8 its a big deal, awareness of friendships, important stuff like lovely mums and homes, party dresses excitement because your friends fight for your attention to be asked to your party, like I said a big deal..
The day itself started with hope and normality. The house cleaned for once and space made for pass the parcel and musical statues with lots of little toys hidden under the stairs for prizes which I checked constantly in a glee of anticipation. We had sausages on sticks with cheese and pickle and dad had dropped off all types of pies, cakes and goodies from Aunty Edna's bakery.
As the children appeared with parents I sensed an apprehension from them, would their child be allright? what were the plans? what time should they pick them up? I could see they relaxed as they cast an eye around the house prepared and set for a party, maybe the rumours they had heard were not true but their gestures of nervousness did not go unnoticed and a sliver of apprehension sat inside my stomach.
Mum never had a problem with any child she had that ability to make every child want to be the one she picked. They clung to her dress and vyed for her attention, shouted her name and jumped up and down hanging on her every word and true to form she rose to the performance.
A few hours of fun and frolicks occurred the children were heady at the lack of formality and structure and for some unknown reason or maybe because it was the only thing she knew we were out of the house and off on an adventure. My party stopped at that very moment in time as I fretted over what the parents would say, what would my friends tell them ? where were we going?
The Conservative Club of Ashton was not a venue most parents would choose for a child's party everyone sat on the benches laughing at the strangeness and excited at a new experience but I sat there in horrror the smell of old alcohol from inside and the humility of the situation I just wanted the ground to swallow me up, I begged to leave and the day turned sour. As we made our way home she was completely oblivious to any feeling of innapropriatness and the reaction on the parents faces to me said it all, my friends were excited they'd had a great time and left bubbling, laughing and tired a rich epsiode in their minds but for me the worst had yet to come.
I burst into tears I decided to leave and run to dads, a calm, constant oasis about half a mile away in the village but the door was barred by my two friends, mum tied me to the chair with an extension lead and anger and tears and fury coursed through my body as I cried and then fell into silence and stillness (my ultimate weapon and course of protection).
The thing with alcohol is it has no boundaries, it takes no prisoners, it destroys common sense, laughter, security and love and at eight it was a demon I was struggling to cope with.
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