The Light

By Samuel Hartland

Samuel Hartland is the innocent wee boy traumatised and tormented as he grows up by feelings and emotions he can't understand nor discuss. His behaviour was entirely different to his younger brother that his parents sought help. A child Psychiatrist first saw him at age five where his parents received seriously wrong advice thus the roller coaster ride began. As he grows up he gets himself into disastrous situations some through no fault of his and others, he could have avoided. He desperately battles to find love during adulthood eventually finding it under the strangest and most astonishing circumstances.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Nov 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499091281

Samuel Hartland

Samuel Hartland born 1966 in Dumfries, South West Scotland is a regular guy that lives alone with his cheeky tabby cat. The book “The Light” written as therapy suggested by his Psychiatrist to help rid him of the ghosts and demons that has haunted him most of his life.

Book preview

9781499091281-4.png

Copyright © 2014 by Samuel Hartland.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2014919513

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-4990-9127-4

                eBook           978-1-4990-9128-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 11/06/2014

Xlibris

0-800-056-3182

www.xlibrispublishing.co.uk

696970

Contents

Introduction

Chapter One—Preschool

Chapter Two—Junior School

Chapter Three—Adolescence

Chapter Four—Followed

Chapter Five—First Death

Chapter Six—New Friends

Chapter Seven—Senior School

Chapter Eight—Operation

Chapter Nine—Caught

Chapter Ten—My Own Kind

Chapter Eleven—First Real Love

Chapter Twelve—The Accident

Chapter Thirteen—Caught By Family

Chapter Fourteen—Mental Institution

Chapter Fifteen—Disowned

Chapter Sixteen—Prostitution

Chapter Seventeen—Pressure To Marry

Chapter Eighteen—The Search Began

Chapter Nineteen—Physically Rapped

Chapter Twenty—Transvestite Lodger

Chapter Twenty-One—Second Death

Chapter Twenty-Two—Decision To Split

Chapter Twenty-Three—My Way Out

Chapter Twenty-Four—Internet Meets

Chapter Twenty-Five—Brutally Rapped

Chapter Twenty-Six—Introductions

Chapter Twenty-Seven—Living In Florida

Chapter Twenty-Eight—Leaving The USA

Chapter Twenty-Nine—Picking Up The Pieces

Chapter Thirty—New Career

Chapter Thirty-One—Finally Found

Chapter Thirty-Two—Pushed Out

Chapter Thirty-Three—Mental Health

Chapter Thirty-Four—Seeing The Light

Authors Note:

All names and places have been changed to protect the people mentioned so as I could tell my story.

Introduction

The Light was written more by coincidence, as I never set out to write an autobiography. It was a suggestion given to me by my Psychiatrist as a form of therapy. He had suggested this therapy because I found it so hard to open up and talk about all that had tortured and haunted me most of my adult life. Claiming that by writing from my earliest memory to the current date I would relive and finally be able to move past it. I, of course, took on the suggestion full heartedly and began to write. My Psychiatrist was correct I indeed began reliving all the pain and misery I’d suffered my entire life. At times as I wrote I would feel warm inside, quite happy and would be smiling away to myself sometimes even laughing by myself. Of course at other points I would be getting shivers up my spine and scared as I wrote about some of the more hurtful experiences. Sometimes the tears would be running down my face, and I’d get myself into a pretty upset state. Then I’d get frustrated and angry at certain parts sometimes leaving me in a worse state than I was before I began. Give the Psychiatrist his due, he obviously knew all that this therapy would put me through and knew the outcome of it before I’d even started.

As I wrote and moved onto the next section, I was indeed able to talk with him regarding all that I’d written. Yes, at times it was still pretty hard to do but I was now at least able to talk to him about all that had troubled me. I believed his therapy was indeed working as I wrote I managed to let go of many ghosts and felt so much better for that. More traumatic experiences I still found it very hard and still held back and to this day have never told a soul or indeed talked about them. Although I touched on these subjects as I wrote, I couldn’t bring myself to write all that indeed happened as did not want to relive through that experience again. I wrote it all just as it happened and held nothing back, which means there are sexually explicit material and some truly bad language within the story.

After writing to the current day, I sat and read through all I’d indeed written and thought it read more like a book than any exercise. I, therefore, set about changing all names and places mentioned to protect the people mentioned within and of course my identity. However, I left the sexual content, and the fowl language as to change any of that parts would indeed be changing the way my life has been.

