Tears of Innocence

By T. R. Robinson

No matter who you are or what you are experiencing, you can overcome and survive.

In this true account you will first encounter the five year old girl who suffers a loss that has a massive impact upon the rest of her life.

Subsequently, her innocence, loving nature, and incredible naivety combined with her natural beauty are taken advantage of by both family and strangers.

Fighting her way free she manages to escape their clutches but only to fall into the hands of an occupying force who torture and violate her and leave her for dead.

Ultimately, after many hardships, she is restored to her relatives through whom she meets a foreign national. Domestic violence leading to attempted suicide, near insanity, and the contemplation of murder follow.

How can she survive all this? Click the BUY NOW button to enter her world and see if she does.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T. R. Robinson
• Release date: Apr 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310609572

T. R. Robinson

My initial inspiration to write came from when I realised my life, as well as those of my ancestors, were anything but ‘normal’. They were certainly not ‘run-of-the-mill’. Originating within a very loving family I was, at a very early age, unexpectedly thrown into a very cruel world. Abuse, torture, violence and disappointment followed and have been my companions for as long as I can remember. However, there were also some enjoyable fun times that I recall with pleasure. For example: when a good friend and I, dressed in evening gowns and with our best jewellery on, fell face first into mud or when a young man, stopping me in the High Street, went on his knees to, as he put it, ‘worship’ me. These and other similar events still bring a smile to my face. Having survived the abuse, torture (World War II) and eventually escaping from domestic violence I went on to experience a variety of different employments. Laboratory assistant, night hospital orderly, machinist in a clothing factory, finally finding a niche in the world of public houses and night clubs as a barmaid and waitress. Though not glamorous these did provide the income, by working three jobs at the same time, to support and bring up my son. Regrettably I did not entirely leave abuse and violence behind me. But I am a survivor and am here to share a variety of tales, both factual and fictional, with you. Website: http://www.trrobinsonpublications.com If you have comments or questions or would like to contact me for any reason, please use website ‘Contact’ form at: https://trrobinsonpublications.com/contact/ Other books by the author: Details and links to other books by the athor may be found at: https://trrobinsonpublications.com/books/ I hope enjoyed this book and would appreciate you leaving a review on any of the social media sites you may use as well as Amazon, Goodreads, etc. T. R. Robinson 2017

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Tears of Innocence

T. R. Robinson

Copyright © 2016 T. R. Robinson

All rights reserved.

The moral right of T. R. Robinson has been asserted.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent publisher.

Published by T. R. Robinson at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover by: SelfPubBookCovers.com/FrinaArt

Dedication

In memory of my beloved mother with whom I enjoyed far too little time.

Contents

Acknowledgments

Preface

1 The End

2 Brother George

3 Farewell

4 Damn Bee!

5 Dragons

6 Liquor

7 War!

8 The Mayor

9 Why?

10 Servitude

11 Torture

12 Rescue

13 Reunion

14 Womanhood

15 Deception

16 England

17 Shoes

18 A Lump

19 Nativity

20 Insanity

21 Did I?

22 Royalty

23 Freedom!

Closing Note

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Thank you mother for your love and guidance during my earliest years. I wish we had enjoyed more time together.

I would also like to thank my son for his help and guidance during the writing of this book.

Preface

Language: British English including British spelling has been used throughout.

Italics: Italics have been used to convey my thoughts and emotions of the time.

Accuracy: This is a factual account. The conversations took place although after so many years I may not have remembered each word or phrase exactly as they were spoken.

Disclaimer: In order to protect those still living, the descendants of those referred to and my own family, names of people and places have either been changed or omitted.

Reason for this edition: In response to a variety of comments and observations I decided to write this abridged dialogue based version of my life. This is the first of what I anticipate will be a three book series of my abridged autobiography. I propose to write a full unabridged narrative version in due course.

