Fresh Beginnings

Dear Diary...There were times in my life where I never thought I'd settle down, constantly searching for new challenges, wanting to experience as much as possible, after all we're only on this planet for the duration that fate allows us, so why would I want to settle for second best. It wasn't that I purposely went out of my way to hurt anyone, or upset them, but I'd get excited when meeting new people and discovering a new way of thinking, which is why I started to question my second marriage. We were both moving in different circles which was one of the main problems, but also I was starting to get itchy feet feeling I was in a rut, desperate to be able to breathe again, knowing only I could make the changes to seeking a new way of life.

 

Taking the plunge back in 1997 led me on a journey of property discovery, what an adventure that was. I looked at many different houses, discovering that I had many choices, whether to buy a house to share with a stranger, using the rent to pay the mortgage, or to live alone with my son and work all the hours I could, I opted to buy alone in the end.

 

Buying my very own first house completely on my own I felt would be better, because no body could ever tell me how to live my life again. It was an exciting time of course, but also a lot of stress which I could have done without considering my situation, but then I had nobody else to blame but myself. Getting divorced for the second time was my choice, so I'd have to pay the price, which I have to say turned out to be more strenuous than I'd first anticipated.

 

I'd been working a Christmas job in a factory packing hampers for a number of years, I kept going back every August up to Christmas in order to earn some extra money for presents. We were also given a meat hamper just before Christmas which was an extra bonus. I know it's not every ones cup of tea and some might say it was boring, but I loved it, not minding the monotony of placing items in a box all day, in fact my favorite job was loading boxes onto the line, which I took pride in the fact I could keep up to six lines going at a time, and was one of the quickest line feeders.

 

The majority of the people were brilliant too, even though there were some idiots, who thought it was fun to mess around, like putting chewing gum in the hampers, or opening bags of sweets and emptying them into the hampers. I was lucky enough to get on with all the supervisors throughout my time working there. But this was all about to change.

 

I needed a full time job desperately if I was to get a mortgage. Hearing through the grapevine from one of my co workers that there was a night time job going at a factory producing car parts for Honda, I decided to go along and find out what the position entailed, but to be honest I was desperate for anything that would pay good money.

 

Going for the interview was no problem at all, I put my best foot forward and of course my best speaking voice. After I'd answered a multitude of questions about myself and filled out a number of forms, I was told on the spot that I had the job, but would have to work a month in hand before I would be paid. Now! To be honest, I never had a penny to my name at the time and wasn't quite sure how I'd get through the month.

 

Luckily for me a guy I knew who was a postman and drank in the same watering hole as me, offered to lend me a hundred pounds, well I was so thankful to him, promising the guy faithfully that as soon as I was paid he'd get his money back. The hundred pounds did get me just about through the month, but I had to scrimp and we lived on barely anything for that first month, mainly our food would consist of the cheapest bread I could get, big bags of potatoes, the cheapest fish fingers and sausages.

 

Because I was now working nights full time, I'd did managed to get a mortgage. Me and my son spent a good deal of time house hunting, or when he was at school, I went looking on my own. I was lucky enough to find a house in the center of town that suited my needs, the couple that owned the terraced house were emigrating to Australia and wanted to leave their furniture behind, so there I was ready to move into my fully furnished house with my son.

 

There was a huge pink bathroom upstairs, not exactly the color I would choose, but hey! Beggars can't be choosers. There was a bedroom next door that I fell in love with the moment I saw it, with its old antique fire place that I eventually got around to painting, it looked great with candles burning on the mantle piece at night and was such a pleasant change from what I'd been used to.

 

I was a bit dubious about sleeping in their double bed they left, at first just thinking about what they might have been doing in it...the mind boggles! Also I had to move about to avoid the springs that would poke through the mattress, but I didn't have much choice, it was either that or the floor.

 

My son was very lucky to have the huge bedroom at the front of the house, I wasn't interested in the size, I just liked the quaintness of the back bedroom which looked out over the garden with its huge window.

 

 

But then came the awful reality of my situation, I can't begin to explain how hard it was, I was not only holding down a full time night job, but also three hours of early morning cleaning at two shops in the center of town, plus also at one point to start with an evening cleaning job too, but that didn't last more than a couple of months, I was too knackered to keep it up.

 

Then there was my teenage son, who although I tried my best to lay down ground rules, seemed to let it go in one ear and out the other so to speak. Yes! It was tough, but very rewarding, because at the end of the day, my house was mine and as long as I paid the mortgage and bills, nobody could take it away from me.

