I AM NOW A PUBLISHED AUTHOR! MY FIRST BOOK! WOW

LIFE IS NOT ALL A FIELD OF BUTTERCUPS!

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2009

MY BOOK !
THIS IS IT... AT LAST 'WOW!! MY LAST GOAL COMPLETED!! AFTER ONE OF MANY, OVER MY LIFE OF 75 YEARS! GREAT STORY!
THIS IS A UNIQUE STORY A FEW OF US ONLY HAVE THE COURAGE TO WRITE! 
'SEE BELOW':

The story takes the reader on a journey that begins in the late 1800s with a glimpse into the privileged lives of her English Ancestors. 
Ann then takes us through the traumas and joys of her underprivileged, fatherless childhood; her first day of school with her Mickey Mouse gas mask in hand, the destruction of the family home by German bombs,and the fond memories of life with her grandparents. 
One can't help but be touched by the innocence and simplicity of young Ann's life and how she manages to find joy despite the scars of her childhood.
Known as 'Little Ann' to her family and friends, Ann grew to learn that life isn't all a 'field of buttercups', 
She had little choice but to marry the boyfriend who had forced himself on her, causing her to become pregnant at just 16 and a half , living on baby milk and baby food for a year as the husband refused her money. 
Also having to give up her first child due to circumstances beyond her control. Also three years on after the birth of a beautiful son' yet!  Again had to give him up because of lack of housing.. babies weren't welcome.
But as the years go on,  Ann develops the resilience and courage to face life head on and pursue her goals with vengeance... Inspired by a desire to share the lifetime of lessons she has learnt ... to help others and encourage them to keep moving towards their goals, Ann is an inspiration to old and young. 
She describes these later years of her life as the best, in fact she say's,.... 
'Life wasn't all a 'Field of Buttercups, until now!' 
.....I have learnt the hard way . 

If by reading this book helps you?... avoid making bad decisions, as I have made through lack of knowledge. 
Then I have contributed something to society even if it helps to turn just one person's life around. 

A K Jacques Author....©     

                       HERE IS A FREE GLIMPSE: OF MY PRINTED BOOK 
                                           'PROLOGUE & CHAPTER 8'

                                           'Prologue' 


 When I look back at my life, there are joys, tears and failures. 
Especially, believing  that people I loved and trusted would guide me without desiring anything in return. I trusted many who simply let me down. After countless wrong decisions, I now know how easily mistakes are made. And these mistakes can take years to repair. I was simply never ready for my life ahead.

As a teenager, I never realised how essential it was to stay at school and do well. I wish I'd understood how significant school was in shaping my life. Education provides the chance of getting a decent job with good pay. I wish I'd understood that with a good job I could have met people along the way with similar goals - people who could think for themselves, who had ambitions and a desire to get ahead in life. 

I missed out on this - the life of an independent working woman. 
Instead, I settled down in a committed relationship with the responsibility of child and living in a crummy flat with no amenities, high rent and a rotten property owner who didn't give dam, as long as he got his rent money. 
Once I took this life pathway, I was stuck there. My hopes, dreams and goals started to disappear as quickly as the reality of my life showed its ugly face. I wish I'd have known then what I know now, especially when it came to choosing my life partner, If I was able to go back in time and give my young self some advice, I would tell her: 

Like and respect the person you choose to share your life with. 
Having the same goals and incentives helps you to motivate each other. 
Having the same interests is a bonus. Find someone who is always willing to discuss situations as they arise, and compromise so that joint decisions can be made. And remember to plan your moves. Look at all of your options, think logically and remain positive and you are less likely to go wrong. But also remember that there will always be unexpected mishaps in life. These will often happen through no fault of your own. This is simply life, and what a roller coaster it is! Everyone has to deal with certain traumas at one time or another and everyone has their own story to tell.

This is my story....the story of Kathleen Ann Hughes....

 by Ann Jacques © 2010


                                                     Chapter 8



Mum and Stan met Ben's parents and settled on a marriage date as soon as possible.
It was arranged for April 2 1953....the soonest date available at the registry office.
Our honeymoon was in Brighton. After the entire trauma of having to organise a quick wedding, our families seemed alright together. Ben and I tried to put the strain between us aside. I guess we suddenly felt more grown up now we were married. While on our honeymoon, I surprisingly began to feel more secure and happier about having a husband. Just like my childhood holiday with the ladies in black, I realised I had to try and make a bad situation better. 

On returning, from our honeymoon, we rented two rooms in my new 'mother- in- laws' best friend's house. Luckily, I'd always had to put the dinner on for mum, so I could cook. On the other hand Ben's mum, Ivy , liked to cater to him.  
The relationship was not too bad,between us. In fact, I felt quite happy. At least I was away from my mother and Stan with their constant arguing and nagging. 
I enjoyed looking after our two little rooms, and having a husband. 

It wasn't long before problems started to occur in our relationship. Ivy's friend Gladys didn't like me very much, because I did things differently to her. 
I wasn't spending any time with her because I felt we  had nothing in common.    She started causing trouble by telling Ben things I was doing wrong. He always seemed to take woman's side, as she was older, and his mother's best friend. He started criticising me and this made me cry. I always tried my very best in the house but no matter what I did, she would find some fault and tell Ben. Eventually Ivy his mother even started having a go at me. I think she secretly wanted her son back for herself.

