Alex is in plaster

Saying 'no' Loud and Clear

Alex is in plaster. He broke his foot whilst doing athletics at school last week. This is the second time in six months. This time it is the opposite foot, so I suppose there is some sort of balance to it. But, he’s frustrated and sad. Like most children he loves sport, and is feeling upset that he won’t be able to take part for many weeks to come. Guy is furious with the school; neither of us feels that enough care has been taken for our child to have broken bones twice whilst in their care. I think, too, that Guy is angry that just as we remove one strain from our lives, that is that Will is no longer living here, Alex needs extra attention.

I am concerned that Alex is suffering. He was mugged in April, and has had a discus dropped on his foot two weeks later. He has been seeing the school counsellor to help him over the mugging. He says that he is looking around him now as he walks along the street, to see who may be about to pounce. I remember when Jack was mugged whilst waiting for a friend on a railway station; he was hit around the face and threatened. He was about the same age – 13. Jack was nervous for a long time, and saw a counsellor too. When we walked together he would often be looking for me out of the corner of his eye, just to make sure I was still there. Now it’s happening again with our youngest.

Alex first asked if he could have counselling back in January this year.

‘So I can let it all out about Will. I’ve got a lot to say, I think it would be good for me.’

I asked at our local surgery, but no appointment came. After chasing it up twice, I gave up. I’m not sure why I go to that GP practice, I think it’s because I don’t have the time to change, but probably should.

He has been talking to the school counsellor about the mugging but also about Will, and the counsellor has told him that the mugging has re-opened old wounds – he was stolen from by his brother and now stolen from by strangers. They have also discussed the fact that he feels he needs to be good at home, so he doesn’t add to our stress, and that he sees his role as peacemaker.

We were standing in the kitchen when he told me this, I was about to put the kettle on so we could have a cuppa together. I put my arms around him and apologised, saying that he doesn’t always have to be good and if he wants to be naughty to go ahead. Alex grinned then, and gave me a kiss.

‘It’s okay, mum, I don’t want to be’.

But he seemed sad, then.

‘You know that talking about things can make you feel worse at first, but later you do feel better. It’s not always immediate though’ I said, looking anxiously at him.

He said he understood, and began chatting about how I’d like his counsellor – and maybe I knew her? Catherine van de Something. No, I said, I didn’t.

‘Well, you know I told her you’d been writing about our family and she said ‘Not Debra Bell – is that your mum? I’ve read some of her Diaries in the paper’ I said yes it was – so how about that mum, she’d heard of you. I was really proud!’

We both smiled, and I was amazed that this woman had heard of me. She would have known more about Alex than Alex had told her, too, if she’d read the Diaries, which could mean that she could leap-frog a little when talking to him.

It’s funny because when Guy and I were discussing whether Will should be asked to leave the house last time, Guy talked about the effects of the family’s situation on the other boys. He’s always talked like this, saying we have to protect them.

‘You know what it was like for you in your childhood, living with trauma, and how you say it affected you. I remember you saying how you used to hide away, but you could hear your step-father beating your sister and how awful that was, how it’s stayed with you. You have to be careful with kids.’

I knew he was right, but it wasn’t something I was particularly focused on, because I could see how loved our kids were and how much abundance was in their lives. Guy was right, of course, just because kids were from privileged backgrounds didn’t mean they couldn’t be damaged.

‘Look at it this way. If social services looked at our family and saw how our 19 year old steals from our 13 year old and causes such heart-ache for the whole family, they could choose to remove him from us. Alex has asked for counselling for Christ’s sake, what are we saying here? That has upset me more than anything - our 13 year old needs to see a counsellor. What exactly are we doing here?’

I knew he was right, and this made our decision to exclude Will much easier for me.

There is also something in my life now which has helped me deal with Will in a much firmer way – creating even clearer boundaries which must be good for Will as much as for myself. I knew that getting Lily, our new puppy, would be beneficial – but was unsure as to how. I can see now think that drug addicts and dogs are not dissimilar. They both want instant gratification, and then they are on to the next thing.

