Izzy Hammond - Someone To Watch Over Me: The True Tale of a Survivor Haunted by the Demons of Abuse

Contents

There are a number of people I would like to thank, the most important one being my husband for his unfailing belief, support and encouragement, and for loving me warts and all.

Thank you to my children, for whom I acknowledge this continues to be a painful journey. You are stronger than you think.

To my mum and dad. Without your love, I wonder how I would have had the strength to survive.

To my soul sisters. Without you both, life would be a much colder place, thank you for always being there.

Thank you to all of my family, near and far, for your constant support, encouragement and belief in what I was doing.

My thanks also to Richard McCann for his help and advice and just for being there for me.

To my dearest friend Joy, you gave me the gift of time to find my way, and I owe you countless boxes of tissues from over the years.

To Caroline, for your friendship, professional eye and the many cups of coffee weve shared.

My heartfelt thanks to Sarah and all of the staff at the Priory Hospital, especially Elaine, who held my hand all of the way and never wavered. Also thank you to Harry for my bag of tools, of which I now have many.

My thanks to Bill Campbell, Ailsa Bathgate and the team at Mainstream Publishing for allowing my voice to be heard.

A very special thank you to Robert Potter, who turned my words into book form. Thank you for your sensitivity, perception, patience and continued support. I could not have done this without you.

All the names and identities of those who feature in this book have been altered, along with the geographical locations and some dates. I have used a pseudonym to write it. I have done this to protect the anonymity of my children, though they are aware of its publication. The reason for this is that, while I hope telling my story might help others who have found or find themselves in a similar situation, my children and grandchildren have the right to privacy, and I would ask for this to be respected.

Standing before the mirror in her white dress and wedding veil, Emily looked every inch the beautiful blushing bride as her older sister Alice, who had not only made the wedding dress but all the bridesmaids and pageboys outfits as well, put the finishing touches to Emilys gown and make-up. A shaft of summer sunlight added further lustre to the glossy raven ringlets of Emilys hair, but she was far too pensive to admire her reflection, her normally full red lips remaining pinched while her once flashing emerald eyes looked dull and distant. Sensing her sisters unease, Alice gently laid a reassuring hand on Emilys arm, but nothing could soothe the brides sense of impending dread at walking up the aisle of the local village church that day to become Mrs Ronald Baird. This match, however, was her mother Gertis wish and, as her brother Harry and sisters Lily, Alice and Grace knew all too well, where the family was concerned, their mothers word was law.

The youngest of the five children, Emily had been born in the spring of 1922 in the front room of the three-up three-down terraced house on the outskirts of Littlehampton, a small family home already bursting at the seams. Her father, Dick, a coach driver, spent long hours working on the round trips from Littlehampton to London. With no laws then to govern the amount of hours a driver could do in one day, Granddad would often drive until he was ready to drop and then grab a few hours grateful sleep, if he was lucky, before setting off again.

As the driving job was seasonal, my grandparents would often open up their already cramped home to tourists and lodgers to help supplement their income. The children all slept in one room, their parents in another, whilst the third and largest room was reserved for the paying guests. Downstairs was similarly divided, with the central room next to the small scullery serving as the familys living room and kitchen, while the front parlour was the preserve of the lodgers. Life was hard and money remained a constant concern, as it did for most people in those days, but they were by and large a happy family who enjoyed simple pleasures such as walks through the surrounding fields, which stretched as far as the eye could see, visits to the beach nearby and to the local bandstand, where on a Sunday local ladies and gentlemen danced to the music and ate their picnic teas on the grass.

But my mothers family harboured an unspoken secret. My grandmother, Gerti, had performed a home abortion prior to conceiving her youngest child, and on discovering she had fallen pregnant yet again, Gerti tried to abort using a crochet hook, but this time to no avail. Such actions might seem harsh in this day and age, but Gerti was one of eight children herself, and after being orphaned at the age of ten, she had formed a pragmatic iron will while growing up in the poverty of a north London workhouse. Whether her actions had any effect on her unborn child will never be known; however, it quickly became apparent that Emily had been born profoundly deaf.

In those days, many deaf children would have been sent away to an institution, but my grandmother steadfastly refused to let this happen perhaps she felt some guilt over her babys disability or perhaps she was simply in denial of it. Instead, she raised her daughter within the family home, and her three other girls took turns to nurse and look after their youngest sister. Despite her seemingly austere nature, Gerti doted on the young Emily, teaching her how to sew, knit, cook and clean, all to the high standards Gerti demanded. My grandmother was also determined to teach Emily how to talk, holding up items or pointing to objects and then making Emily painstakingly repeat the right words until her pronunciation was perfect. During these lengthy lessons, Gerti would also gently place her daughters fingers to her throat and mouth and then back to her own, so she could copy the vibration and mouth-shape each word made for herself.

When Emily was ten, her parents tried to teach her how to read, using books for children half her age, but this time they did not enjoy quite the same success. Emily would become extremely frustrated and refuse to cooperate, hurling the books to the floor in disgust as she stormed out of the room screaming she was not a baby. For despite the close bond Emily had with her family, especially her sister Alice and her father, a placid, humorous man so different in nature from his wife, Emilys world was often a confusing one, haunted by a peculiar loneliness brought on by its perpetual silence. Even as she grew older, her sisters would have to take turns at night to sit with her until she fell asleep, with Emily clinging tightly to their clothes to make sure they didnt leave her. Each sister would pray she would fall asleep quickly, but as soon as they made to get up from the bed, Emily would waken with tears streaming down her cheeks, pleading with them to stay. When she eventually did fall fast asleep, the patient sister was free to resume the chores she had to finish before it was her time to retire for the night.

Emilys world was further confused at the age of 13, when a place was found for her at a local school. The school had no facilities to deal with a deaf child and, due to her frustration and fear of the unfamiliar surroundings, she soon became so disruptive that the exasperated staff had no other option but to inform her parents they could not keep her. From there, Emily was sent to a convent, as in those days nuns or monks would often educate deaf children. But, once again, they could not cope with her behaviour, and it was not long before Emily was sent home. In desperation, Gerti decided the family should move back to her old neighbourhood in north London, as perhaps it would be easier to find a more suitable establishment there at which Emily could continue her fragmented education. And as fortune would have it, a more illustrious member of the extended family stepped in at this point and not only managed to find Emily a place at a private boarding school for the deaf but also made a sizeable contribution towards her tuition fees.