Granted I’ve written it in first person and is maybe unusual for a book, but I believe it makes you the reader feel every emotion and terrifying experience that I did as you read.

The title The Light came from my final experience of finally being able to let go all the pain torture and torment I’ve known. With a great deal of help by my wonderful Psychiatrist, I finally saw the light at the end of the dark tunnel.

Wednesday 6/10/98

Hey Sam! 9781499091281-5.png

I received your very warm and welcome letter last Thursday and it was very good to hear from you and I appreciate your response to my listing.

I apologies for my delay in responding to your letter but it caught me without any stamps, hence the delay.

I have to admit being confused about any profile listed with Introductions. This may seem odd to you but I’ve never heard of it and have no idea how my name came to be in their directory. I would appreciate more information about it if you don’t mind.

The only thing I can think of is that a guy I help do legal work for had it done for me - I haven’t had a chance to see him at this time. He had mentioned his friend in England being able to put my name in a Gay Magazine so maybe he changed it.

Thanks for the photo. I like it a lot! You remind me very much of someone else I used to know. 9781499091281-5.png

As you can see, I’ve enclosed a copy of my photo. It’s not a very good copy but it wasn’t a very good photo to start. At least you’ll be able to see what I look like anyway. 9781499091281-5.png

I really like your description and believe we have a lot in common there so I’m looking forward to getting to know you!

In addition, we share a lot of similar interests & attributes - I’m pretty neat and clean in my accommodation and I also like the comfortable/casual dress code in general but like you, can get smart for the proper time/place.

I enjoy a wide variety of music - anything but rap and I also like to cook, although I don’t know any foreign dishes. I love to eat all types of cultural foods. I also like the theatre and cinema and eating out. I like crafts but they are ceramics, macramé and building models, but that’s not really a craft.

I’m glad that you seem to be so open-minded and non judgmental and understanding.

Your letter definitely did not bore me and I don’t mind if you pry - ask what you like - I’ll explain as best I can.

I want to get this off to you so you wont give up on my reply - I’ll write more next time.

All for now - stay safe and well.

Sincerely, Dylan J

CHAPTER ONE

Preschool

A cute and innocent blue-eyed boy at three years old is how I remember myself back then at the cottage in Thorn Hill, which was on South West of Scotland. It was a beautiful and peaceful countryside location overlooking the River Nith and the Dumfries skyline and the place I used to call home.

My parents had bought the cottage not long after they got married as wanted to live in the countryside; it was the perfect home really. Situated halfway up a steep hill with only a farmhouse across the Street and another small cottage around the corner and very little traffic. The small country church sat at the bottom of the hill and a junior school up at the top, a picture perfect setting.

Eight hundred was what they paid for the cottage back then, I guess a great deal of money in those days. It sure doesn’t seem a great deal these days for a property of any type. You could hardly buy a small trailer for that amount of money now a-days.

The cottage itself, of course, was small inside; I believe it just had a couple of rooms upstairs and the same downstairs. The back yard was pretty amazing with an enormous barn type building; you could have easily fitted six or seven cars in this, but it was simply our toy-shed.

My life was so different back then; I used to be a happy-go-lucky chubby little kid with not one care in the world.

To this day I still think back with fond memories to the time we lived there. I often smile to myself, knowing it was one of the happiest times of my life as a young lad. Thinking back my parents themselves were very young too, not only had they bought their first home they’d also four infants I being one of them. My Mother could have only been about twenty-two years old and my Father just a few years older.

She didn’t work at that time though; she was a stay at home Mother looking after us four kids and was forever washing, ironing and doing the housework. When she wasn’t doing that she’d be cooking and baking or out doing the garden. Looking at all she did now, I guess that was a fulltime job in itself really?

Father, of course, would be up and away to work from the crack of dawn until late evening most days; at that time he worked for himself as a joiner. I don’t remember seeing much of him at that time in my life; I guess he worked real hard to provide for his family.

Though usually us four kids would be in bed by my Father got home, though occasionally he would awaken us up as had taken home chocolate sweets for us.

Monday to Friday Mother’s routine was usually to get us four kids up, washed and dressed, do the breakfast and then walk my sisters to school and walk back home with my Brother and I. With my sisters at school most of the day that just left my younger Brother, Mother and I once we got home and it used to be wonderful just like that.