Ben and I would go out Saturday evenings to the local club where his mates had saved seats for us. I always felt uncomfortable because his mates passed snide remarks constantly throughout the evening, stirring him on because he had to get married. They remarked about he couldn't spent money on beer. it was for the baby clothes. I knew he hated it and would get back at me later. Soon after, 
I stopped going out. Ben deeply resented the whole situation. He made good money so there shouldn't have been a problem but he just didn't want to use it  to keep 'unwanted baggage 'me and the baby. 
He confirmed that by giving me the bare minimum of housekeeping money.

Ben had to sell his motorbike to help towards the costs of the baby. What made things worse were the nights when he continued to go down the club with his mates and they started cracking their jokes about him being 'tied down' I didn't know Ben sold his motorbike, I certainly never asked him too. He never talked to me about the financial affairs.  Once I found out, it was obvious he blamed me and never forgave me. He should have thought about that and the consequences before he forced me on the floor that night.  

One morning I woke up feeling unwell. I had stomach pains and was anything it would feel. As I headed off to the kitchen to prepare a snack, Gladys came into the room. She looked at me strangely and asked if I was alright. 
Instinctively I immediately thought, 'what have I done wrong now?'
 'You look like you're in labour', she said. 
The next thing I remember is an ambulance arriving to take me to hospital. Indeed I was in labour. Luckily, I had packed my suitcase a month before my due date as I was instructed by the clinic.

At the hospital, I was giving a pubic shave, an enema and a bath. I felt violated. After being clothed in the appropriate hospital-issued gown, I awaited the birth of my child. I was so frightened, not knowing what to expect. All I was told was to breathe in the gas and air when I felt each pain coming.
I lay on the hard bed in the hospital labour ward alone for hours, thinking I was going to die. Time seemed to move ever so slowly. All I could do was to watch the clock in my line of vision, taunting me with its hands that just seemed to stand still. 

But at last my lonely drawn out ordeal came to an end as I finally gave birth to a baby girl. A beautiful and perfect little thing I had ever seen. I remember staring into her big blue eyes and feeling an incredible surge of love. What an amazing feeling it was to hold my daughter in my arms. Everyone commented on how gorgeous she was. After ten days, we went home and were overwhelmed by visitors bringing all the usual baby presents. Even my work friends visited in their lunch hour. I was especially excited to receive a lace christening gown from my Auntie Betty in South Africa.

I don't know how we acquired the flat we moved into. Ivy and Gladys didn't want us there with the baby in the house. Our new unufurnished flat was above a shoe repairer's shop in town  it was on the main street, Oxford Street. 
Our entrance was in an alleyway at the back of the property. Fox's Glacier Mints stood at the back.

We had an agreement with the owner of the shoe repair shop or 'cobblers' as it was called in the old days, I would mind the shop for a couple of hours whilst the owner went on his lunch break. I also had to keep the place clean. There were two flights of stairs to the old terrace. The stairs were very narrow, steep and dark and I had to trek up and down the stairs many times throughout the day. 

We had a kitchen with a glass door into the lounge come bedroom. We had no running water and no drainage so every drop of water in and out of the flat had to be carried in buckets down the two flights of stairs and into the yard where there was a drain and a tap. It was very primitive. Having a child was taboo and limited your choice in rented accommodation because no one liked the idea of a crying child.

Life was unbelievably hard. I washed nappies by hand, boiling them up in a large container on top of the cooker to kill the bacteria, then rinsing several times till the water became clear. It took a whole morning to wash twelve nappies. I lost loads of weight, getting down to only five stone. It seemed all I was ever doing was carrying water up and down stairs. The only rest I received was when I was feeding Sherly. I enjoyed this immensely and tried to spend as much time with her as time would allow.

When Ben wanted a bath, I had to carry loads of water up the stairs and boil it. We had a tin bath near the coal-fuelled fire. Coal also had to be brought upstairs in a coal bucket. It was exhausting, however, I was determined to succeed and always managed to prepare hot meals for Ben when he arrived home from work. He was a painter and decorator by trade and made good money including the extra he made on the side. But I saw very little of it. Ben only ever gave me enough money to buy baby food for Sherly.

Finally, he started refusing me money indefinitely - a tactic that I believed was to force me to leave him, with him looking like the innocent party. I knew him all too well. I did not have a job because of my baby, so Ben used that as his manipulating tool. I insisted that he gave me the baby's milk money and others things Sherly needed or else I would report him to the Welfare Society. 
But I also needed to survive. I lived on baby food for months, Ben was pretty switched on when it came to what was needed so I had to watch my buying. 
I doubled the quantities of the food that Sherly was using so he would not get angry he believing it was all for her, but It fed me too. 
If he ever questioned or antagonised me about it I would tell 'babies do grow.' He would not dare refuse because he knew I would report him to the welfare officer.