If I let her, Lily, who is just three months old, would use this house as her playground. I am learning to give commands and expect her to obey. ‘Sit’ , and ‘No’ are all needed to create firm boundaries otherwise you have chaos. You still love them madly, but it’s all very clear who is in charge here. This is all so new to me. I think it’s something we’ve lost in modern parenting – either because parents are working, so therefore feel guilty and give and give in too much, or whether, like myself, they just feel they want to be very loving, child-centred parents and to take their cue from them. This was backed up by the books I was reading at the time about child rearing. I think we need more of this black and white clarity when dealing with our kids.

Now, with Will, I find it easier to say ‘No’, and then possibly negotiate (or not). Before I would always say ‘Yes’, and then negotiate which meant I was in a weaker position, and it was exhausting too trying to backtrack and feeling guilty and confused. I needed to learn to let Will sort out his own problems – by taking them on that doesn’t help anyone. It is more clear-cut with him anyway, now. He is no longer at college – nor on any course, nor does he live with us. We have told him that any requests for money need to be made through his father, and that we will buy him food and clothes if he needs, but we will give him no more cash.

Last time he came to the house he told me, as he was leaving, and we were standing in the front garden watching Lily leaping into the bushes, that he needed money, and I repeated that he needed to talk to his father about that. He then said that he had a cheque from the DSS but nowhere to pay it in, his bank account was closed. I presumed he meant that there was still an ongoing check on the fraud he’d reported whilst I had been with him in the bank last month.

I told him to open a savings account but he said that he had a zero credit rating so couldn’t. He went then, I wondering whether he would ever simplify his life. Calling for Lily to come in, I closed the front door and then noticed a letter on the table in the living room. It was one of Will’s that he had just opened. Irritated that he leaves things here still, I picked it up and read that it was a demand from his bank to pay off the amount he owes, which is now nearly £300.00 with interest accruing constantly. No mention of an enquiry into the fraud he was maintaining was made against his account. So there had been no ‘scam’ as he had put it. Good of them not to prosecute him I suppose.

I took the letter with me when he called an hour later to say he had locked himself out of his room and could | bring a ladder down to help him get through his open bedroom window. Oh, god – what next?

Jack and I drove down with a ladder in the boot, and I then came over all puppy-mum like when I saw him. I thrust the bank’s letter into his hand and told him to sort it.

‘You have a cheque you say. You need to pay it into here and clear this amount owing. You’re still using our home address for your own, this could affect our own credit rating, so if you don’t do it for yourself, do it for us. I’m this close to cutting you off completely- so get it sorted’ I motioned with my thumb and my first finger as I said this, then turned and got into my car and drove away.

He rang later to say he’d deposited the cheque in his bank and had made an arrangement to pay off the debt. I told him I was glad he’d done this and taken responsibility, but silently wondering how he was going to do that when he was on benefit only and has no other income. No mention from him of that day when I stood by him as he made the call to the fraud department, to report a theft on his account. I didn’t mention it either.

He rang the next day, crying, saying he had no money and did I know what that was like for him. I took him down some Tesco vouchers that had just arrived, £24.00 worth – so he could eat at least.

He rang over the weekend to say he’d been attacked by 20 people at a party in Notting Hill, and beaten up. I saw him yesterday and he has a black eye, which is just discernible. I asked him what they took.

‘Nothing, there was nothing to take’ he said looking down at his mobile phone in his hand. Oh, that’s right you have no money, I’m thinking.

I don’t know how to talk to him anymore. Most things he says are lies, so how can I have a relationship with him based on lies? It silences me. Curious. Jack says that Lily is a symbol that we are moving on as a family, and sends out clear messages to Will. One thing is obvious - she has brought us all closer together and even Guy has to admit that she’s very beautiful. People stop us a lot to smile and say how gorgeous she is. She has brought a lot of joy to us, and to others too. We begin dog-training lessons in Greenwich Park this morning! Moving on.