My younger Brother Matt, usually, in the playpen whilst Mother would be doing her housework, and I would be out in the yard or toy-shed playing. After her jobs in the house were finished she’d be outside feeding the rabbits and chickens we kept, my pets as I used to call them. Although my parents only kept them for fresh eggs or Sunday dinner not that I would have known that at the time. On occasions, Mother would let me feed the rabbits and chickens, though I was always told not to stick my fingers through the fence.

I guess even as far back as then I wasn’t too good at taking orders as I remember once running into the house screaming because one of the chickens had pecked my finger. Mother of course getting a real scare by the way I’d been screaming, thinking something awful had happened to me. I believe she stuck a little plaster on my finger and kissed it better saying, you’re ok, now go on back outside and play and just stay clear of those bad chicken.

It’s quite funny thinking back to silly little things like that. Though it’s those silly little things that I get so much pleasure out of remembering these days.

Just as I remember one of the upstairs bedrooms painted bright yellow. It’s strange that I always picture my Mother in that upstairs room standing ironing with the radio on the windowsill and her singing away to it. The song playing at the time I remember was I’m on top of the world by the Carpenters and it had likely been in the music charts at the time. I’m not sure if that was my Sister’s room or whether my Brother and I shared that room, though it left its impact on me for sure I guess as yellow is still one of my favourite colours today.

I’ve often driven out that way past the old cottage and at times even sat in my car near-by just thinking What if. I often wonder had we managed to stay there would my life have turned out any different than it has.

I sure believe our memories are far more powerful than we could likely ever imagine.

As at times whilst sitting there I have remembered things that I thought may have happened whilst living there and then after talking with my Mother, I learn they really did happen.

Like the time, I had been let out to play on my little three-wheeled bicycle in the back yard. I had been told distinctively to stay in the back yard and not to go around the side of the cottage or into the front garden. Though as per usual I hadn’t taken any notice of what my Mother had said and around I went. I mean it wasn’t like I could go anywhere; there was quite a high fence and gate. Don’t ask me how I managed; yes I got my bicycle as well as myself over that gate.

I was cycling up and down the road likely thinking I was clever. That was only until I came down the road and head to head with the farmer’s enormous tractor. My Mother has not ever forgot that day or indeed the sound of the tractor breaks as they screeched, obviously when he seen me on the road. I guess I gave everyone a scare that day and most of all myself. The screeching of the breaks was that loud that my Mother heard them in the cottage. She tells me she knew right away that it had to be me and that she ran right out the cottage immediately without even taking time to put something on her feet. I’d gotten such a scare that I had fallen off my bicycle it went one way and ended up in the ditch and here I was just a few feet away from this enormous tractor tire sitting crying. Lucky for me I hadn’t actually been hit by it. I can tell you though I never did venture out onto the road again by myself.

The only other times I remember being out on that road again was with my parents and my Aunt Liz when she used to come visit us. We used to call her our Aunt Liz, but it was my Mother’s Aunt. She looked a fair age even back then but had likely only been in her late forties early fifties. Aunt Liz had worked in the fish houses all her working life at the processing department and hell could she swear, just like how you would imagine an old fishwife to be. I remember we all used to get a good laugh when she came to visit. With her stories or her enacting out things she would do, and of course, it was the way she would tell them.

On this particular day my parents, Liz, Matt and I all walk up to the school in the afternoon to collect my sisters Jennifer and Jacqueline. True we had all a good laugh on the way up but not near as big a laugh as we got on the way home with what Aunt Liz got up to.

My parents had been walking together a little in front, Father pushing Matt in the pram and Mother holding my hand. Aunt Liz had Jennifer and Jacqueline with her and was walking a little behind us. We heard them laughing on the way back down the road, but the laughing got fainter and fainter; when we stopped to look round, there were no signs of any of them at first. Then we spotted them here was my Aunt Liz and my sisters in over the farmer’s field Aunt Liz shouting out Only collecting something for supper holding up two or three turnips. I found it real funny, but my Mother shouted out to her What are you doing, you can’t just go helping yourself to the farmer’s vegetables like that. My Aunt replying at the top of her lungs as she clambered back over the fence, He’s hardly going to fuckin’ miss them, he’s a whole fuckin’ park oh them. We couldn’t do anything for laughing; I suppose my Mother had been laughing at her steeling the turnips or the way she was clambering back over the fence. My sisters and I was laughing because of the way she spoke and swore all the time. About every second word out of her mouth was fuckin’ this or fuckin’ that, I guess just the typical fishwife right enough. Once she had caught back up with us, my Mother said, I hope no one seen you as we will be getting into trouble. My Aunt Liz just said, Well if the bugger comes knocking at the door, let me deal with him I’ll just put him straight, you have four fuckin’ kids to feed.