 

We did have a problem on the first week of moving in, water started to come through the ceiling, I was in a right state with buckets on the landing. Calling out a plumber was a nightmare too, it cost me a small fortune, then to be told the roof needed repairing. Well! I was in pieces and felt so deflated, but knew the only option was to take on the extra part time cleaning jobs and get the roof fixed and the many other jobs that needed doing.

 

The factory where I worked from 10pm till 6am, made molding parts for Honda cars, it wasn't the most exciting job in the world, but paid well, but I did work a lot of weekends doing twelve hour shifts, so to begin with a lot of the time I had no social life at all and a teenage son that did go off the rails, but looking back I can understand how distressed he must have felt being left on his own in the house at night while I was out working.

 

When I first started work in the mold shop, we would be set to work on various machines that pumped out moldings and had to be perfect, but very rarely were, which meant not only being quick, but having to have an eagle eye. The rubbish would then be dumped in one bin and had to be accounted for, so much went to waste, which made the work even more complicated, due to the fact we would have to write out the reason why the moldings weren't okay.

 

The guy that trained me up was only twenty one and so patient, he would say; “I don't mind how many times you have to ask, if you're not sure of something, don't be afraid to speak up.”

 

It was so sad when one day we read in the paper that he'd been run over on a drunken night out with his mates. Apparently he was walking home in the early hours of the morning drunk and out of his head, down the middle of the dual carriageway, but didn't realize he was in the center of the road, the poor driver that killed him didn't have time to break, I can't imagine how the poor guy must have felt afterwards.

 

After that happened nothing was the same again, I was always being told; I wasn't fast enough, or not careful enough. It was a job that not only tested the eyesight, but the speed in which you had to work to get out so many moldings a night. Not only that, but I was one of only three woman in there on nights, getting constantly get teased and harassed, I had to really harden up, otherwise I'd of spent most of my nights in tears.

 

Eventually though, I'd had enough of all the shit that was being thrown at me and when a woman left another part of the factory, I asked if I could be transferred to do her job, to my great relief the position was given to me and my new boss was brilliant, leaving me to put contacts on to a machine, where they would be set into a molding for part of the door locks on cars. I so enjoyed that job and never minded working nights again, mainly because I was able to sit down instead of standing all night, also I was now working with another girl called Jane.

 

I remember me and Jane were working together on the Saturday night that Princess Diana was in the car crash. Listening to the radio, we were both stunned, looking up at each other at the same time when the news came later that she was dead, well, I just had to down tools rushing to the toilets to cry like it had happened to a best friend. The whole factory as I remember was in shock with the news of her death.

 

There was one guy down the mold shop that did help me out a lot with odd jobs that needed doing around my house, like putting a cat flap in the back door for my three cats, also putting up shelves. He just couldn't work out how I kept going, coming home from work at around 6.30am every day, getting my son up for school. Then I had to be at my cleaning jobs for 8.30am. I'd vacuumed the shop floor and cleaned the toilets in a ladies clothes shop in town, then did the same at Dixon's. It would be midday before I would enter Sainsbury's bleary eyed, do some food shopping, then wander home looking like a zombie ready for flopping into bed.

 

Usually I would get around four to five hours sleep, depending on how quickly I nodded off, then have to get up and get dinner ready, then the whole process would start all over again, day in, day out.

 

One evening my car wouldn't start much to my annoyance, honestly I could have cried, it was either a case of getting a taxi or walking, I chose to walk. Now this meant having to wander through what was quite a rough area at the time, where there were drugs and prostitutes, but thankfully they've now cleaned the area up.

 

Making my way across town, towards the railway station, I then proceeded on towards the bridge which led to the main road, when In the distance I could see a figure with arms flaying around. I was slightly nervous as there were no other people about, but it was the quickest way to get to where I needed to walk along the grass verge, as there wasn't a pavement.

 

As I got closer, I noticed a girl in a very short skirt and denim jacket which was attached to some railings, she was getting in a right panic. I presumed she was a prostitute by her manner and thought maybe a punter had slipped her denim jacket over the railings, because she couldn't get off and was swearing like a trooper. When she saw me coming on the other side of the road, I remember her words well.

 

“Hey! Lady, get me the fuck off these railings.” Her stance was threatening and it was nearly 9.45pm, to say I was scared was an understatement. Although I felt sorry for her and she seemed desperate, I thought she could be dangerous.

 

I didn't look at her, but just kept on walking. I was afraid she might attack me if I got involved, she seemed that type. As I carried on, my heart beating fast, I could hear her swearing even more at me and letting me know how angry she was. Boy! Was I glad when I reached the main road.

 

When I got to work, Jane said I was sensible not to get involved, but couldn't understand why I didn't get a taxi...I definitely would next time.

 

To be continued...