I'm nobody special, but I felt the story of how my only son, Tommy, became my Master is a story worth telling. My name is Dorothea Samuels, born and raised in north England. After an unspectacular childhood I married fairly young after my boyfriend, who I was physically attracted to but never loved, got me pregnant. Both our parents insisted we got married, even though we'd only been dating for a few months. It was what you were expected to do in those days.
My hastily arranged husband, Stanley, treated me well during the pregnancy and I figured we just had to make the best of it. But when Tommy was born my husband struggled to cope with all the crying and sleepless nights and a distance grew between us. I felt like he blamed me for somehow luring him into fatherhood, when in fact it was him who had been cavalier about contraception.
So from the start, it felt like it was just me and my son. Stanley would spend as little time as possible with me, drinking at the bar when he wasn't working. As Tommy grew up my husband began having affairs. When I caught him red handed, when I found another woman's lingerie in his suitcase, he took a turn for the worse. Now that I'd spoilt his fun by finding out about his infidelities he hit the bottle much harder and became a mean, violent alcoholic.
My poor son would have to listen to the heated arguments late at night, sometimes hearing me scream as Stanley beat me. I would do my best to cover the bruises with make up, but Tommy knew exactly what was happening. If I'd only been stronger I would have left with Tommy and never looked back. But, at the time, I didn't feel I would cope on my own and felt Tommy needed his father in his life.
I stuck with Stanley as long as I could until one night he tried to strangle me and only let go at the last minute. Only the thought of life in prison held him back, I honestly believe. He just hated being a husband and a father, his nature was far too selfish for a family life.
After that, I told him I wanted a divorce and he mercifully agreed, on the grounds of irreconcilable differences. We got it over with as soon as we could and I moved into a house out in the country with Tommy. He was fourteen by then and I'd hoped he was old enough to handle his parents splitting up.
But, without a father figure in his life, Tommy began getting into trouble at his new school. Although Stanley had been a lousy dad, his propensity for violence and his hot temper had kept Tommy in line. Now he saw no reason to behave and he certainly wasn't scared of me. The calls from his school became daily and I worried he was going to get himself expelled. With plenty of pleading letters to the headmaster, I managed to avoid that at least and he passed most of his exams with the help of private tutors.
But he didn't have any interest in higher education and I became very concerned for his future. Even though he was unruly and unpredictable he was always very athletic and disciplined when it came to staying in shape. I suggested he join a gym and that provided a focus for all his energy and aggression. Building up muscles also got girls interested in him. With his jet black hair and brooding, moody good looks he was quite a catch and he spent a good while sowing his wild oats. But then he started stealing other people's girlfriends and getting into brutal fights with their boyfriends. He could never stay on the straight and narrow path for very long.
Things came to a head when an angry father turned up at our house, wanting to put Tommy in hospital for seducing his daughter, who was engaged to be married. Tommy heard his ranting and confronted him on the doorstep, which led to a scuffle and Tommy getting arrested for assault. After this, he agreed he didn't want to spend his life in and out of prison. With his naturally active and disciplined approach towards exercise and keeping fit, I suggested he would do well if he joined the Army.
Even though he wasn't known for obeying rules and orders, he had a respect for the Armed Forces and surprised me by agreeing to apply. I felt this could be a changing point in Tommy's life and I was over the moon and absolutely astonished when my troubled son was accepted after passing all the tests required. But then, with a name like Tommy, I realised that becoming a soldier suited him. I truly hoped that he would last the pace and the army would give him the stable career he so desperately needed.
When he left to stay at the army barracks I was surprised by how much I missed him, but he would write me letters every week informing me of his progress. He sent me glowing reports of his behaviour from his superiors and I could tell he was trying his hardest to make the grade. But, at the back of my mind, I always worried about the hot temper he'd inherited from his father.
Although Tommy was physically tough, he was still very emotionally troubled by all the drama with his father and the acrimonious divorce. This meant that he was thin skinned and quick to take offence. As anyone who knows what life in the army is like, the high ranking officers think nothing of tearing you apart with verbal abuse, which they justify as part of the training process. I suppose you can't have trained soldiers becoming upset by verbal insults.
