Mum told me that Black suggested I stay at the school for two years and was so persuasive that she and Dad felt that, if they didn’t agree, they would be going against what God wanted. I tried to insist I would not change schools, but it soon became obvious that they had made up their minds. I then pleaded with them to take me home so I could collect my things. I had only brought with me what I needed for the weekend, but they refused. I felt frightened, both of being left behind and of all the talk about going to Hell.
My parents stayed on for a couple of days to sort me out for my new life. My miniskirt and tight jeans were completely unsuitable for a Church school and Black told Mum to take me shopping in town for some new clothes. I ended up with a small selection of ghastly, demure three-quarter-length skirts and dresses, long-sleeved blouses with high necks and thick stockings, all of which were designed to make me look respectable and modest. I was not allowed to have jeans or trousers because Black apparently believed they were not ladylike. I hated everything, and felt I was losing my individuality. Instead of being a distinctive teenager I looked like Mary Poppins.
But I didn’t make a terrible scene. It was all much too serious and I was in shock. Instead, I did what I was told and behaved like a robot. After our shopping trip Mum and I came back to the church to buy the school uniform. This consisted of a grey pleated skirt with a white blouse, a maroon blazer with grey trim to match the skirt, a grey coat and a maroon hat, also with a grey trim. It was all hideous. I felt terribly upset that I was not allowed to go home to say goodbye to my friends or boyfriend, who I was particularly keen on, or collect my books, diary and special things.
My parents left on Wednesday morning and I was in floods of tears as they hugged me and said goodbye. I have since learnt that lots of questionable organizations, selling anything from double glazing and commemorative china to religion, often target people and pressurize them into making quick commitments. They persuade them that, unless they make a fast decision, they will lose the chance to take advantage of whatever is on offer.
But, at Tadford on that bleak Sunday in July when my fate and future were about to be sealed, neither of my parents felt under duress, nor were they the slightest bit suspicious of any ulterior motive on the part of Black. Mum had looked round the school, seen well-mannered children and thought that it would be the ideal thing for me. She had always wanted me to have the best opportunities in life and thought that here was my chance.
For my parents it was a hard decision and a sacrifice to leave me behind, both emotionally and financially. Mum even went back to work full-time to pay for my schooling. She also told Black that she wanted me to come home during half-term and the school holidays, and at most stay for a year, but I didn’t know that. Nor did she realize I would be one of only two boarders.
In the cold light of the long car journey home, neither of them felt quite so confident about what they had done. Mum felt guilty and inadequate at not being able to manage me, and about passing me on to somebody else what she felt was really her problem. Dad just felt terrible. They talked about what had happened all the way back. Neither of them slept that night, while several hundred miles away I cried myself to sleep.
Chapter 4
Handed Over to Tadford
I felt totally felt bereft as I watched my parents drive off. My bolshie, know-it-all attitude disappeared and I yearned for Mummy and Daddy to stay with me. I didn’t feel nearly ready to stand on my own two feet and worried that the strange, restricted new world I suddenly found myself in would prove a very lonely place. It didn’t help that after my parents left I discovered that I was one of only two boarders. My heart sank. I couldn’t believe it. I thought that at least there might be the possibility of some late-night fun with other girls in a dormitory. Instead I was told I was going to live in Ian Black’s house with his family.
Ian Callum Fitzroy Black was born in 1939, the son of a prosperous Scottish banker. His father died in the North African campaign fighting for Monty and the Eighth Army when he was 3 and, after being looked after by his mother until he was 8, he was sent off to a private school in the Scottish Highlands, where his father had been a pupil. After leaving school he worked on a large Highland estate as a trainee forester, but, finding that he was less than keen on such a solitary life in the wet wilderness of the Scottish mountains, he soon moved to England in search of work.
For a while he found employment selling agricultural machinery to farmers in Lincolnshire, but, again dissatisfied with his lot, he eventually ended up as a Gas Board employee, becoming a regional sales manager within a couple of years. A dramatic change occurred in his life at his mother’s funeral. Black, who previously had not given much thought to religion or to God, was devastated by his mother’s death and at her funeral, wracked with grief, suddenly understood the meaning behind the arcane symbols and rituals of the Church.
Shortly after this epiphany, Black met Heather, a librarian from Stamford, at a party thrown by one of his colleagues. Initially, the two were friends, but their relationship soon developed and they were married in Lincoln a year after they first met. They moved to a small town nearby, where Black became involved with the local church, taking on the role of lay preacher. Several years later they moved south, where he was able to take up another position with the Gas Board, and bought a rambling six-bedroom house with a large garden.
During this period he started prayer meetings with Heather and another couple, David and Charlotte Snelling, whom they met at church. Others gradually joined them and when there were about seventy regulars they decided to formalize the group. They called themselves the Church of Christ’s Compassion. Shortly afterwards, Black met the Canadian evangelist preacher Troy Tyson, who took him under his wing.
Black and his wife had five children – Ione, Callum, Lucy, Helen and James – and one boarder, a girl some years younger than me called Angie, who was also a pupil at Tadford. I was told that I had to share a room with her. She was sweet and bubbly and had a good sense of humour, but although the difference in our ages was not that big, the difference in our likes and dislikes was enormous. Angie’s bedroom was decorated in pink and very girly, but from the start I could tell she didn’t want to share it with me and I didn’t blame her. Who would want a stranger suddenly turning up without warning who took up space in a room you’d previously had to yourself? But that’s what happened. Black and his wife, together with Angie, had driven to Greece ‘on business’ the day before my parents left, and Alex and Siobhan Scott, a newly married couple who were also founder members of the Church, moved in to look after us. Siobhan taught in the Church school, while Alex was a manager at the local printer’s.
I felt terribly homesick and totally traumatized by what had happened. From being the baby of the family and secure in my parents’ unconditional love, I had been dramatically uprooted and deposited in what felt like an alien land. And I’d had no time to prepare myself either psychologically or physically. I hadn’t said goodbye to any of my many friends. I felt like an amputee who had not only lost all her limbs but had had her heart torn out as well. I had no coping mechanism. I was no longer a child and not yet a woman. Not surprisingly, at first I cried a huge amount. I also wrote to some of my friends telling them I was trapped and asking if they could smuggle me some cigarettes. I didn’t really want the cigarettes: it was just my way of connecting with my friends without losing face. They posted several packets to me but I didn’t smoke them. You weren’t allowed to and I was frightened of getting caught and what the punishment might be.
When Black returned from his trip, Angie insisted she wanted her room back. Black told me he would get the builders in to alter his house to accommodate me in another room and that in the meantime I would be living with Alex and Siobhan in their home. It seemed rather odd to alter his house for one pupil but he seemed determined to have me live there. I had no idea why. Alex and Siobhan lived in a ground-floor flat in the town where the Church had originally started, several miles from Tadford and Black’s house. It was another upheaval for me, especially as there was no one to help smooth my way. I felt totally lost and abandoned.
Siobhan was strict, which was fair enough.