Mother Was a Smoker

I started writing this as a story told by a young man about his relationship to his slutty mother and her desertion of her family. However it became clear that it could be just as much a romance about his father finding a new wife. I have put this in non-erotic rather than loving wives because I do not find it erotic. You might.

Also, because at the beginning the storyteller is under 18 years of age he does not see or describe sex taking place. You, the reader, must imagine where and when it happens.

Mother was a smoker

A young man looks back at his childhood and the breakdown of his parent's marriage.

Chapter 1

My Mother smoked. By that I don't mean she was hot and sexy, well she was, but that's not what I mean here. She smoked cigarettes. Also other stuff, as I was to find out later.

My first recollections were when I was probably four, going on five years old. My father did not smoke and Mother had told me it was her secret and I had to keep it as well. We would go out into the town shopping and on one day each week Mother took me to a small cafe. Here she would drink coffee and chat to the man behind the counter or with the occasional customer. It was adult all things that I didn't understand. The man usually offered her a smoke and she went to a back room. Presumably smoking was not allowed inside the cafe itself.

She would take me through to the back room as well and plop me down in front of the TV. Sometimes I had a game or a book, but mostly it was the TV. A could hear the man lock the front door and then walk through to us. Being a little kid, it never occurred to me that this was unusual. He and Mother would go into the little room right at the back and smoke. I used to smell the smoke as it drifted into the sitting room where I was. I can still remember that smell today.

Mother had told me that his cigarettes were special ones, made from leaves grown in the West Indies. They were a secret mixture and this was why I must never tell anyone about them. Especially my father must not find out, as he did not like her smoking.

The man's name was Tyrone, Ty to his friends, supposedly from Jamaica. Actually it was only Tyrone's father who was from over there. His mother was from Cardiff and that was where Ty was born.

Mother and Ty would be in the room for a long time. Remember I was young and only measured time by the length of TV programmes. I knew she liked to smoke. I could hear her laughing and dancing about with the man. She would come out happy and blushing red. I liked her then. She would pick me up and kiss me.

One time I particularly think about. Mother came from the back room laughing and tottering along. She scuttled off to the toilet in the yard. I saw she was walking peculiarly because her knickers and tights were down round her ankles and she was holding her hand between her legs. Later she told me it was a joke that Ty had told her had made her laugh so much she peed herself. She had to throw her tights away because they were ruined. It made us both laugh.

Every week after their smoke, we would sit in the cafe for a little while longer. She would drink mint tea or something similar with a strong perfumed smell. Ty would joke with her and give me sweets and pop. When we left he always gave her a hug and told her he would see her next week. We usually went back.

I began school in the September after I turned five. Mother walked me round and then collected me a 3:30 in the afternoon. I started to notice the heavy perfume two or three days a week during the late autumn. Christmas came and went with Dad having extra days off work. They were both happy with relatives visiting us and us going round to friends. However, Mother was a bit anxious some days. If I was on my own with her I held her hand and looked at her. She whispered she needed a smoke but would have to wait until Dad was back at work.

Towards the end of February Mother took Dad to the sofa and they spoke very quietly. Dad suddenly threw his arms around her and kissed as I had never seen before. Mother called me over. She was holding Dad's hand. "Robert," she spoke to me and called me by my name at special times. "You are going to have a brother or sister in the summer." I did not know what to say or do. I should have been happy because they were, but I had a strange feeling. Dad was really happy. Mother smiled at us and hugged us together.

Through the year Mother got bigger. I guessed this was the baby growing. I was certain she was still visiting the cafe when I was in school. I recognised the perfume and her giggly voice. I only went there with her once in the summer holidays. I was uneasy now and knew none of my school friends' mothers did this. That day two other men went for a smoke in the back room with Mother. But she came out happy enough and we enjoyed a few minutes with Ty, the cafe owner, as we always used to do.

We did not go away for a holiday that year. Mother said she could not do it. Near the end of August Dad woke me in the middle of the night and said he was taking Mother to hospital. The baby was ready to be born. Old Mrs Haddon from down the street had volunteered to stay with me while Mother was in hospital. Dad was gone until the next afternoon. When he returned home I could tell he was not happy. He said Mother had had a little girl but told me no more. He phoned his parents and told them the news. He spoke for quite a long time, quietly and earnestly. Mother's mother had visited the hospital and was still there when Dad came home.

