Foster Care 

I was always sporty as a kid, my brother Dale was a rugby league player and I envied him. His friends were pretty cool and he would always have lots of them around. Paul, Shaun and fergie were the ones I remember the most, Paul was good looking and Natalie my sister was in awe of him but Dale was 8 years older than us and him and Stacey had a different dad to us. At a young age I didn’t get what that meant but mention their dad to my mum and her face always looked so sad. Later I found out her first husband Len had had an affair with a 16 year old and my mum had left him. Dad used to say when he met my mum she had two kids a suitcase and a tin of beans!!!! Deep down we all knew mum didn’t love dad, she still held a candle for Len but she was too stubborn to admit it or go back to him. 
So on July the 21st of July 1978 I was born. Claire Janine Adams. Named after my nana Jean and my initials matched my dads ( CJ ). I wasn’t called CJ a lot as a child, my dad would call me it sometimes and I liked the nickname it was different. When I joined the Army and finally got away from Hull and my past I introduced myself as CJ to the girls in my troop. I saw it as a close the door on all that shit thing. CJ was a cool name and a fresh start…. I couldn’t be so fucking wrong.
We used to live behind an army barracks called Middleton bks down Calvert lane we lived in a council house all 6 of us, Dad worked away sometimes ( I thought that was code for prison ) but he boasted about being stabbed in Glasgow and showed us pictures of him and Phil working in the Humber bridge so maybe he really was. My mum suffered with agraphobia and struggled to go outside. Our school was Eastfield just across the road and I had a few friends I loved to lark out with. My early memories of friends were birthday parties with Kerry foster, Vicky Wilson, Nicola Hoyles and Nicky foster. 
I enjoyed school and I loved some of my teachers from Mrs White who would catch your tears in her hanky, Mr Pinder with the broken jaw and was the scariest bloke I ever met to Mrs Watson who was my last teacher there when I moved up to high school. Both my schools have been torn down now to make way for these super academies popping up all over the country. It’s a shame as I will miss the lady we used to sing to in the outside toilets, legend says you sing white lady white lady I killed your baby then flush the toilet and she would go away in the colour of the water foam. Bollocks it was toilet cleaner!!!! 
The third time I remember and the last time my dad ever physically attacked me was on a school morning Natalie and me were arguing yet again. We argued so much it drove everyone crazy. I hated her she used her looks to get everything. I was jealous of her looks it didn’t matter how fast I ran or how many achievements I made at army cadets or in sports. Natalie’s looks seemed to be more important than education or sport. She knew this as well, her and dad were similar academically ” thick ” but they had the patter they could get what they want of who they want with charm and flirting. Me however my idea of flirting would be to win a race or score a try or goal. If boys spoke to me I was there friend first. I did have boyfriends but that was just kids stuff. I used to wonder would I prefer to be pretty and thick or ugly and intelligent. Pretty always won but i annoyed myself thinking like that as I knew, it was ridiculous to think that way but I envied how everyone found her beautiful and me just a scruffy Tom boy. 
After a full blown argument which I can’t remember for we started to fight. I ended up outside the house and continued down the street where we went to get the school bus. I was swearing so was she then dad turned up I knew what was going to happen so told her to go dad dragged me inside the house. And starts to punch me several times in the stomach whilst holding my head back by my hair blow after blow I could feel my ribs crack again and he wasn’t for stopping I was winded and crying at the same time. But then from somewhere I got the energy to hit him back. It was proberly the most feeble attempt to hit a man but it connected! Fuck!!!!! 
Stand by stand by CJ. 

He punched me one last time but this time it was in the face. How the fuck boxers stand for that is beyond me. Jesus Christ!!!! 

