Nowhere Girl ~ John Lennon/The Beatles

Chapter Eighteen: Secrets

"In short, my Mum hated the way her parents tried to control her, she thought they were constantly manipulating her into being a good little girl," Robin explained, her eyes not looking up at John once as she spoke, her focus directed solely on the painting she was working on. "She was proper smart in school so my grandparents were pushing her into getting a good job because she had potential, but she wanted to have fun. She fell into a group of friends who went out to clubs and went drinking and dancing most nights. It was where she met my Dad with a bunch of his steelworks mates, and it was like lust at first sight,"

Robin wasn't quite sure why she was telling John all about her parents that lunchtime as they sat about in one of the college classrooms. She was meant to be helping him catch up on his coursework, and she still had finishing touches to do on her pieces, but he'd noticed the red mark on her arm as she took her jumper off and had asked her about it. Usually the outcome of her run-ins with her mother were invisible, nothing but mental scars, but every so often her mother would grab her arm or her wrist too tightly and there'd be a bruise left over. Robin wasn't bothered, but knowing John had seen it led to the whole story practically falling out of her. She wasn't one for talking about it all, not wanting to feel as though she was making it someone elses problem, but she trusted John, and they'd promised to talk to each other properly about things.

Until she began talking, Robin never even realised just how hard it was keeping it to herself, all of her home troubles, and just how much it all should bother her. That was why she refused to look at John, because each time he narrowed his eyes at what she was saying, she realised just how messed up her family relationships were.

"They went out for a while, they were a model couple, but then her parents found out and kicked her out," she continued, still not meeting his eye as he sat on the table across from her. "She found out she was pregnant the next day so had no choice but to move in with my Dad and marry him. It was a thing of convenience for both of them but I think they loved each other at first. My Dad had a shit relationship with his parents so I think he wanted a family and I think my Mum resented him for how good he was as a parent. As soon as she had me all of her friends left her, they all had jobs and boyfriends of their own, and one of them told her she was the only one stupid enough to get in trouble. I know she loves me in her own little way, but she never failed to remind me that I was a mistake and potentially ruined her life, but it never bothered me because I knew she did the same to my Dad,"

"Why didn't either of you leave?" John asked as she paused, frowning as he tried to fight his urge to pull her into a tight hug, wishing he could make her feel better about it all despite the brave face she was forcing on.

"Cause we all kind of needed each other, Dad insisted that Mum had a good heart really even with all of their arguments, and neither of my parents would have been able to afford rent without the other, it's why Mum and me needed to move in with Uncle Al after Dad died," Robin shrugged in explanation. "As soon as I was old enough to be left on my own Mum went to find a job, not just for the money but for the excuse to get out of the flat. She'd be out constantly, not just working but going out with her new friends, spending all her money. Dad's whole wage practically went on rent and bills while Mum spent all of hers on going out and having a laugh, making up for the years she'd been forced to waste by having to look after me. I can do nothing right in her eyes really, it was only when Dad died that she started to be a bit more considerate about me, but I think she's given up on that now and she's back to not liking me,"

"That's shit," John muttered, recalling all the times Robin had said she was a disappointment or unlikeable, hating that it was her mother who had instilled those values into her.

"A lot of people have it worse," she reasoned, putting down her paintbrush with a sense of finality, frowning down at her work. "I think I'm done,"