Daring to Dream by Sam Bailey Read Free Book Online Page B

some young French girl would come knocking on the door with a baby in her arms.
    We had one girl staying who was about 15 and she was absolutely stunning. Danny really liked her and he was desperate to impress her. He was playing drums in a band down at the youth club, so he invited her along hoping that she’d think he was some kind of rock star. He’d been boasting to everyone about how amazing she was but when she turned up she was wearing a short skirt and clearly wasn’t a fan of shaving. She had these really thick dark hairs covering her legs and once he saw them their romance was over before it had even begun.
    In the end it turned out it wasn’t the students Mum needed to watch out for when it came to Danny – it was the local girls. He’d been seeing a girl – we’ll call her Jane – for afew months when she fell pregnant and eventually they had a son called Jason.
    College was going well but after about six months I felt frustrated because I wanted to really get my teeth into something. I wanted to perform full time, so I applied to be a Redcoat at Butlins. I was really panicking about the audition and so Dad said he would come along with me and hold my hand. We travelled on the train to Minehead, which was quite a trek, and I asked my dad not to drink beforehand but promised I’d get him some beers for the train journey home. I kept my promise and when we got back to Albany Park station I headed to Darren’s and Dad went home. A couple of hours later I got a phone call saying that Dad was in hospital – he’d fallen down a pothole outside our house and broken his leg in two places because he was drunk. He was in full plaster and from that day on he started to go even more downhill both mentally and physically. He couldn’t walk for several weeks, and when he eventually got the plaster off, his leg didn’t heal properly. It was very thin and had no muscle strength left in it, so he was in constant pain and let himself go more than ever. He didn’t wash and he grew a big beard so he didn’t have to bother to shave.
    Rather than fight it and try and get help from the doctor to help heal his leg, he pretty much gave in. My mum was buying him beers all the time and making his dinner and all he did was sit around watching TV and feeling sorry for himself. My parents were arguing more than ever and as aresult I pretty much lived round at Darren’s house so I could escape from it all.
    Because Dad’s leg was so bad he used to crawl up the stairs when he needed to go to the toilet. But sometimes he’d be so drunk he wouldn’t get there in time and he’d wet himself. He once weed in a plant pot because he was so hammered he couldn’t move from the sofa. It was like he’d totally given up. He got so down that everything became a bit too much for him. It was so hard for my mum. She was out working and then she’d have to come home and cook and clean and look after him and of all of his tag-alongs, who would sit in the front room boozing and being loud. It was like a piece of my dad had broken along with his leg. I barely even recognised him.
    I tried to talk to him and get him to see sense many times. I’d shout at him to pull himself together and we’d end up having a barney because I was so frustrated that he wouldn’t help himself. He’d always been the person I looked up to, who helped to provide for his family and was strong, and now my mum had to do everything on her own. I’d beg him to sort himself out, but all he used to say was, ‘Ring me from Barbados!’ That was his way of telling me to live a bit before I tried to tell him what to do. His attitude was ‘When you know a bit more about life and you’ve been around the world, then you can lecture me’. It was hard to see him falling apart but I knew that if he wanted to get better, he was the only one who could help himself.
    Mum