Aunt Liz worked in the fish and could swear like a trooper, but it was mainly for a laugh. She looked so prim and proper and could talk it too but when she was acting the goat you just couldn’t help but laugh. She did have a heart of gold though and loved my parents dearly and would have done just about anything for any of us for what I remember.

Little did I know that our lovely country lifestyle at the cottage would soon be coming to an end? Oh yes, my Father worked all the hours God gave him, but it wasn’t going to be enough to stop the bank taking back the cottage. He’d been working real hard to finish jobs early in order to get the money coming in sooner, but could only get it in as fast as people were willing to pay him. My Father had been working for himself for quite a few years and had taken on a pretty large job. This job set him back a great deal of money, which would have all been ok had the people paid him upon completion. Though the clients didn’t pay and in turn it meant, no money came in to pay the bills. The bank decided they were taking the cottage back and gave my parents a specific date to vacate the cottage; I was losing the only home I had known.

I know thinking back I didn’t understand any of that at the time. As I was far too young, but I do remember how I felt packing up all my toys into boxes and not knowing why.

I also remember how I felt when my Mothers cousin came out to ring the chicken’s necks, and I cried for ages because he was killing all my pets. Though I guess, it was a must as we could hardly have taken them all with us.

Unknown to me we were going to live with my Nan my Mothers Mother, granted I loved my Nan even though she lived in the city in an old fashioned two roomed apartment at the time.

Though I knew, my life was about to change, and I wasn’t too sure whether I was going to like it.

Nan’s apartment was weird looking back now as the kitchen sink and cooker was at one side of the room with a recess on the opposite wall where her bed would sit. The rest of the room looked like a small dining/sitting area, with an old fashioned sideboard on one wall and a chair at the fireplace on the other wall. The other room, which was always locked up was her good sitting room and rarely ever used. We were certainly never allowed to enter that room at any time we had been to visit her in the past. The strangest thing of all was the toilet was out in the main stairwell, and would be Nan’s and the neighbours. There was certainly no shower or bath in that day in Nan’s apartment.

It’s pretty hard to imagine a home of any kind now a-days with no toilet or bathroom, but it sure was the way things were back in the day I guess.

Still Nan used to take us all on a Saturday morning to allow my parents to go shopping so I didn’t believe staying with her would be that bad. Plus she was usually fun to be around or at least most of the time. I remember she used to have a lot of comical costumes. She would dress up and wear this great long nose or elaborate glasses, or huge rubber breasts and would have the four of us kids in knots laughing. She had originally bought all this funny stuff, for some club or another that she had been a member of to dress up on occasions.

So I guess once I knew it was Nan we were going to live with I was likely ok about it. I knew at least that she would sit and play with us or let us out to play in her back garden, which was completely enclosed by a high brick wall.

I recall some Saturday’s when she looked after us she would take us to play hide-n-seek in this huge piece of waste ground that she called the Howie. God only knows why she gave it that name, and to this day I still don’t know why it got that name.

Mind you, she could be a right nark at times too if we did anything to upset her, or we got on her nerves. She would smack us and say, Your Mother’s getting told when she gets in. Then we would, usually, get another smack for being bad from one of our parents.

Still it’s where we were heading to live until my parents were sorted out and had found another home for us to live.

Though once we there it wasn’t that bad I don’t suppose; Jennifer and Jacqueline would sleep in Nan’s big bed along with her in the back room. My parents, Matt and I were in the front room, along with all Nan’s belongings, all my parent’s belongings and all our clothes and our toys.

The boxes were piled from floor to ceiling all over the room; the bed settee made up as a double bed against the one wall where my parents slept. My Mother would make a camp bed on the floor next to her for me to go to sleep, and Matt slept in the pram. Maybe it was not an ideal situation but it worked out ok for the time we were there, although the mornings could be a right nightmare.