Dad then sat down with me. I could tell this would be serious. He said to me that there was something wrong with the baby. He did not know yet if she would be coming home to live with us. I tried to understand but at six years old all I could do was be worried about Mother and my new sister. He spoke to Mrs Haddon about the baby but I did not know what else they talked about. It was very mysterious for me.

Dad asked Mrs Haddon to look after me a bit longer and she agreed. I actually went to stay at her home. It was there that I first met her daughter, Gwen. Gwen was slightly built young lady in her early twenties and had just finished university. She was training as a teacher and, with hindsight, I now realise that she was practicing on me. However she was fun to be with, I just wished Mother was there. Gwen stared at me through her school-teacher glasses and smiled. I thought she knew something that she was keeping a secret, maybe something about my sister.

A week later Mother came home with Tiffany my little sister. Mother cradled her in her arms and I saw her for the first time. I thought she was pretty, a tiny round face, already with some black hair. She looked a bit like Granddad with his sunburnt skin but I did not mention that. Dad took to his daughter but I could tell there was something odd between him and Mother. We settled down to try being a new family.

Looking back now I realise Dad had been going through hell. He had had to make a terrible decision that no husband should ever have to make. My guess today would be that he could not allow Tiffany to be taken to Tyrone's dive. That must have been why he agreed to keep Mother with him. He had realised that it would be too risky for a little baby like Tiffany down there. He did a gallant thing for my sister and me and it must have hurt him greatly. Nowadays I know for certain that not many men would be strong enough to do that. I am also certain that his and Mother's marriage effectively finished then.

In the spring of the next year, when the Easter holidays were over I noticed that Mother had taken up smoking again. One Wednesday I found a little ring in Tiffany's cot in yellow, green and black colours. Mother saw me pick it up and took it from me. "I'll look after that," was all she said. I guessed it came from Tyrone because his cafe was painted black and yellow with green leaves on the walls. I did not know why but I felt sad. As Tiffany grew it became plain that she was darker skinned than the rest of us and her hair was tending to be curly.

Dad would play with her and she always scrambled across to him when he got home in the evening. However, Mother did not her let her play with other babies round about or take her to local toddler groups. Only Mrs Haddon, and of course Gwen, visited Mother. Mrs Haddon worked a few hours on four days a week for a charity and came to visit in the afternoon. Even my Grandparents seemed concerned about Tiffany yet talked strangely to Mother. They were her own mother and father and they loved Tiff, but something was not right.

When Tiff was four and ready for pre-school Mother wanted to start part time working. Mother dropped Tiff off in the morning and Mrs Haddon picked her up at mid-day on her way home. Mrs Haddon also met me from school, usually with Tiff in her push chair. I did not know where Mother went during the day or where she worked. Mrs Haddon had her mobile number if she needed her.

The relationship between Mother and Dad had got steadily worse as time progressed. Even I could feel it and it made me uncomfortable. The big crash came on a Friday evening. Mother came home very late. Dad was already home but Tiff and I were still with Mrs Haddon. Actually I was entertaining Gwen with my new knowledge from school. She asked me lots of questions and talked about the answers I had. I was happy being with Gwen. Dad came and collected us. I do not think he had met Gwen before but he got on well with her. I liked that because my friend could be Dad's friend as well.

Eventually Mother got back home. A car dropped her at the gate and she staggered up to the front door. Later Dad told me she was drunk or high on something. Anyway they had a bust-up. Mother yelled at Dad and said he was trying to control her life. He said he was accepting her and forgiving her past mistakes. She said he would not just forget what had happened and move on. He said she was not moving on, she was going backwards. So it went on. Mother hid in their bedroom and Dad did not speak to her. Dad had tried never show himself to be angry in front of us children. About an hour after that the car came back. Mother had phoned Ty. She came out of the bedroom with her case packed and got in the car. Ty and Dad eyed each other but stayed silent. Ty picked up the case, put it in the car and drove off, taking Mother with him. She did not come back to live with us, ever. Dad was left with me and little Tiff. Mrs Haddon was to become our stand-in mother. I still loved Mother and wanted her back. I just wished she did not smoke.