Dad grabbed me again and then threw me out the door. I started to walk to the school bus I couldn’t breathe very well and knew I looked a mess. After that everything is confusing. My class teacher was being weird and then I was called to the office. Natalie was stood there and the teachers kept asking me what was wrong but I would not tell them. I just said I had an argument they said the bus driver said I was quiet and no arguments had happened on the bus shit I was running out of excuses. What was I to say. My dad has been physically abusing me for years please help me or keep my mouth shut. So I did just that. But and I don’t know how they found out wether it was my sister who told them or someone else I don’t know but within an hour a woman came to the school and took me to a centre down Pickering road. 

Foster care. 

After the last time dad hit me the social services intervened. I was put into Foster care and my dad was put on an anger management programme. The house was fucking massive it was a 8 bed house down boulevard. Pat and Jerry where my foster parents and they looked after teenage girls only. Pat said they had 13 kids all girls and one boy Neil, Jerry joked he was gay wether that’s true I don’t know. Pat was a lovely woman short tonged hair and Jerry was a skinny man who fixed refrigerators. The pair of them were so different to my parents. I’ve heard so many horror stories about foster parents but these two were angels such lovely people I guess I was lucky. They gave me £20 for pocket money and I could spend it on what I want. Winner winner chicken dinner!!!! 

The night I came to care I was given a top floor room I couldn’t believe houses could be this big third floor!!!! It had two single beds in it and its own shower room. Wow I was lucky to get the sink if Natalie was doing her frigging hair. It had a radio in it too and ironically on the radio it was playing ” things can only get better ” on it. 
You think????? 

I sat in my bed holding my ribs as they were still hurting and sat and thought about if Stacey and Natalie were alright and I hoped he never hit them too now. 

Stacey my eldest sister is by far the nicest person I know she’s an amazing mum and person, she’s had some shit times but her dry sense of humour and sheer wit just shines through she’s been on a diet since 1982 ( jokes ) but in my eyes her beauty just shines through wether she’s a size 10 or 18. She is a midget though can’t stand spiders or creepy crawly things and dances like no one is watching. I love my older sister I also love her husband Andy he’s like a brother to me with his pipe dreams and boring facts but he’s a hard worker a good man they have two children Harry and Holly ( the diva ) and they live in a nice house on the wrong side of Hull ( east ) dirty reds!!!! My rugby team is Hull FC we are the west of hull dirty reds are east hull. Stacey moved there years ago and I will never forgive her for letting the side down. lol. 
I don’t recall dad ever hitting Stacey bad or Natalie even. Just me and Dale, dad broke his nose once and Dale moved back in with his real dad. I was too young to remember it so I can’t tell you why but I know Dale hated our Dad and reused to call him it. Stacey was young when mum met my dad so in her eyes his was her dad. And too be honest he was as her own dad only cared about Dale and didn’t have much to do with her. It must be heart breaking for her but then again she a tough cookie. Strength isn’t always measured by taking a hit as I learnt when I was older. For some reason I had to protect my sisters from dad. So I did what I could when I could, if it meant I was in pain for a bit so be it. But once I left and went into care it was a worry. Mum said dad did his programme and he had changed but for me our relationship was over I’d had enough of him and my love for my dad had depleted. I loved him so much he was so strong and hard working I built my first wall with him, stood behind the army bks looking at the trucks thinking that will be me one day. I told dad I wanted to be a solider but he said girls can’t be in the army Claire only men did that but I never believed him. I was gonna be one of those who ran around in fields with a gun fighting the bad men, years later I proved him wrong. Even if I wasn’t running around a field I still wore the uniform and I was still doing what I said I would protect people. Just as I did as a little one for my sisters. 
I left foster care eventually but had made my mind up to leave mums and dads for good so at just short of 16 I borrowed money of my brother and moved into a flat with a girl is met on the nightclub scene in Hull. 