T. R. Robinson 2016

1 The End

The snow covered scene had delighted me as I looked on it through the kitchen window. I’d never seen snow before and had been very excited. Mama sat by the roaring fire sewing. Papa had gone to the café to meet up with the men of the village. My sisters and I had been doing our homework when a sudden howling wind had made us jump. It had been as if a pack of demented souls were trying to break through the doors and windows. I’d love to go and play in it. I could be the first to leave footprints just like the birds.

May I go and play outside?

Not now darling it’s getting dark. I’d remained by the window and enjoyed watching as the snow fell from the wind battered branches, creating little hillocks all round.

All of a sudden mama had turned round.

Did you hear that?

What? My sisters and I had replied in unison.

A baby crying. Mama had moved to the door.

It’s just the wind. The screeching wind had been blowing through the snow heavy branches and battering the building.

No. That’s a baby’s cry. Mama had been a sensitive soul and her caring nature often detected things others didn’t.

It can’t be!

You’re all to stay inside. I’ll be back soon. She’d then put her shawl on and gone out of the door.

I know mama said we’re to stay here but shouldn’t we follow her?

I don’t know. We shouldn’t disobey her. What do you think?

I’m not sure either.

Where’s she gone?

I wasn’t watching. She could’ve gone in any direction.

Well that decides it. We’ll have to wait and watch out for her from the window.

Once outside she stood still and listened carefully. With the persistent vociferous wind battering its way through the snow laden trees, and the continual plop, plop as snow fell from branches, hearing anything else became a strain. Nevertheless, she was certain she’d heard the cry of a baby. Then in the midst of the other noises a tiny whimper came floating through. Step by step she moved in the direction from which she thought the cry had come. Darkness was falling and it was increasingly difficult to see. Nonetheless, she wasn’t going to concede and kept moving forward with hand outstretched to detect any obstacle there may be in her way. The chaotic conditions kept distorting the direction from which the cry came but she determinedly moved forward. Straining her eyes and ears she spotted some movement and heard another tiny whimper. And there under a snow covered bush she discovered a new born baby. Quickly scooping him up, she wrapped her shawl round his tiny body, then turned and headed back, the light from the windows now guiding her.

It seems ages since mama went out. Where can she be? Ah! There she is. Mama had gone straight to the fire when she came in. Mama’s soaked through and she’s shivering. I hope she’s all right. What’s that bundle in her arms?

I was right. There was a baby. Mama had then unwound her shawl to reveal a new born baby, naked as born

Oh!!

He’s very cold. And so small. A deep look of concern had crossed her features. So there was a baby. Where did mama find him? How come? I’d so love to know. But I don’t think this is the right time to ask questions.

It looks like someone’s abandoned this poor child to die in the snow.

No! Our mouths had fallen open, a little like gasping fish. Who’d do such a thing? God must be very cross with them. I can’t believe anyone would purposely try to kill a baby. When older my sisters and I realised he’d been either an illegitimate child, a very serious matter in those days, or one more too many for a family already struggling on the starvation line. Horrible, but desperation can lead to unreasonable behaviour. There was no welfare system and anyone who may have been able to help was probably already struggling to survive themselves.

Helen. Watch the baby while I go and get some warm clothes for him. Make sure he doesn’t hurt himself should he turn or kick out and keep him by the fire. Helen had been my eldest sister. Mama had then gone out the door and up the path that led to the main house. Our kitchen, scullery and bathroom were in a separate building from the main house. Families like ours didn’t like their living quarters impregnated with unpleasant odours. When returned mama had quickly washed, dried and dressed him. She’d then wrapped a soft fluffy blanket round his tiny body. Oh look, he’s so weak he’s not even kicking out his little legs. Did someone really leave him to die so horribly? Is it possible? Who’d do such a thing?

Helen you hold him. Gently now. Anna! Bring me some milk from the scullery. Make sure it’s today’s. Anna had been my other sister.

Here it is mama. She poured some into a saucepan and placed it over the fire.