The three of us made the best of it as it was. Granny, that's Mother's mother, came across most days and took care of Tiff. Either Mrs Haddon or Gwen met me from school. It made me feel happier when one of them was with us because Dad had changed so much. He always seemed so sad now. When the next Christmas came round Mother finally visited us, well Granny and Granddad brought her. She had presents for Tiff and me but nothing for Dad. That upset me, I was eight then and Tiff was nearly five. I had got a card for Mother and made her a present myself. I said it was from me and Tiff. She hugged and kissed us but did not stay for tea. Granddad took her away back to where she was living. Next spring, Dad and Mother got divorced. I understood that Dad had stuck with Mother as long as he could but now she had finally gone.

When I got the chance to get Dad alone I asked. "Will they make Tiffy go and live with Mother?"

"No, Bobby. I'm not letting her go." Dad replied firmly. "Tiffany is my little girl and she always has been. She stays with us."

That raised my spirits. Tiffany was Dad's little girl. He had told me that himself. I had hoped Dad would just do what was right and he had. I ran off to find her.

Mother visited Tiff and me every couple of weeks when we were at Mrs Haddon's house. She did not see Dad or ask about him. She told us that it was unfortunate but there was no room for us at Ty's house, so we could not visit her there. She smelt of that strong perfume. Mother was still a smoker.

Chapter 2

When my sister Tiffany turned five she started school and I moved on to the next one. The two schools stood beside each other so there was no change in the arrangements. Our neighbour Mrs Haddon looked after us while Dad was at work. She was almost as good as a mother to us. She had helped Dad a lot in the hard times following his divorce from Mother. We also had Granny over at the weekends to see us and that helped us get over Mother not being there.

As the weather warmed up, Dad wanted to take us to different places, to the seaside, to parks or the zoo. He thought he would need some help with the two of us running around so he asked Gwen, Mrs Haddon's daughter, if she would like to come along and give a hand. I was thrilled when she said yes. Actually, as it happened, Tiff and I managed quite well and that left Dad a lot of the time alone with Gwen. At the time I thought they would soon be fed up but they were always close together walking and talking. On summer evenings there was often a band in the local park and the pavilion there opened up serving drinks and snacks. Mrs Haddon came over one Saturday and stopped with Tiff and me while Dad and Gwen went down for a drink and some dancing. After that they went to the theatre and to restaurants. Then as autumn arrive and the football season started they went together to Rugby matches.

In October, I know it was October, not long after my birthday, Dad and Gwen had been to an away match and were very late getting home. Mrs Haddon made sure we were in bed before Dad got back. Anyway on Sunday morning I woke up and could hear noises coming from the kitchen. I snuck down and there was Gwen, singing happily and doing the cooking. I had not heard the door bell ring and could not work out how she got in.

She smiled at me and said, "Come and help me make some breakfast. Set the plates out and find the cups and saucers. Then get dressed and I'll get Tiffany and see if your Dad is awake. "

"Does Dad know you are in the house this morning?" I asked in my innocence. It worried me that she was barefooted and only wearing what looked like a big old shirt of Dad's.

"You can be sure he does," Gwen said and giggled, "and it's all right."

After that morning, Gwen seemed to be at our house more and more. Sure enough it was not too long before Dad asked me if I got on with Gwen. I answered, "Of course, I think she's great, and so does Tiff."

"Would you like her here all the time, like a new mother? "

"Yes, Dad, I would, you can ask Tiff and she'll say the same." Dad did ask Tiff and she agreed with me.

Dad said he would see what he could do about it. At the end of the month I saw Dad and Gwen together on the sofa. He called to me and asked me to find Tiff. I ran round and found her painting on the kitchen table. "Come quick, Dad wants us."

Being only seven she wanted to know what was happening, "What's he want now?" She followed me back to Dad and Gwen.

"Kids, I have just asked Gwen to marry me." He solemnly announced. We stood there, surprised and happy. We looked at Gwen.

Then she asked us, "What shall I say, you two?"

"Yes, say yes." We chorused together.

"That's settled then," Gwen smiled and looked at Dad. Dad put his arms around her. "The answer is yes of course." They kissed. Tiff and I were embarrassed but delighted.