Sherly soon began teething and getting nappy rash. I tried using ointment on her rash, but it gave her no relief. With the baby's constant crying, Ben got angry and we started to fight. 
 
Sometimes Ben would arrive home late and drunk after I had tried to keep his dinner warm in the oven. I'd put it on the table for him but he would leave it until it went cold, then he would complain. After many nights like this and several arguments I found out he was going home to his mother's, for dinner then after going out to the club with his mates. 

As time passed, our arguments escalated and Ben began hitting me. I felt such hatred for him as I fought back to defend myself. Then he would grin and say things to convince me it was all my fault. Then he would say sorry I would fall for all charm as he begged me to make up with him. 

At one stage, I thought I was pregnant again and told him when I thought he was in a pleasant mood. Ben went berserk and deliberately pushed me down the stairs saying, 'you're having no child'. Luckily I was not badly hurt, just bruising my ankle. It turned out I was not pregnant, 'thank God', and knew I would 'never fall pregnant with such a 'monster ever again. 

I knew I had to get out of that abusive relationship because Ben was drinking more heavily and more frequently, and getting more violent towards me. I was so worried and had no one to help me, not even my family. They had shunned me - back then getting pregnant before marriage was considered a crime.

After months of trauma, I was beginning to get sick of trying to make it work with Ben. The carrying of water up and down the stairs and working in the shop began to tell on me and I was getting more mentally exhausted by the arguments, along with not being able to see anyone. Even if I had the time to see anyone, it meant long bus journeys to the outskirts of town. I had to be there for Ben or I would be in trouble. Then there were problems with Sherly's teething. I really needed somebody to help me. I was just seventeen years old and I felt completely powerless and depressed without any idea of how to get out of my situation.

One evening Ben was so violent I ran to the police station for help. The police told me they were unable to interfere in domestics and I would have to sort out the problems I had with my husband by myself. I was too terrified to go back home to Ben on my own, so a police officer escorted me home. When we arrived, Ben had locked me out and Sherly was inside. The policeman was not allowed to force entry so I picked up a brick and smashed the glass door in order to open the Yale lock to the back door. The police officer and I then headed up the stairs. He assured me that I would not get hurt and he would try to calm the situation down.

Ben was shocked that I had brought a police officer with me and instantly started accusing me of being the cause of our problems in order to make him look good. Of course, I retaliated by arguing back. The police officer obviously saw that our relationship was beyond repair when he told us both that if we couldn't get along , we should both 'just call it a day'.

After that night, Ben became pleasant and we stopped arguing for a while. 
He definitely had an ulterior motive. Ben had been so mentally and physically cruel to me. He would manipulate everything to be my fault, and at times I believed him. His abuse had worn me down and weakened my self-esteem and self-confidence. I was totally dependent on Ben and all I wanted was a happy family.

There I was mainly living on baby food and whatever money I could trick Ben into giving me. Then Ben started taking the wireless to work, so I was not able to listen to music or news during the day. He also started tearing up the 'Leicester Mercury' evening newspaper, the one paper I loved, so I could not read it if I had a minute during my chores. Eventually, he started giving me the silent treatment and when I spoke he would ignore me and leave to go to the pub, not even coming home afterwards. 

I simply did not care, and was even relieved not to have to be watching what I said and did around him. This continued until Sherly was eleven months old. 
I was so worn down from the baby, house maintenance and my marriage problems. I realised things were not going to get better if I stayed with Ben. 
I was tired of not eating properly and realised this was not the ideal situation. But there seemed to be no alternative but to just get on with it.

by Ann Jacques © 2010

I hope you enjoyed reading the Prologue & Chapter 8 
Giving an insight to what life is like and the personalities of these abusive men....they persuade you into believing it's all your fault, they are so convincing....but believe me its NOT you....get away while your still sane....  There is lots more.....

I AM AVAILABLE TO BE A GUEST SPEAKER AT YOUR EVENTS OR SEMINAR.
PLEASE CONTACT ME BY E/MAIL:
ann.jacques@bigpond.com 
 

'LOOK BELOW:  ALSO AN E/BOOK & AUDIO NOW! Go below for details at the 
Web site: 
Visit http://www.eBookIt.com   or  e/mail publisher@eBookIt.com   For your eBook  of :
'Little Ann's Field of Buttercups' by Ann K Jacques
Book list catalogue: Biography/Memoirs 
NOW E/BOOK & AUDIO/BOOK / MP3  AVAILABLE FROM:   http://www.eBookIt.com 
'Little Ann's Field of Buttercups'  True story about a girl  down on her luck through lack of knowledge and understanding of life......may help a young reader change their life's path.........by Ann k Jacques

Wanna buy mailto: ann.jacques@bigpond.com  my e/book!  Also available on Amazon , Fishpond, Barnes & Noble, Apple Ipad, Google. and others.

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'Printed version'  
'Little Ann's Field of Buttercup's' 

The life of a naive fatherless girl, bought up in the 50's... 
Sexual Abuse
An age where children were seen and not heard. 
Trauma of a teenage pregnancy. 
Living on baby milk, 
Abusive marriage 
Adoption
                                                  Mental Breakdown
This is a true story!   Read more!

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