From coming out of care to eventually joining up I’d lived in a few places. Getting a flat with my Boyfriend Paul Adams no relation, I’d nicked him off my sister Natalie which she never forgave me for and later in life the worst boyfriend ever The Narc! had used that against me ( he will always be a shit cunt in my eyes so I couldn’t give a fuvk what cry baby says ) I fell pregnant to Paul at around 13/14 and mum had found out I was so scared. She just took control of the situation I moved back home and went on annual camp with army cadets mum had packed some sanitary things but when I got back I hadn’t used them. She asked me why I hadn’t had a period I said I don’t know so she dragged me to doctors. The doctor confirmed I was pregnant at around 6-8 weeks. Fuck knows what that meant but I heard termination and a date was booked. I laid in bed thinking what are they on about a baby???? Where was it? and how come they have to operate to get it out? 

Mum said keep your mouth shut and do not speak to anyone about it. I had to go to hospital to remove it and everything would be fine. I asked if I could still play hockey, rugby and go to cadets she said yes but do not tell anyone what was planned. So I carried on as normal till Op abortion was in full swing. I didn’t understand it at the time but if you look at the way my mum had arranged it all you would think she was ex mil. 

Dad would go to work and I would not go to school that day. I was to met by my auntie ( northern for one of mums friends ) at the top of the street she would drive me to the hospital book me in and then leave. I was dressed in a white thing with my arse sticking out an hour later I was back in the ward. The baby was gone, auntie picked me up took me home and mum put me to bed and dad was non the wiser. The baby was gone. 
At 14 I’d had an abortion, luckily for me I didn’t understand it, mum put me on the pill and again nothing more was said. 

After the abortion I became an absolute idiot thinking I was above and beyond everything drugs was my main concern. I met a guy called Collin graves he was younger than me but I really liked him. He was into boxing and took drugs like me I smoked pot and did other stuff like E’s and speed but I never thought I would go further than that. We used to hang around a place called gypsyville, it was your stereotypical council estate with its good and bad people. For some reason I decided to take my causal drug habit further I knew I wanted to join up when I was old enough but didn’t care what I was doing in the meantime.

I left school early couldn’t be arsed with it and no one cared that I didn’t go. So I nicked my friends national insurance number as she showed me it. I wrote down the number and went to a job place where I knew I could get work under 16, they thought I was someone else. So I started to work in a factory packing Christmas cakes. My eldest sister Stacey worked there but she was permanent staff I was just a temp but I didn’t care it was money and I could go out every weekend with my mates around hull. Until I got sacked. Basically some dick head lass was doing my head in one day so I stood up and punch her square in the gob I think her name was shelly, Stella my old mate was stood there laughing a fuvking head off coz the daft Bint landed in a cheery tub. So that was the end of my career in the cake factory. 

I looked for other work and got another job in a fish factory down hessle rd. It stank it was rats but by that time my drug habit was getting a bit pricey so i had to work to pay for my weekends out. I’d gave my mum board but I knew I wanted out that house ASAP. 

So that’s when I got the flat with my friend Kerry ironically the flat was just across the road from my foster parents house and I’d visit them from time to time. There was a group of girls I hung around with then my sister Natalie Stella Nicky and some more from the drugs scene. Natalie was falling deeper and deeper into it and I knew she had progressed from recreational to the stronger stuff. Why I’m not sure as her life didn’t seem that bad at the time but we all have issues we hide maybe the effect of dad had taken its toll and me leaving her might of causes her to regress, she was strong though a right little battler she could fight for herself but not whilst I was around that was my job. One night whilst I was in the Army we went out in a local night club I turned round for 5 seconds to look back at a lass pagering ( beating up ) my sister!!! I went fuvking bansi grabbed the lass and whilst I was kicking ten balls of shit out of her. I syllable smacked her, something along the lines off 

She ( punch ) is ( punch ) my ( punch ) little ( punch ) sister and so on, I think I said no one hits her apart from me. 

We got threw out by the bouncers and I spent the night nursing a fat lip. I later found out the girl was named Rachel Shipley and her family weren’t to be messed with. Well neither was fuvking I. Her brother asked me if he ever gets any drama from then on in would I square lasses away for him for £50 a go!!!! What was I the hired help lol but I didn’t as I was in the army then and didn’t want to get in the shit. 



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