I continued to struggle with finances and so as well as the gardening and the part time school job which was only a few hours, as well as the freelance work which I didn’t charge much for after my earlier mistake, I got a delivery driver job for a takeaway in my old town, this job through its course brought me great joy and helped my communication skills, I also worked for Homebase in their Garden Centre, and I started a Kleeneze round. My boss at the big house nagged me about being slow and told me I needed to learn to cook and eat properly, and as she was correct, I got myself a slow cooker and cooked stews while I was out at work, someone gave me a bread maker and so bread and stew started to happen and I felt a bit better.
I wasn't paid by the big house, I worked in return for the cottage, and if anything is a drag, working in order to keep a massive derelict cottage running is, especially if you have many problems and little help.
I broke up with G. during my
time at this cottage, we had got on so well and he had been and stayed
over at the cottage with me, in my spare room, he and I behaved
ourselves when alone in the cottage, there was no lovemaking, we
wrestled as we sometimes did, had pillow fights wearing pyjamas, and
talked a lot, I do not know if G. would have been capable of making
love, and I certainly didn’t try to find out, nor did he, JM really
really hurt and infuriated me in her making me out to be a nymphomaniac,
I didn’t even sleep with my own boyfriend in my own home!
I cannot come
to terms with sex outside of marriage, I do not care that people call
me old fashioned or a prude, who are they to judge when Jesus believed
Anyway, G. was good company and dug my front garden,
but he was actually scared of being away from home, he was a simple
gentle soul, our relationship was about love and company, and that is
all I would ever want, I am simply not able to have a sexual
relationship, I feel ashamed of that compared to my brothers and sisters
who overrode my parents’ teachings on immorality and I cannot, but that
is how it is, a mixture of ethics and being too hurt or autistic to
cope with the physical side of things.
Anyway, G. and my
relationship ended when things got difficult after he lost his job, he
started to hang around with a wild bunch of teenagers who were either
playing truant or avoiding doing any sort of work, these teenagers were
not too nice to me, and they managed to get my phone number from G.
and because he had told them that I did air rifle pest control on the
estate, they kept phoning me and screaming ‘bunny murderer’ and
‘murderer’ at me, and similar and just ringing and ringing and laughing
at me , and I started getting pornography and porn catalogues sent to me
through the post, I have no proof that this was them but it certainly
was their style, I cannot imagine what got into G. to hang out with
these tykes, he was a gentle innocent caring lad who looked after an old
blind neighbour of his, they were thieves, troublemakers, vandals;
G. could have made much better friends than them. But I guess he was vulnerable.
After my breakup
with G. I remained single until my relationship with ***** in Jersey
5 years or so years late; decent single men who don’t prioritise sex
are very scarce.
God never sent me the husband I prayed for and that my
parents prayed for for me, instead I have been condemned by the church
for being single and vulnerable, and I know now that I will never have a
husband or raise children, I will never be anything but ruined and
homeless. And my autism means the sensory disturbances that children
cause me mean I could never be a mother.
It was heartbreaking to realise all this, when I was in Jersey, when the churchwarden and his church magnified my condition and made it out to be very bad, that was when I lost my dreams of marrying and having ab home.
Problems with extra work, the garden centre was tricky place to work because my customer skills were not
good, my interaction with the general public remained poor, and the
woman who I worked with in the garden centre was very quick tempered and
irritable, the men would hide from her when she lost her temper, one
good thing about homebase was that they had a lot of waste plants that
were redeemable but not fit for sale to the general public, so my boss
would let me have them cheap or free and I would take them home for the
lady’s charity plant stall or for my cottage garden or for cuttings.
do wonder if the sparky woman at homebase got wires crossed at one point
and thought I was stealing the plants as it was the big boss who
arranged for me to have the old plants, anyway I was there for some
months but could not work with that sparky lady, her husband and
daughter worked there too and they were nice, but it was a pressurised
workplace and the management were messing me about with pay so I got into arrears
on some bills, and I also had things stolen from me there so I was
relieved to leave. My friend’s grandson worked for Homebase on
nightshift, he also had things stolen, and my friend told me the iPod she got
him was stolen there.
My delivery driving lasted for a
few years and was generally wonderful, yes it was stressful and
sometimes I had awkward customers and it was a bit of a drive to get
there, but I have happy memories, and sometimes since I left they asked
me to go back, I guess I was lucky and fell into a good team there and
fell in love with them.
Often I would start my shift with almost no fuel
in the car, but I would get tips or use money I collected to get petrol
and so I was ok, I also got free or cheap food, and started putting on
weight, there were a number of very heavy people working there, and some
delightful Polish people who couldn’t pronounce my name so they called
me *****, and I was going to deed poll my name to that, but it
It hadn't at the time of writing this, a few names ago.
Among the Team I met a gentle Rottweiler of a man who had been
converted to Catholicism when in prison for GBH, a bunch of lively
sparky youngsters including twins who used each other’s names when
answering the phone to customers, a clown who I used to trade jokes
with, who said to me one day ‘Let’s go and make babies!’ ‘ok’, I
replied,’ let me just deliver this Pizza to ******!’ He had a
girlfriend or two so he was only joking. Working there was often a laugh
riot, sometimes people got upset, had rows, but usually it was a stream
of jokes and teasing and having fun, it did me good. It helped to develop my sense of humour.
And a lovely
girl called Laura came to work with us. let me tell you a sad story
about Laura: Laura was very gentle and friendly and non-threatening and
we used to stand outside and chat, everyone had a laugh one day when I
put a delivery box full of pizza on my car roof and nearly drove off
with it there because I had been chatting and forgotten it!
thinking of leaving the job at one point because of the pressures on me,
I decided not to leave, and Laura came and gave me a hug and said she
was glad I was staying.
I had a special spot in the cul-de-sac where I
tried to park when I was in the shop, one night the shift was quiet and
those of us who worked during the day as well were given priority to be
clocked off, so I was clocked off.
Laura came in and stayed on and was
parked in my space in her little green car which was remarkably similar
to mine, just after I had gone home a delivery driver from the
neighbouring Takeaway came speeding out of their back yard, as he often
did, but even faster this time, lost control and smashed into Laura’s
car, Laura was seriously injured, brain damaged, when my bosses came
rushing out at the sound of the crash, they thought it was me, me and
Laura were not dissimilar and our cars were the same and trapped in the
wreckage unconscious they thought she was me and were shouting out my
name, I knew nothing of this until the next day, but that could have,
should have been me in that car, Laura was in hospital for some time and
had to be kept sedated because of the trauma, and I don’t think she
made a full recovery, she never came back to work, I have not thought of
this for years, but now I cry to remember it.
I made contact with
my family again, went to meet up with some of them and my relatives for
a special service in honour of my Grandma, we gave her a headstone at
last and then had a party. My parents weren’t there so there were no
There had been no money for a headstone when she died in 1995.