used and yet you never complained once. Your family took me in and I will never forget your kindness. You took all my money at cards but paid me back a million times over. So did your wife. You grinned and bore it when I smashed your rare olive oil. You kicked a car in Hackney and took my photo a million times. I met you in London, the youngest DJ I ever knew, and then we played football in Hyde Park and swallowed the pill and chased girls together. You sang about solace and you sat with me on Camden High Street at five in the morning and held my hand. You never let me down, bald head, and you gave me the shirt off my captains back, which still hangs upon my wall. We looked out for each other at the NME and I was proud to be in your first book. We smoked the ting and wrote our wayward favourites story. We gave you the Chocolate Lady, you gave me Ali for my 40th. I watched you turn from a monkey to a man and watched all your family turn into angels. And I saw you go from disciple to leader.

You sat with me in Sorrento and gave me laughs and wisdom. When I arrived at your doorstep, you brought me into the family, made me feel so loved that tears would bubble in my eyes every time I left the Piazza Tasso. When I was ill you took me in and helped repair me. You sent me Some Kind of Wonderful, which was wonderful, and you painted me Heavens Promise . You brought us all together at Christmas and you burnt CDs in Birmingham. We reasoned a million times and we will reason another million. On a plane in Japan, tears dropped down your cheek when I told you my story and I will never forget those tears. And now its all this. Fantastic, eh?

You know who you are and you know what you mean to me. And so for you, and for all the looked after kids everywhere this ones for you.

One

The Walk

July 1958

During my second day on earth a nurse came and stole me from my mother. She walked into the ward where my mother slept, picked me up and carried me to a waiting car which then drove off into the black night. When my mother awoke she was without her third child, her first son.

I have wondered about that nurse many times. In idle dreams I have tried to picture her face, her body, her way of walking. Sometimes I have sought to place myself in her mind, to read the thoughts that raced through her head as she and I journeyed down that long and shiny-floored corridor. How did she feel? Was she sad? Did any regret at removing me from my mothers care find its way into her being?

How did she view me? With love? Hate? Disgust? If the truth be told it was probably with distaste. After all, the year was 1958 and I had been born a bastard in a time when such a title carried huge shame. Two days old and already I lived without honour.