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fted from one place to the next. You would think it would be something we would have g o t ten use d to, but that was not the case. We longed for the lives that other children had with some stability, love , and attention. Jake and I always talk ed about how amazing it would be to have a normal life just like the very children we were staying with at our temporary foster home .

The c hildren’s rooms were incredible; there were so many toys, the bed sets matched their curtains, and they had their own writing desks to complete their homework. The bedrooms were like fantasy rooms to Jake and I — we had never seen anything like them before in our whole lives. At first Jake and I thought the foster parents were wealthy, but it turns out they were just a very hard- working couple who saved and p rovided well for their family. B ut to Jake and I they were millionaires!

We were to remain with our new foster parents until the new baby w as born and our mother was in a routine. Jake and I couldn’t quite warm to our foster parents . P art of the reason was that the ir two children were treated very differently to us in the most obvious ways. Although we were not mistreated, it was obvious that we did not belong there, and for that reason we did not want to be there.

When we were eventually retu rned home, it was to a new half- sister, Susie. I could not believe how miniature our half - sister was; she had a shock of black hair and the tiniest fingers I had ever seen. My time was immediately taken up fetching and carrying for my mother, which I did not mind in the slightest, as it kept mother busy enough for a while and took the onus off Jake and I. My daily job was basically taking care of Jake and Jenny most of t he time. Jenny had a large blue- and- white- striped buggy , which I used to place her in and take her for a walk around the rough council estate, partially because I wanted to be a way from M other , but also because M other had some pe a ce and quiet, allowing her time to be focused on Susie. Social Workers were a frequent presence once again, popping in and out at every opport unity, checking on our welfare and i m parting their advice to M other.

By this time, we were now all calling Robert “D ad, ” and he was stil l the fearful man I remember—too afraid of M other, always doing what she told him, no matter how impossible the task. This was making him depres sed, and he was no longer happy. He rarely smiled, and it became noticeably clear to Jake and I that he was suddenly away from home often. We began to see less and less of him, and when h e was around, he seemed to develop a little backbone. Perhaps being away fr om M ot her more often was changing him. T hey were in each other’s company a lot less , which meant she did not have that complete hold over him anymore . When Robert was a round, it was just pure carnage. T he rows became more two - sided as time went on , and when tempers flared they reached new heights. Their fights beca me quite frightening at times— pots and pans would be thrown at each other, and our mother ’ s temper knew no bounds . I was sure this was the type of woman who would be capable of raisi ng the blood pressure of a monk. It was not unusual for windows to get smashed during the ir rows, which would then be boarde d up for a few weeks with thick-brown carpet tape until the council c ame to replace them. As usual, M other knew how to get what she wanted , and a few dramatic stories later, the glass was always replaced free of charge.

One day when we arrived home from school we walked into mayhem. T here was arguing and screaming , and Robert was packing his bags and preparing to leave. Mother was in such a rage the hatred seeped out of her eyes, so Jake and I grabbed our two sisters and hid in the corner of the living room, as far out of si ght as we could possibly get. We were all crying and sobbing uncontrollably, fearful of what our mother was going to do next and