HOPE Embraced

CHAPTER 1

Alyss & Deidre

A new place to live, a case of clothes and herself, that was all; the move had been made. She must not look back.

As Alyss prepared to put away her few belongings, she gazed around the room. Luxurious, it was not. The Peters had bought an extra second-hand bed so now there were two, separated by a well-worn rug. The dressing table and wardrobe took up the remaining space, there was no room for a chair. The walls and ceiling had been painted long ago but the faded curtains at least had been washed. They hung from a bowed metal rod. Deidre had been here for seven years; now it would be her home, too, shared with her sister.

‘Oh heck, have I really done the right thing?’

Momentary doubts flashed into her consciousness. They stabbed at her conscience. Leaving the BCNW, the Brethren of Christ’s New World sect, was an enormous step to take. Now she was a pariah, a heretic no longer acceptable for Christian fellowship, an awful prospect.

‘Will this really be better? Will I later come to regret it? Ohhh!’

 

It had not been all bad back there. Alyss had to admit that some of the Brethren people had been lovely to her. Miss Dennis had made her feel special, not a wayward waif to be harshly disciplined as had Aunt Iris. And poor Mr Burgess. He had been so good over the years, to all of them. He had almost cried when she said she was leaving. The Brethren genuinely felt concern for the moral and spiritual welfare of any young person breaking out from the safe-haven of the Fellowship and tried hard to dissuade them. It was the other things that made her decide it was too much and she must break away. Aunt Iris’s violence, inimical as it was to the tenets of the Fellowship, had spoiled it for her. The priests strained often to “cover” so much of Iris’s bad behaviour!

‘Oh, yes.’ she quickly affirmed. ‘Yes, I have. I couldn’t stay any longer, I’m absolutely sure of it. It had to be done.’

She sighed with satisfaction and smiled at her own boldness. That in itself was uncharacteristic.

“All the harsh criticisms, her hitting me with that wretched copper-stick and the ironing cord. Discipline, she called it. Discipline? And the hardheartedness of Joyce and Adrian when I lived with them and couldn’t expound what I’d gleaned “spiritually” from the church meetings, too; that was so unfair! No, I couldn’t stay.”

Her thoughts were racing, making her pant. She looked around the room and focussed on the dressing table mirror.

‘A proper mirror, at last! How good is that!’

She gazed at her reflection, lifting her head, standing erect and twirling slowly around, her dark, curly hair swirling. The mirror was full height so she could see all of herself at once. At least she would now be able to groom herself properly, see herself as others saw her. Aunt Iris’s notion that mirrors promote pride and are therefore unholy must be relegated to her rejected past.

Seven years she had endured it. There had been enough of the constant overriding of her own needs, feelings and desires. Anger and frustration had overcome her shyness so, for once, just this once, she had made a major decision herself and acted on it. It was a momentous decision that would change the whole course of her life and she was not yet seventeen. It had not been easy.

Wrongly, someone might have thought of her as a rebellious and thankless teenager but she’d never been that. She had right values and she knew it. Pity others had not always seen it, especially Aunt Iris and Joyce, her oldest sister. Why had they not seen her true character?

“And this house, will I be safe, here? Will it provide the shelter I need? How can I be certain? I can’t; I just have to hope. There was no other option. It was the risk I had to take. Don’t doubt it!”

So, Fairfield! This was Aunt Flora’s and Uncle Willson Peters’ place and they had agreed to take her in and give her a home when she called but living here would be very different from what she had left. It was far from ideal but she was determined to make the most of it, no matter how much she longed for better.

It was a place, somewhere to come home to that was hers. Living here would be a balancing act, the need to be polite but somehow not allow them to dominate her or overcome her own values and beliefs.

She nodded again as she mentally affirmed this resolution.

It was good to be back with her young sister again, but much had changed. Previously so dependent upon her but obviously no longer so, Deidre had grown, now almost fourteen and taller than she was.