Mother would, usually, be up early raking through box after box for clothes for us all to wear, whilst Nan would be making porridge and tea for breakfast. Father would get his breakfast first, of course because he needed to get to work. Then Mother would see to Jennifer and Jacqueline so as they were ready in time to attend the new school, which was just minutes up the street from Nan’s apartment. Then finally Mother would get herself ready as by this time she’d a fulltime job too, she had no other choice but to work if they were going to get another home of their own. Nan, of course, would be left to wash and dress Matt, and I then look after us all day until Mother got home from the chicken-processing factory where she worked.

I look back now and realise just how tough it had to be on my parents when they lost everything in the way they did. It must have been even harder sharing Nan’s small two-roomed apartment. Three adults and four kids in two rooms seem quite impossible to even imagine, but we did and more to the point we managed for what I remember.

I guess that was the start of my life changing for good, Mother having to go out to work five or six days a week, and us not seeing much of her either. It was not the same as not seeing our Father as we were all used to not seeing much of him during the week.

Nan looking after us all was definitely new and yes took getting used to. Even though, she was real good to us all and would take my Brother and I to the swing park on nice days, it just wasn’t the same. I sure did miss my Mother at that time in my life, and it took a long time to get used to her not being around during the day.

I used to get on Nan’s nerves at times as would always be asking, When’s Mother coming home. She used to say, She’ll be home when she’s home, now don’t ask again, but likely just minutes later I would ask again. I just didn’t understand why my Mother had to go out to work at that time. I sure as hell understand it all now though, as it had to be a real financial struggle bringing up four young children back then. Being that it’s a financial struggle for most people to bring up one youngster these days.

There was a big church right across the street from Nan’s apartment building. She’d often sit on the doorstep on a sunny day and allow my Sister’s and I across to play in the courtyard after they came home from school. We would play there for hours at time; some times Nan even came across and played with us.

I recall one time we were across playing hide and seek, I’d ran around the front of the church and found the door slightly open and went in to hide. I got the shock of my life when I did too; here were lines of strange boxes standing up on end, some with the lids completely off them. I just about jumped out of my skin, when this creepy old man appeared asking could he help me, he knew he had given me a scare too and laughed asking me was I all right. I had never seen anything like it before well not at that point in my life but I was interested to know what all the funny shaped boxes were. I remember asking the old man all sorts of strange and funny questions, of course, he was more interested in telling me that I shouldn’t be in there. I remember him telling me it wasn’t something a little boy should be seeing, and that my Nan would be upset if she knew I was there.

He was right too, because when I went home and told her she gave me a right telling off and said I’d not to go in and bother the man again.

I guess I was intrigued though, and me being me it wasn’t long before I was back talking to the old man again. He’d told me he was a cabinet-maker and showed me all types of work that he’d done from pieces of wood right through to the finished products and it really would fascinate me. For hours, I would be standing watching him, buffing and polishing the cabinets (coffins) or screwing on the shiny brass fixtures and fittings. I stood watching taking it all in until my Nan would be shouting at the top of her lungs, Sam where are you, time to come in, your Mother will be home soon. Then I would run home and tell her I was playing with kids at the other side of the church. I am pretty sure she never believed me but because I was back she didn’t say anything or give me into trouble.

I cannot remember how long we lived with Nan, I know it seemed like ages to me, but it likely hadn’t been that long really.

I never understood why our lives, was forever changing either, especially once my parents started talking of moving home once again. I do however remember my Father arriving home one evening after work and Mother, Nan and him sitting round the dining table in the centre of the floor. They were talking about the new house that had just been offered to them. My Mother seemed to be happy and Nan too for that matter as they sat discussing all the details. The offer of the house was from the local council and would be a rented house in the city, I heard my Father say we were all going to go and look at it after diner.

I suppose part of me was pretty excited about going to see the new house although part of me had settled at Nan’s now and didn’t want to move again. I remember asking Mother, When we move will Nan just come with us and live there too? No, your Nan has her place my Mother replied. I was pretty upset about having to move and leaving Nan behind, but I had no choice in the decision. I would be going to live with my parents and in whatever house my parents decided.

After finishing dinner we went to view the new house, and I believe we were all pleasantly surprised as it was quite a nice house really. It had a good-sized front garden and huge back garden for us to play in, and all the rooms downstairs seemed large too, for what we could see peering through the windows. Though the new house was at the opposite side of town from where Nan lived, and it felt like if we moved there I’d maybe never see her again. Silly I know but it’s what was going through my tiny mind at the time I guess.

