No pharma
No chemicals
One wash or shower PER PERSON PER DAY
One shampoo per week
ALL RESIDENTS must spend a minimum of two hours a day with David in the exercise room
ALL CHILDREN must spend a minimum of two hours a day with Birdie in the music room
All food must be homecooked from organic ingredients
No electric or gas heating
No shouting
No swearing
No running
This list of rules had started quite short and was added to at intervals as David’s control of our household got stronger and stronger.
Sally, at this stage, still used to come to the house once or twice a week, to take the children out for tea. She was sleeping on a friend’s sofa in Brixton and desperately trying to find some kind of accommodation big enough for them all to live in. Phin would be extra sullen after spending time with his mother. He would lock himself in his room and miss the next couple of meals. It was because of Phin, in fact, that a lot of the rules were put in place. David found his moods untenable. He could not bear the wasted food, or the door which he was unable to open at will. He could not bear anyone doing anything that did not directly correspond with his own view of the world. He could not bear teenagers.
Two new rules were added:
No locked doors
ALL MEALS to be attended by ALL members of the household
One morning, shortly after the fifth time Phin had come back from spending the afternoon with his mother and broken the rule about ‘No locked doors’, I went upstairs to find David removing the locks from inside Phin’s room, his jaw clenched, his knuckles tight around the handle of the screwdriver.
Phin sat on his bed, watching with his arms folded hard across his chest.
When at dinnertime Phin was still sitting on his bed with his arms folded, silent and deathly, David dragged him down by his – still folded – arms and threw him into a chair.
He forcibly pushed the chair into place and served Phin a large bowl of curried marrow and rice. Phin’s arms remained crossed. David got to his feet, piled some curry on to a spoon and forced it to Phin’s lips. Phin locked his lips together. I could hear the spoon hitting his teeth. The atmosphere was shocking. Phin, at this stage, was fifteen and a half, but looked much older. He was tall and he was strong. The situation looked as though it could turn violent very easily. But Phin stood his ground, his eyes boring a hole into the wall opposite, his whole face rigid with anger and determination.
Eventually David gave up trying to feed the spoon into his son’s mouth and hurled it across the room, the curry forming an ugly yellow crescent across the wall, the spoon making an angry metallic scream as it hit the floor.
‘Get to your room!’ David shouted. ‘Now!’ A vein throbbed on his temple. His neck was tensed and puce. I had never before seen a human being as engorged with rage as David at that moment.
‘With pleasure,’ hissed Phin.
David’s hand appeared; then, almost in slow motion, as Phin passed him it connected with the back of his head. Phin turned; his eyes met his father’s eyes, I saw true hatred pass between them.
Phin carried on walking. We heard his footsteps, sure and steady up the staircase. Someone cleared their throat. I saw Birdie and David exchange a look. Birdie’s look, pinched and disapproving, said, You’re losing control. Do something. David’s look, dark and furious, said, I intend to.
The moment the meal was over I went to Phin’s room.
He sat on his bed with his knees drawn tight to his chin. He glanced up at me. ‘What?’
‘Are you OK?’
‘What do you think?’
I edged a little closer into the room. I waited for him to ask me to leave but he didn’t.