While I pondered my increasingly screwed-up romances, the university holidays got underway. I needed money to live and socialize until I found Mr. Right to live happily ever after. I began working as a newspaper canvasser, selling papers door to door with my uncle, Mum’s brother.
The job took me across the UK, and as the only girl on the team, I was grossly outnumbered, trying to fit into a lad’s world (male environment). That’s how I met Tim. He was a Londoner, with a strong cockney accent, who shared my love for garage music.
It was two workers per room. So, after spending all day together knocking on doors, we were alone as roommates.
“I’ll give you a massage,” Tim offered with a devilish smile.
My answer surprised me. “Sure, why not?”
As it turned out, he was an excellent masseur. We did share our first kiss that night and decided we would date.
~
Visiting Tim’s mum in North London was an eye-opener. I caught the train to the Big Smoke (London) and experienced my first solo go on the chaotic Tube. It was exciting; I was spreading my wings.
I was not from a super-rich background, but boy, our lifestyles were worlds apart. The stairwell to his mum’s flat was covered in graffiti and the stank of urine, but I didn’t let on. Tim’s mum tried to make me feel welcome; she was a good soul.
Tim changed shirts. I knew he was a bit rough and ready but was shocked to see machete scars on his body. He said they were sustained in a gang attack in his own home. That frightened me a little. “I was taken by surprise,” Tim said, “it won’t happen again.” Tim never told me the full story. And, I didn’t press for any details.
I’d lived a sheltered, innocent life in comparison to Tim. Despite my dalliances, I still thought of myself as a naive country girl from a lovely home. Where I came from boys rode bikes, puffed on cigarettes, and had the odd punch up or scuffle, they were certainly not attacked with machetes!
Despite our obvious differences, dating a bad boy like Tim had a certain allure. I was convinced every girl, at one point or another wants to feel the buzz and excitement of being with someone a bit naughty. You know, the type of a boy who is spontaneous, a bit dangerous, and lives life on the edge.
~
Tim claimed he attracted spirits. At first, I thought it was nonsense, until one night in his London bedroom. We were lying in bed; he said, “Do you see it?” I looked up and there was a ball of light floating across the dark ceiling. I trembled with fear. He held my hand. “Don’t be afraid; it happens to me all the time,” he whispered. “It’s probably my dad.”
The edges of the orb changed form. It came closer, too close. I couldn’t breathe. I was rigid and too scared to take a breath. Tim became afraid too, sensed it was a bad spirit, and started waving his arms and yelling, “Get out! Getaway!”
It was petrifying. I hid under the quilt like a child until it was gone. I’d never experienced anything like it.
Months later, we were still dating when the second paranormal experience occurred. Tim and I were staying in a hotel room above an old pub in Leicester. Another orb starting floating around the room. Unlike the first orb, this one made no sudden advances. Eventually, the ball of light floated to the window, then disappeared. The experience was odd, but I wasn’t frightened. Despite Tim’s paranormal proclivities, we remained a couple for quite some time.
~
Unlike my other boyfriends, Mum and Dad didn’t approve of Tim. They believed he was no good for me and ordered me to end it. I didn’t.
The problem is, as a youngster, you defy your parents because you do not like being told what to do. I should have listened.
As time went on, Tim became controlling. I decided to drive home and surprise my family. Tim was heading back from Leicester and staying in Weston with the team. He demanded to see me, but I just wanted to chill with my family after a long drive. He went mad, ringing over and over on route and shouting down the phone.
That distraction led to me smashing into a car in front of me on the motorway. I was blue-lighted to a hospital in West Berkshire and put in a neck brace for whiplash injury. My first car, a little Vauxhall Nova, was written off, and Mum and Dad drove across the country to collect me.
Stupidly, I caved in and visited Tim in my neck brace as I wanted a quiet life and no further arguments. Mum and Dad were unhappy with my decision. Don’t ask me why, I do not know myself, but I stupidly stayed in the relationship.
On New Year’s Eve, Tim resolved to stop smoking and gave me the last of his cigarettes while partying at a North London pub.
Hours later, walking home with just the moon illuminating our path, Tim grabbed my arm. “Give me my cigarettes!” “No. Don’t be silly; you can’t break your resolution already!” “Hand them over, now!” “No.” That’s when he lost it and threw me into a wall. My back smashed into the bricks. I was too stunned to speak and handed them over. We walked on in silence.
I had never encountered his violent physical temper before, only his unkind words leading up to the crash. I became fearful he had a violent side he inherited from his father.
It was the early hours of New Year’s Day. We were on the streets in the middle of London. I was scared but had nowhere to go. We went back to his mum’s flat, and he started trashing his room, throwing glasses at the wall. His mum calmed him down. I wondered if she was used to such outbursts. It terrified me.
I’d never felt so afraid in a relationship. I’d never experienced any domestic violence in my lifetime. Tim was nothing like kind protective Will. Looking back, I wonder if the orb was a spirit trying to offer me a warning and protection from Tim.
This incident showed me that the people we think we love, could hurt us. It also taught me that I should be on my guard and not be so trusting in the future. I would have to be more careful choosing a partner. Of course, as you’ll later discover, I was good at making mistakes that would eventually cost me dearly.
Tim was furious when I broke up with him. He stalked me for months, prank called me and hacked into my voicemail.
You are probably asking yourself if I told Mum and Dad what happened to their little girl. The answer is no—I didn’t want a lecture; after all, I was a responsible adult at the age of 21.
Enough was enough. I called Tim’s mum; told her he’d been harassing me. She was upset. “Vicki, Tim loves you. He’s bought an engagement ring and was going to propose to you!”
I replied, “Tell him to go get a refund.”
9.
PRINCE CHARMING
“Don’t rush into love because even in fairy tales, the happy ending always happens on the last page.”
― Anonymous
2001…
By the age of 21, I had already experienced three doomed relationships filled with heartache and pain. I kept telling myself my luck had to change.
Life’s storms and missteps had made me impatient; I craved to be loved with no reservations and no judgments by someone who always had my back.
Enter Prince Charming.
~
It wasn’t love at first sight with John. But there was an innocence about him. He was more refined, much more of a gentleman than the immature, bad lads I’d dated. I saw his smile, and I knew I wanted to get to know him more. I felt butterflies when we met, he was utterly charming, taking me under his wing to show me the ropes in my new job.
John was my supervisor at Southampton Football Club, and I saw something different in him; genuine kindness. He also danced up