Tales Of The Dales (Part 2)

Chalking It Up!

“The problem is and always will be that since David and Dawn have been awarded control of our Mothers money, something that we had not agreed to, that there has been a scam going on with regards to what they are doing with her money…”

It’s said that money is the root of all evil. I don’t believe this to be completely true, but I do believe it can cause people to do evil things. You will notice that it’s mentioned prominently in the first paragraph of my last blog and it was a major factor throughout this whole debacle.

As I’ve mentioned my mum has vascular dementia, and naturally there came a point where she could no longer take care of her finances. Eventually myself and my twin would be awarded deputyship to deal with this, but for years before then I had already been helping my mum out. Dale states that he had not agreed to my twin and I being officially appointed. Well let me set the record straight.

There are several hoops you have to go through and 1001 pages of forms to fill in before you are given control. One particular form had to be sent to all siblings informing them that we were planning on being mums deputies; thus giving them the chance to contest it if they so wished. You had to state how the form was delivered and sign and date it to say that you had done so.

Dales was hand delivered directly to the property. We made sure we took photo evidence to be sure, and at that time we both had access to the property to take care of mum so we saw it every day. The envelope stayed in full view on the countertop unopened for weeks on end. I’m not sure if it was because he saw it had my handwriting on it so he didn’t want to open it, but that’s his business.

Obviously there was a time limit on when he could respond back and he’d missed it and then some. I can well imagine it’s probably still sitting somewhere unopened all these years later. By this point my sister was standing by his side, but she didn’t contest it either. I’m guessing it was before she’d become fully converted.

I know I keep saying this tale is about the past 5 years, but to put things in context I have to go back so you can get a clearer understanding of what’s to come, and so you, like Dale, might understand the reason as to why we are here.

You’d be forgiven for thinking there are only 4 siblings but in fact we have an older brother. He wasn’t mentioned previously as he never actually lived at the house. Myself and my twin are the only ones who were born here, the older 3 were all born in Antigua. He remained there with my grandparents when my mum, Dale and sister came over to England, and when he did finally arrive he lived in London before coming to Slough.

He is 19 years older than me so by the time I was born he would have been old enough to do his own thing once he reached this green and pleasant land. My relationship with all of my siblings are different, but out of the elders he is the one I get on best with…to be fair considering the options it’s no real shocker.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s not perfect by far. Between my father, Dale and himself my impression of men and relationships was a distinctly negative one. I certainly wasn’t going to take any shit from any man and marriage wasn’t worth the paper it was written on.

Don’t worry, someone did eventually break through the barriers! I still take no shit but I am married! But going back to my eldest brother, I have to give respect where it’s due. Without him my early years would have been dry as fuck! I ain’t even lying! Some of my best memories as a youngster were spent in his and his families company.

I don’t want to come straight out and say he was the black sheep of the family but he was the black sheep of the family. Literally. It’s gotta be said, Dale and my sister were decidedly original Oreo with a coconut twist, where he was a bourbon dipped in Bournville. If I’m keeping it 100, I’ve always felt that if we were living back in the times of slavery, should massa’s house and fields suddenly catch afire (👀), three of us would be running for the hills whilst the other two would be throwing buckets of water ‘cause we’s on fire!’ #GuessWho

He was in touch with his Black side and he was like the Pied Piper for me. One blessing my elder 2 siblings gave me was the love of various kinds of music, but he had the ragga and lovers rock tunes. He always had chewing gum or mints and would take us on drives to London. He smoked and drank and had an I-Give-Zero-Fucks kinda attitude and I loved it.

He was where the fun was at, and when we were with him we had the freedom we didn’t have at home. He lived with his partner and kids but they were deemed a little too ‘ghetto’ in certain families eyes, and it would appear in their opinion I was becoming the same way. That being said we were a lil’ ghetto, but all in all we were a little too Black and a little too proud for their liking.

Because he wasn’t around as much he had little to nothing to do or say with how things were run in the house. He’s a character, but ultimately a man of few words. Although he can create it occasionally, he doesn’t do drama and prefers a quiet life and to be left the hell alone, which I can relate to. We’ve definitely got that in common but not quite on the same level! In any case he wasn’t really needed to deal with anything anyway.

Now I’ve semi explained our eldest siblings absence, I’d like to go back to the reason why I was taking care of our mothers finances before being officially appointed to do so. By 2006 my twin had left home. Again this was a decision Dale was the root cause of.

After one particular holiday to Antigua, Dale made his feelings quite clear.

My dad was not the father of my elder siblings, yet for all his faults he still paid to get my mum and 2 children that didn’t belong to him over to England and housed. By all accounts – well from my sister anyway, he was pretty decent up until he left; at least to her, and I’m assuming Dale too. After that his name wasn’t spoken much in the house and if there were any mention, you could see and feel the annoyance of it clearly from my brother.