My parents were getting to view the inside of the house within a day or two, and if they liked it, they intended to accept it and that would be the new home. Of course, my parents did like the inside of the house and did accept it, so we were on the move once again.

When us four kids finally got to go see the inside though, we liked it and were all fighting through each other to who would have what bedroom. There were three bedrooms in total, two large bedrooms and one slightly smaller; my parents were taking the large room to the front of the house. Because my sisters were the oldest, they would have the other large room facing out to the back garden. My Brother and I got the smaller one, though actually it wasn’t as small as it first seemed. It worked out pretty well really, cause my Brother, and I had bunks and ended up with more, free floor space than our sisters had.

It was quite strange when we first moved in though as we didn’t have a great deal of furnishings at the time. Yes, there were built in cupboards but not enough for all our clothes and toys. We never had carpets on the floors in fact it was linoleum on the bedroom floors for a long time and wooden stairs. Mother used to scrub the stairs every single morning with bleach to clean them before she left for work. Mind you, She would clean the entire house, top to bottom on a daily basis and all before starting her work. Thinking about it she’s still house proud to this day as still likes to clean her house daily.

The kitchen was huge, and we even had a proper bathroom small kind, but at least it was in the house. It amazed us all as it even had a bath, and I had not seen a bathroom with a bath and a toilet in it before at least not that I could remember.

Of course, these are all things taken for granted these days as a basic bathroom isn’t good enough now-a-days people now want luxury bathrooms.

My parents were both working full time and long hours at that, but would then come home and start doing bits and pieces in the house until eventually they had decorated the entire house. God only know where they got the energy from working all day to come home and then see to us four kids and then start decorating until late at night.

Even after the house got decorated I recall how we would all go out to the auction-rooms on a Friday evening, which were held out in the countryside. My parents would buy up old pieces of furniture for the house, wardrobes and chests of drawers for all the bedrooms. By the time, my Father had sorted and restored them and re-painted them they were like new pieces of furniture, better than half the rubbish on the market these days.

At the same time, they would buy up old tatty antique chairs and Father would work on restoring the wooden parts and Mother worked on the fabrics and recovered parts. In one week, they could have done two or three chairs and have them ready to be back in the following sale to make some extra cash.

I guess everything in my life did change though as we only ever seen Nan on Saturday’s after we moved into that house. Father would, usually, go and pick her up and take her over for the day then take her home again after supper normally. On Saturday’s that Father was working she would take the bus over to see us. I always looked forward to Saturday’s when Nan came across, as she would always take a pile of sweats with her for us.

Sunday’s were Grandma and Grandpa’s day to come up for the day those were my Father’s parents. It was, usually, quite fun at weekends whether Father was working or not, because we always had our Mother there and either Nan or Grandma and Grandpa. Mother never, usually, needed to work at the factory at weekends or at least not very often.

If it was nice weather I remember Mother and Nan would be out in the garden, Mother has always loved gardening and always had a beautifully laid out garden and more like a park. She would be out there remodelling the entire garden whilst us four kids played at weekends.

On bad weather, she would be in the kitchen baking or cooking, or through in the sitting room sewing little tartan dresses together to dress up dolls for selling. She even used to make her own patterns and cut out fur fabric to sew together and stuff to make stuffed toys for selling.

I don’t know where my Mother got all the time to do all she did, but I now know she must have been shattered most days by the time she went to bed.

Sunday’s would be as much fun when my Grandpa and Grandma came, though never quite the same as Saturday’s for some reason. Mind you I always used to think Sunday’s were boring that much hasn’t changed through the years, as I still think Sunday’s are pretty boring.

It didn’t take us long in settling into the house though and not long before we’d made a few new friends too. There were families and kids on both sides of us that we got friendly with, and we would get out to play together. There was a great huge piece of grass just across the street from us where our parents would let us all play.

We got ourselves another rabbit, Snowy we named it since it was pure white. We had all asked our parents to get another rabbit but have to admit none of us enjoyed cleaning out the cadge that it stayed in and more times than not it got left for me to do. That was until our next-door neighbour started fighting with my Father and poisoned it, which, of course, killed it.

The fighting only started because the neighbour’s oldest Son had let the hand-break off his Father’s truck, and it roll down the hill into the back of Father’s new car. Though why he felt he needed to poison our rabbit I will never know, it broke my heart when I went out to feed it one morning and found it lying there dead.