Still being a Ward-of-the-State, Alyss knew Aunt Flora had taken on Deidre’s guardianship. It made her wonder, now that she would be living with them and under their authority, how these people would treat her or try to influence her, especially with Aunt Flora’s despisal of religion. How would she relate to this woman, older sister to her deceased mother?

Then there was Uncle Willson who, on her earlier visit, had touched her, fingered her, penetrated her young body disgustingly whilst she slept. It must never happen again! Ironically, she would now be living under his very roof, but this she already had factored into her calculations. Thank God for the bedroom door key! Nevertheless, Flora insisted the girls kiss both of them Goodnight. Lustfully, Willson would turn his head just at the critical moment and collect the kiss right on his hungry, wet lips. With no evidence of guilt, shame or remorse, the wretched man just expected it. Alyss hated this.

“He’s a reprehensible, dirty-old-man! And Aunt Flora? Gosh!” she ruminated. “She must’ve known of his activities and did nothing to stop him. Urghh!”

She would have to be extra careful. She had very firm ideas about moral matters and was determined to keep herself safe. The more she learned, the more she was determined that sexual looseness would never be a part of her makeup.

‘Well Alyss, Deidre’s really happy for you to be here with us and to share her room with you. So, I hope you’ll like that; I’m sure you will. Far better being with family than with those horrible, religious people you’ve had to leave. You know where everything is in the house, but of course, you’ll need to pay board now that you’re working. That would only be right.’

‘Of course, Aunt Flora. I fully intended to do that.’

‘So, what did you give your sister, Joyce, then?’

‘Oh, she was tough. She took half my wages!’ Alyss blurted out before thinking.

‘Oh, did she? Well, I can’t see why that shouldn’t continue. Hmmm! If it was good enough there, Alyss, it’d be good enough here. We’ll have to provide meals and laundry, accommodation and everything for you so, yes, the same as what you were giving your sister would be suitable.’

Alyss looked at her new guardian. The woman was making her welcome, but immediately raising the matter of board money. Great!

‘All right, then. That’s sorted out. Do you need anything, else?’

As always: politeness! Once again Alyss had responded politely, acquiescing without contention. It had become her way of survival, but was quite different to the feeling she held inside. Her problem was that she had not yet learned the art of thinking ahead and being prepared to fob off unwanted demands. Unable to refuse she had little option but to answer truthfully and accept Aunt Flora’s demand.

“Are these women all the same, just thinking of money?”

She shuddered as she tried to hide her hurt and aggravation. She ignored the anti-religion remark. This obligation left her with very little to cover her fares, purchase clothes, pay for entertainment, such as it was, and save for gifts. And shoes! She had had enough problems from wearing her sisters’ hand-me-downs; a pair of good walking shoes was the first item she must buy. She’d like a pair of heels, too.

Without need for external supervision, within her resided a very strict nanny to keep her on track. Her rational self admonished her:

“Yes, Alyss, they’ve taken you in and given you a place to live. You mustn’t criticise, but pay your way and be grateful.” Such thoughts didn’t quash her emotions, it was just stating the truth, logic over hurt. “Aunt Flora’s income would likely be small, so I guess it’s needed.”

‘No, there’s nothing I can think of just now. Thank you again for having me. I’ll do my best not to be a hindrance or get in the way.’

Alyss smiled but returned to her thoughts:

“Board money! Aunt Iris demanded half of Joyce’s and Eleanor’s wages once they’d gone to work, too, but then she was a sole foster-parent, she had very little money of her own, so that was different.”

Aunt Iris having entered her thoughts she mused over the woman’s contradictions.

“So often angry. Ugh! But when she wasn’t, she could be very sensible, and nice, too, surprisingly. She constantly encouraged wise handling and saving of money. It had been good advice. But then, she had so little, herself. Pity she was so volatile, silly woman!”

This story continues in the book…here

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