The Great Escape. Journey South. Part One.

Instinctively I did not take to the woman. There was no kindly greeting, no reassuring smile, just a quick glance sizing me up. Then the ingratiating false niceness directed towards my welfare officer.
The year was 1960. At 13 years old I was a seasoned old pro where foster carers were concerned. There had been several in my life. I had only been here two minutes, and already I had the measure of this one. I did not like her sullen, hard  face, or her severe short hair. I did not like how tidy she looked, and I did not like how clean and scrubbed the house was. It did not bode well.

The situation I found myself in, was all of my own doing. Another bust up with Mum and her new husband Jimmy. Their constant arguing, left me worried and anxious. I did not know how to deal with it, other than running away, and living rough. At night sleeping in haylofts or barns. Eventually, cold, dirty, and hungry, I would make my way to the welfare offices, and seek out my case worker. She would then accompany me to the corporation bathhouse, for a scrub up, and a change into clean clothes. I remember the bathhouse fondly.

After the welfare officer had left, I was shown up to my room. I say my room, but it was in fact more of a small dormitory. There were four beds crammed into it. Three singles and one double.
She went to a large tallboy and pulled open a drawer. "This will be your drawer, put your things in here and keep it tidy," she instructed.
My things amounted to one change of clothes in a brown paper carrier bag. The drawer would be plenty big enough.
"You will be sleeping in the big bed," she said.
That was all right. I liked plenty of room.
She went through the house rules with me. There were a lot of them, but I stopped listening after the first couple. I had been institutionalised from a baby. I knew all the rules, I had heard them, or variations of them, many, many times.

That night I was awoken by someone climbing into bed beside me! What the..! I moved over to the furthest edge against the wall, and froze. It was pitch dark and I was disorientated. Where was the door? How could I escape this person? Was it one of the other boys?

The intruder did not touch me, or attempt to touch me. He just lay there. After a while the bed began to shake. Oh my God! Didn't he know I was there? He was masturbating! Right beside me! Get me out of here!
Just as I had decided that my only course of action was to leap out of bed shouting for help, he finished what he was doing with a loud groan. Dirty bastard! I hope he goes blind. I had always been warned that masturbation caused blindness. Would serve him right!
Soon he began to snore. I relaxed a little, but kept myself as close to the wall as I could. I slept in fits and starts, waking often, whenever he made the slightest movement.

In the early light of dawn, I stole a look at my unexpected bed fellow. He was a young, spotty faced, man in his mid twenties. Spots! They were another symptom of his dirty habit!
It suddenly occurred to me, that the reason for the double bed, was because I would be sharing with someone else. Bet my welfare officer wasn't told that!

The house was silent, apart from the sounds emanating from those asleep in the room. I slowly worked my way to the end of the bed and climbed over the end board, being careful not to disturb anyone. In the half light I dressed as quickly as I could, retrieved my carrier bag from the drawer, and carrying my boots, crept out of the room, and down the stairs.
Before putting my boots on, I searched the kitchen cupboards for food, and helped myself to half a loaf of bread, which joined my other stuff in the carrier bag. Then, boots on, I let myself out, closing the front door ever so gently behind me.

I had decided to hitch hike to London. Quite a journey for a small lad of 13 years old. Over seven hundred miles, but I thought it would be an adventure. I had two half crowns in my pocket, five shillings. That ought to keep me going for a while. That and the half loaf. It looked like being a nice day. The journey started with my favourite way of traveling. I began running, and didn't stop until I reached the outskirts of Aberdeen, and the main road out of town. Heading south.