Dad and Gwen were married ten months later. Both our sets of grandparents were there. Mr and Mrs Haddon, naturally. Friends and neighbours. To our surprise so were some of our teachers, but then, Gwen was a teacher. Mother of course did not show up. We did not really want her there; Gwen was our mum by now.

The next event was only to be expected. Less than six months after Dad and Gwen got married he asked Tiff and me to sit with them again. I was that bit older and took a guess at what Gwen was going to tell us.

"Rob, Tiff, I going to have a baby soon after Christmas." Tiffany squealed with delight. I jumped in the air. "I guess you are both happy with that news?"

Dad told us we had to be careful with Gwen now there would be things she could not do. We were both delighted. The new baby was a girl and she was followed 15 months later by a boy. By then I was 12 years old and Tiff was eight. I thought we were now definitely a happy family.

About the time that Dad's new wife, Gwen, had her second baby, Tiff and I changed schools. Soon after the new term began Tiff came to me, she had been crying. "What's wrong, Tiffy?"

"Some of the other girls are calling me names."

"What names?" Nothing like this had happened before. Again I was not sure what I should do.

"They called me 'Sambo' and 'nig-nog'. They say I'm black and Dad is not my dad."

"Tiff, you're my sister. Dad is Dad. Come with me and we'll sort them out."

Well I could not really stop kids calling others names, but I found out Tiffy's real friends and made certain they looked out for her as well as I did. Deep down I knew this may be just the start of a problem. I hoped not but I could not be sure. At home I told Gwen what had been said to Tiffy. I had heard the term 'going ballistic' but never actually seen it until that moment. Gwen sent us out into the garden and started phoning around. I still do not know what Gwen said or who she spoke, or shouted at, to but the name callers very different the next week. Thankfully Tiffy's friends stuck with her both in school and outside. Many of them had met Gwen as their teacher. When they saw Tiffy was her 'daughter' they shielded her from the unfriendly ones.

Life for our family had settled into the routine familiar to all with school age children. I missed Mother less and less. I don't think Tiffany thought about her much at all, Gwen was Mum to her.

Chapter 3

By the time I was 18 I was ready for Uni. Tiff, of course, was only 15 but already becoming a young woman rather than a school girl. Gwen's two still tried to cause havoc but were always held in check by their mother, Mum, as we called her by then.

I disappeared for three years, returning only for holidays and then I worked to keep out of debt. By the time I graduated Tiff was 18 and a beautiful woman. She had grown tall and shapely. She had dark brown eyes and long black hair that seemed to weave around her head. She was gorgeous. She took after Mother in that respect. Dare I say that? Tiffany had studied hard too and got the exam results she needed. Of course she had Gwen watching her and checking up on any boyfriends that showed up at the door. Dad was rightly proud of her; he had raised her to what she had achieved. As far as I recall her parentage was never questioned in our house. She was Dad's daughter, full stop.

I graduated in civil engineering and found a job with an engineering consultant in the city centre. Having been in a shared house at Uni I was prepared to get a flat of my own near to work. Tiff was moving away to her university. Dad and Gwen had the bedrooms free for their growing pair who were now both at school. I think Dad sometimes seemed happier with his new family and he tried really hard. The kids kept him active; but after all he was not 50 yet. Then maybe it was Gwen that made him happy, she certainly was a lively lady.

A year later, I was in the city centre one lunch time and somewhere near the railway station. I walked past a small cafe. I looked twice at the front of this run down establishment and remembered back 15 years. This was the place Mother used to bring me on her 'Smoking Afternoons'. Now I was older, wiser and sadder, I could guess what went on in the back room between Mother and Ty. I had not seen Mother for more than ten years. I did not even know if she was still alive. I assumed she must be as no one had said she was dead. Maybe I stood and looked that little bit too long. In the corner of the front slabbed area, in years gone by it may have been a garden, there were a couple of chairs and a table. There she was, Mother, slouched back smoking. She saw me but I did not think she had recognised me. She had of course. She stood up and sauntered across to me. "Robert, it's you isn't it? My Bobby, come here and let me look at you." Now I had to stop. You cannot run away from your Mother, even if she has not bothered about you for years.