Blood Ties: Family is not always a place of safety
Family is not always a place of safety.Kathleen was just eight years old when her mother was tragically killed in a car accident. And when her father remarries it is to the bitter and resentful Irene who has two children of her own and no space in her heart for another. Irene goes out of her way to make Kathleen's life as miserable as possible and will stop at nothing to get her out of their lives…When Kathleen is sixteen, a shocking incident rocks the family, and life takes a darker turn.Among this darkness, Kathleen finds a glimmer of hope in an older man, but Irene is ruthless in her mission to destroy her.Can Kathleen find happiness or is she destined for tragedy?
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Certain details in this story, including names, places and dates, have been changed to protect the family’s privacy.
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First published by HarperElement 2016
FIRST EDITION
© Julie Shaw and Lynne Barrett-Lee 2016
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Front cover photograph © Sarah Monrose/Gallery Stock
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Source ISBN: 9780008142919
Ebook Edition © February 2016 ISBN: 9780008142872
Version: 2015-12-04
Family is everything. It is the be all and end all, and I have the very best. My husband, my kids, my parents, siblings and all the rest of the clan, I love them all so much. However, the bond between a mum and her daughter is very special. The cord that once bound daughter to mum before birth never really breaks. No matter how far apart they might be, that invisible tether just gets stronger and I’d like to dedicate this book to my beautiful, brave cousin, Tanya Jagger, who is currently fighting the battle of her life, and her equally brave mam, Pauline Jagger, who has endured far more than she could ever deserve.
My darling daughter, don’t you grieve.
I have not really gone,
It’s hard right now, but please believe,
I’ve been here all along.
I’ve watched with pride, how much you’ve grown,
I’ve shared your smiles and laughter,
I’ve felt your pain when you’ve been alone,
Praying for your happy ever after.
I thought I had more time with you,
Hoped we’d never be apart,
You make me proud, you really do,
I love you, my sweetheart.
Bradford, August 1965
Kathleen was used to being invisible. In fact, she liked it that way, because when people didn’t see you, they couldn’t hurt you. It never lasted, though; it didn’t matter that she was curled up tightly on the couch, saying nothing; she knew it would only be a matter of time before her stepmother noticed her anyway.
Irene was screaming at Kathleen’s dad when it happened. ‘And what are you frigging staring at, you nosy little get?’ she yelled at Kathleen, her fat bosom heaving as she puffed herself up and pointed. ‘I bet you’re bleeding loving this, aren’t you? Him!’ She jabbed a finger towards her husband. ‘Picking on my poor Darren again!’
Kathleen hung her head, letting her hair provide a safety curtain, wondering how anyone could ‘love’ such a scene. Irene was now jabbing her finger into Kathleen’s dad’s side, and that was definitely a bad sign – it meant her stepmum was after a fight. The question wasn’t really a question, and she knew better than to try to answer anyway. She was just another target at which Irene could vent her anger. She drew in her breath – another reflex – and silently prayed that her dad would step in and take the attention back away from her.
John’s tone always grew quieter the more Irene’s increased in volume. Sometimes Kathleen thought this might be a good way to calm things down. At other times, she just wished he’d shout back louder. ‘Can’t you see what he’s doing, love?’ her father now said quietly. ‘It seems that everyone and his horse knows what’s going on but you. The lad’s got gambling fever, Irene!’ he added, with just a slight edge of exasperation. ‘He can’t possibly lose his wages every frigging Friday, can he? Every frigging week? Love, come on.’
Kathleen’s eyes widened in disbelief. Was he spoiling for a fight as much as she was? Yes, she was happy her dad had deflected Irene’s attention back to him again, but accusing her stepbrother of having gambling fever was going to rile Irene even more. She wished she could slip away, hole up in her bedroom – well, if bloody Monica wasn’t in there, anyway – but her way was blocked and, besides, she knew all too well that if she moved, she’d just become the target of Irene’s fury once again. She needed precious little encouragement to yell at her at the best of times.