Treasure. Go to the left hand drawer in the dresser and bring me the bottle you find in it. Mama had been talking to me. Goody I’m going to help too. She’d then washed the bottle and poured the warmed milk into it. Having gently lifted the child from Helen’s arms she rested him on her lap and carefully put the bottle teat to his lips. He’s not going to drink.

Cooee. Come on. It’ll be good for you. His mouth’s opening.

Come on. There, good boy. Oh look he’s drinking.

Poor little thing he’s so weak he can only take a few drops. We’ll just have to be patient and give him a little at a time. Papa had come in just then. Seeing the baby in mama’s lap he raised an eyebrow and quizzed her with his eyes. He’d been accustomed to her looking after unwell and unfortunate people but a baby in the house was something new. Mama had quickly explained.

Would you please get the old crib from the house?

Here it is. Shall I put it by the fire?

Yes. Thank you.

Rupert, that was the name we gave him, remained very weak and had been unable to take but a few drops of milk each time we fed him. His exposure to the heavy snow and severe cold had taken a toll upon his tiny body. He looks so pale and weak. I wish we could help him more. Mama’s also looking pale and tired. I hope she’s all right. During the whole time Rupert was with us it had been mama who took primary responsibility for looking after him. It was her who cradled him when he was unsettled. It was her who got up when he cried. When a fever took hold, it had been her who sat with him throughout the cold nights. Goodness knows what papa had thought of all this. If only we didn’t have to go to school we could help more. And mama insists we do our homework instead of playing with Rupert. Throughout mama never neglected her regular responsibilities; household, livestock and us. Neither had she failed in her ministrations to those who needed her. The cold weather had resulted in more sick and unwell to attend to. It had been a punishing routine. Naturally she’d also made enquiries to try and establish who Rupert belonged to but without result. No one wanted to own up to having abandoned a new born.

Unfortunately, mama’s escapade in the snow had left her with a chill which, despite her own medical administrations, she had a doctor’s degree, got worse. Even the old herbal remedies handed down through the family proved ineffectual. Caring for Rupert and sitting up on cold nights couldn’t have helped.

Mama are you all right?

Yes of course I am dears. Mama looks so ill. I’m worried. Better not say anything. The others would probably just get cross with me if I do.

~~~~~~~~

One day I returned home from visiting a friend to find Helen waiting for me at the door. This is unusual. Why isn’t she at Tom’s house? She usually is this time of day. Helen had been in a serious courtship with the boy who would become her husband. Time for her ‘little’ sister had been the last thing she had.

Go to your room and pack some clothes. You’re going to stay with Elaine for a few days. Elaine had been my best friend.

Why? We haven’t made any plans for me to visit her.

Just do what I tell you and hurry up!

But, I don’t want to go to Elaine’s.

You’re going and that’s that! I’ll take you over when you’re ready. Now hurry up! I know I enjoy going to Elaine’s but what’s the rush? Something’s wrong! I side stepped my sister and ran into the kitchen to ask mama. Where is she? She’s usually getting the food ready for tonight’s meal now. Mama had admitted for a couple of days she hadn’t been feeling very well but it hadn’t stopped her going about her daily routine. What’s happening? My stomach hurts. I can’t breathe! Why do I feel like crying? My sister’s command, its unusual nature and the tone of her voice, had alarmed me. Something’s definitely wrong!

Helen had followed me into the kitchen.

Where’s mama?!

She’s not feeling well and is resting in her room. We’re not to disturb her. Now I know something’s wrong! Mama never keeps us out.

I want to see mama!

You can’t. Now hurry up and get ready.

I want ………..!

GET READY! I know that voice. And that look in her eyes. No point in arguing. She’ll just get angrier. Reluctantly I’d packed a small bag with the minimum of clothes and toiletries. I’m sure it’ll only be for a couple of days at most. Mama will want me back home then.

Come on! Helen’s very quiet. Why? What’s upset her? Why wouldn’t she let me see mama? I’m frightened. I don’t want to go. Keep quiet. Best not upset her anymore.