Even the other neighbour at the opposite side of us had a problem with us to begin with, although they ended up really nice friends in the end. That only came about because Father wanted to put a fence up between the two gardens. He wanted to enclose the front garden mainly to stop their poodle making a mess on Mothers grass and digging up her plants.

I will not ever forget that day; the neighbour Gil Fraser came out waving a shotgun in the air shouting at Father something about the fence. My Father about died there and then with having this shotgun pointing at him, but it eventually got resolved and they became the best of friends after that day.

Old Gil Fraser what a character, he was just a typical wheeler-dealer an old chancer type really, would sell his grandmother given half the chance. He was a car dealer, bought and sold cars from his door and would often take me with him to the car mart where he would purchase one or two. He had bought and sold cars all his life and would often have the Tax-Inspectors knocking on his door. He used to say I have never paid a penny tax in my life, and I’m too bloody old to start being honest now.

He’d often come up the back stairs of the house and knock at our back door, and when Mother answered the door, he would have a pack of fish, crabs or buckeyes to offer her. Not sure she ever took the crabs or buckeyes mind you as I certainly cannot remember ever eating them if she did.

Gil Fraser had a wife Mary and two daughters Claire and Susan though they were older than any of us kid’s, they were likely in their twenties. Claire took a liking to me though and would often lift me over a small wall that separated our back doors and would take me into their kitchen and make homemade popcorn. Then we would sit and stuff ourselves full or until my Mother was shouting out Sam, where are you?

Claire was a single Mother living at home with her parents; her Son Colin was younger than me as by now I was just about to start junior school. We were friends though for many years, though Claire eventually died at a very young age with some form of cancer well before Colin was even at junior school. Susan, of course, stepped in and became Mother to Colin and brought him up from there on after with the help of her parents.

I suppose my parents even played a part in that, as when Mother and Father took us four out they would always take Colin too. Whether it was to the park or down to the beach anywhere really, Colin would always come along he was more like an adopted Brother for many years.

Yes, I grew to love that house and especially in the winter when the snow came. Matt and I had little furry suits fitted from head to toe we must have looked like two little teddy bears out playing in the snow. I guess I loved that time of year as it meant Christmas was near by and hell yes I used to love Christmas time.

Isn’t it weird how Christmas always seems to take forever to get here when you’re a kid though, yet now it’s here before you realise it.

Our first Christmas at that house was great though I remember plenty of Christmas’s and happy occasions at that home when I think about it. The first one I remember especially well as I had a little radio that used to sit on the windowsill so as I could listen to music in bed through an ear piece without my parents knowing. I’d awakened real early and plugged in my earpiece and switched the radio on long before anyone was out of bed let alone awake. The Christmas song playing was Merry Christmas Everybody, by Slade and right away I knew Christmas Day had arrived. Up I jumped and wakened my Brother, then through and wakened Jennifer and Jacqueline, and then my parents. I remember Mother saying, No, go back to bed, and we will shout you through in a little while, it’s only six-thirty in the morning. Yes, I’d got everyone up, and it was only 6.30 am, I guess I was so excited that it was Christmas, which meant Santa had been.

Though once Mother got up and made a cup of tea to both of them, she shouted us four kids through. We all dashed into their bedroom to find all our presents from Santa were in rows at the foot of their bed.

I will never forget that Christmas it was one of the happiest days of my life as were all Christmases really. They were always so full of love when I think back on them all now, and I still remember all of them so clear.

Not that we were spoiled, like the brats of today, but we sure didn’t want for anything at Christmas time. I believe we got just about everything we had asked for most years, and I know we certainly appreciated everything a sight more than the kids of today do.

Being that I was born and brought up the first few years, in the countryside and I guess with my parents knowing how much I missed it. Matt and I got a huge farm set, tractors and trailers, fencing and just about every kind of animal you could imagine. I got a complete Lego sets, and Matt got a car garage since he loved playing with his cars. The list could go on and on for the amount of toys we got, so ok maybe we were a bit spoiled at Christmas time.

My Sister’s were also as happy with everything they had got just as Matt and I were; we were all really over the moon with what Santa had left us.

Father would then get up and go for Grandma and Grandpa as we would always have them for lunch on Christmas Day, and Nan used to come on Boxing Day.

Whilst Father was away picking them up, Mother would be lighting the coal fire and seeing to our breakfast before starting to prepare a Christmas dinner and to set the table. Christmas at our house was always fantastic the