My dad didn’t just up and leave the home. He was cheating and chipped with another woman to America where he still resides. Dave and I first spoke to our dad via phone when we were six and then again when we were 12. At 16 he paid for my mum, my twin and myself to meet him in the flesh for the first time.

We spent 2 weeks in Philadelphia, and a week with some family in Florida, then returned home with renewed faith in our relationship. We didn’t hear from him again until we were over 30 years old…

By this time Dave and I were well and truly over him, but my mum would still talk to him. She was grown and it was her decision. She was happy enough to take a trip to Philly to go and see him and they were in regular contact. In 2006 my mother and Dale went on holiday to Antigua and were staying with my aunt. It just so happened my dad was over in Antigua too and decided to visit our mother at my aunts house. Big mistake!

Shit blew up, resulting in Dale making his feelings known. Our mother had disrespected him by having anything to do with that lowlife man and bringing him anywhere near him. He had spent the best part of his youth clearing this mans mess and in doing so did not get to live the life or do the things he wanted to do. How could she have the front to rub this man in his face?

He shouted at them all that he was owed for his years of sacrifice and when they got back to England he would be throwing Dave out of the house. Naturally mum was very upset and my aunt called and told us what had gone down. It was at that point Dave decided he wasn’t going to wait around for it to happen and left. #TwoDownOneToGo

When he was living at home, either Dave or I use to get the food shopping for mum as we were both driving and mum couldn’t. She would venture out down to Ali’s and the post office or to the high street, and would pop in to see her friends occasionally, but she would mainly communicate by phone. My sister likes to deny this but she would very rarely come to the house. She’d keep in contact with mum regularly by phone, but you could count the number of times she actually stepped foot in the house on a yearly basis on one hand.

Again, Dale was the main reason for this and before she’d drunk the Kool Aid.

She’d always had a touch of the Hyacinth Bucket about her (loving, long suffering husband to boot!) but she was right on this occasion in thinking our brother should do more around the house. It wasn’t run down but it was definitely shabby. When Dale first moved in he gave mum £20 a week to begin with but that soon fizzled out within a few months. So considering he was working 6 days a week and occupied the majority of the rooms in the house whilst living there rent and bill free, really the least he could do is help fix up the gaff, right?

When Dave left I took over getting mums shopping for her. She’d write a list and leave me the money and I’d go and get her bits, and if she needed anything or taking anywhere I was always the go to person, which I didn’t mind. She is my mum after all. It’s what you do, right?

In 2007 I got another sign of the man I was dealing with. The incident with him in Antigua and other incidents up until this time already had me watching him sideways and accumulated a few more lines on the chalkboard, but he was to open my eyes even further. Early one morning Dave got a call from Dale who informed him our mum wasn’t feeling well. She’d been up all night and he’d sat with her and made her a cup of tea but she wasn’t looking good and he had to go to work so…

I’ll just let that marinade with the fact that by this time our mother is 72 years old…

Naturally Dave told him to call a fucking ambulance and said he was making his way to the house. By the time he got there the ambulance had already arrived and as he walked in, Dale walked out and went to work.

Dave accompanied mum to the hospital where he called me from. By this time I was working at Next and had just got to work. He told me to stay there for now until they’d assessed her and he’d let me know as soon as there was any news. I called my sister and told her what had happened. She too, like the both of us, was disgusted at Dales behaviour. A little while later Dave called back to say it was a suspected heart attack. I left work, collected my sister and we made our way to the hospital.

Mum spent a week in Wexham Park before a further 2 weeks at Royal Brompton Hospital following double bypass surgery. Between the 3 of us we had every day she was in hospital covered. Dale didn’t visit her once, yet he could tell people on road how she was doing. KMT!

From that day forth I took over doing not just the food shopping, but drawing her pension and making sure all of her bills were paid on time. This is how I know for definite that he contributed jack shit towards the household apart from his own phone bill, although he was still running up her bill as her statements would show. Any appointments she had I took her to. Any item she wanted buying I’d get it for her.

She was never in any kind of debt and although she received housing benefit she was always in credit on the amount she was supposed to pay. I always gave her £60 cash each week which she’d tuck away and the rest was left in her account.

I can’t confirm it, but I believe he’d seen the signs of mums mental health decline pretty soon after it arose and knew it was the perfect time to conduct another part of his master plan. My intentions had been clear from the start. After all I was there for her as much as I possibly could be since after her heart surgery and it was NEVER raised as an issue.

There was no hint of me being accused of trying to rob her at that time because then it was just a case of several less jobs they had to do and he had nothing to gain. Now however, there was a window of opportunity.

The problem isn’t Dave and I having control of our mother’s finances. The problem is and always will be that I put a stop to him trying to bleed our mother dry.

R.I.P Ric Ocasek and to all those who have lost their lives this week.