~~~~~~~~~

Welcome, welcome, it’s nice to see you again. Elaine’s parents had greeted me.

Thank you.

Come on let’s go to our room and leave them to talk. We went upstairs.

You don’t seem very happy. Is something wrong?

Sorry. I’m okay. My friend had been no fool but had kindly not pressed the matter. Instead she had tried to bring me out of myself.

Here’s the new doll papa bought me.

She’s beautiful. I want to go home. I want mama.

Have you seen this new board game? It’s really fun.

Is it? How does it work? I mustn’t be rude. It wouldn’t be fair.

I’ll show you. Come on concentrate, be fair.

It’s no good. I don’t want to be here. Something’s wrong at home. What can it be? Why wouldn’t Helen tell me? I’m frightened. My chest feels so tight. It hurts. I can’t breathe! Over the next couple of days my friend had continued to show me her new toys, games and books. I’d tried to take an interest but couldn’t get my thoughts away from home. I’ve never been away for this long before. Why hasn’t mama come to see me? Why hasn’t anyone one been? Is mama ill?

Excuse me do you know if everything’s all right at home?

Um, O yes, okay. It’s time for dinner.

Thank you for having me to stay. I’d like to go home now.

Why don’t you and Elaine go and play in the garden.

Why won’t they answer me? Something IS wrong! I don’t care what anyone says, I’m going home!

Good, Elaine’s asleep. I’d quickly dressed and crept out of the bedroom. I must see mama. She must be ill. Why else wouldn’t she have come to see me? I must know! I tiptoed through the house. Watch those squeaky boards and stairs. My heart’s beating so loud. Please God, don’t let anyone wake up. I reached the yard. Thank goodness no one’s woken. Good, clear sky and full moon. When I touched her the grey mare had startled and neighed.

Shush. Come on you know me, we’ve ridden together enough times. She’d quietened once she realised who I was. Grabbing her mane I’d swung myself up onto her bare back. Bother I forgot the chickens. The cock had crowed at the top of his voice while the hens cackled in alarm. At least I’ve a head start should anyone wake up. Anyway it’s not far. I knew the track well and the mare was sure footed so I’d made her canter as fast as possible. The bright moonlight had made it easy to avoid any pits in the path and we arrived without incident despite the fast pace.

This is odd. Why are there lights in all the rooms? And why are there so many people? There shouldn’t be visitors at this time of night. Something’s definitely wrong! The sight had caused my heart to beat faster, my blood to boil and my stomach to somersault. I’d jumped off intent on running straight to mama but as my feet hit the ground I recalled my sister’s attitude. Better not let anyone see me. So how am I going to get in? There’re people everywhere. What’s going on? I’d left the mare to graze a little distance from the house. Using the natural cover provided by bushes, trees and general undergrowth I’d stealthily moved toward the building. How am I going to get across the yard? The moonlight’s so bright. I’m bound to be seen. Ah, there’re less people at the side. Doing my best to control my nerves I’d taken a deep breath and made a wild dash. People had been so occupied in their conversations I’d made it to the wall unnoticed. Then using the darkened doorways and shadowed corners I’d slipped inside. Now what? I need to get to mama’s room. But how can I without anyone seeing me? I carefully looked round corners and down passageways. Everyone seems sad. Why? Why am I frightened? I must ask mama. I made it to the bottom of the stairs. Good there’s no one here. Careful, I mustn’t make any noise. As I ascended the staircase my heart beat increased. Oh no! Why are all those people standing round mama’s door? How am I going to get in? The French window? No, the balcony’s crowded. I’ll have to go through the door. I’ll have to run under people’s legs. I think I’m small enough. I’d drawn in my breath, gathered my courage and darting out from behind the balustrades had run as fast as I could.