But this character flaw turned out to be Tommy's downfall and one letter he sent informed me that he had been formally disciplined for aggressive behaviour towards a superior. He promised me that he'd been heavily provoked and that it wouldn't happen again, and I hoped for the best. Tommy obviously did try to conform as he stayed out of trouble for a few months.
But I sensed it wouldn't be long before his anger management deserted him and, knowing him well, I knew that his high sex drive was also not helping him contain his aggression. He was red blooded by nature and sexual relations between male and female soldiers are strongly discouraged. He sent me another letter one week saying he'd received another warning for inappropriate behaviour towards a female soldier and it just seemed a matter of time before something else would happen. As much as I'd hoped Tommy was mature enough to cope with the rigours of life in the Army, I sensed deep down that his belligerence would prove to be his Achilles heel.
I began to worry one week when I hadn't received a letter from him and no phone call either. Not hearing from him at all had me having sleepless nights, but I still remember a loud knock on the door during a Thursday night thunderstorm. My heart was in my mouth as I nervously opened the door but it was a relief to see Tommy stood in the doorway, soaked through from walking home from the train station with a heavy rucksack on his back.
"Tommy....what happened?"
"They threw me out of the Army. I've been avoiding telling you....".
I brought him in out of the rain and, after a hot shower, he came downstairs to tell me he'd been given a dishonourable discharge for assaulting a senior army officer. I couldn't help but cry, but that was mostly relief at knowing he was still ok. He took my tears as disappointment but I assured him I was still proud of him and loved him. I had just hoped army life would have been the making of him. Now he was back to square one.
"Oh Tommy, I know the high ranking officers love to belittle the soldiers, but they were trying to knock you down to build you up. I suppose you just couldn't stop the red mist forming this time. I hope you didn't get hit back."
Tommy looked at the floor and said, "I knocked him out. I shouldn't have done it. I've really let myself down this time. It was good in the army....I could have been a good soldier".
"You can be proud that you made the grade, Tommy. A lot of people wouldn't even pass all their tests and requirements. But you never could handle authority figures very well. Maybe you need to find a job where you're your own boss?"
Tommy didn't say anything but nodded slowly, taking this in. Little did I realise how seriously he would take my words, but at that moment I feared for his future, as there was only so long I could financially support him. And, besides, his ego would never accept his own mother having to bail him out financially in his adult life. Although he didn't realise it yet, he'd entered the army as a boy and returned as a man.
That wasn't immediately obvious in the weeks that followed. Although he went to the gym religiously every day he would stay in his room surfing the internet most nights. That surprised me, he'd never been one for the internet, he thought it was for incels and losers. But this was the beginnings of a career I could never have predicted in a million years.
After about six weeks of being a bedroom introvert one day he announced that he'd gotten a job as a barman working night shifts. I was pleased to see he was turning the corner after his army disappointment and said to him this could be the first step on the ladder to something better. He agreed and said he would try his hardest to make it work.
My only concern was that his temper might get the better of him when dealing with difficult customers, but I also knew his ability to look after himself was a definite bonus in that working environment. As the weeks passed, I noticed his shifts seemed to be rather erratic hours which I found a bit odd, but he always had some semi-convincing explanation.
I also noticed he was spending money on designer clothes, which seemed extravagant on a barman's wages. I was just pleased he was at least working and taking pride in his appearance. I reminded myself that he could have taken a nosedive after getting discharged from the army, he could have gotten himself hooked on drink and drugs.
So I was prepared to look the other way when the anomalies in what he told me became more and more apparent. He would come home very late, even on weekdays, and I'd stay up as I found it hard to sleep without his reassuring masculine presence in the house. But when he would come home at 2 or 3am reeking of women's perfume, I knew he was lying about where he'd been.
I kept up this pretence for months, but when I saw he'd bought a Maserati without even telling me, I knew I had to say something. There was simply no way he could afford a car like that working in a bar and I knew it was high time we got to the bottom of the matter. In his arrogance, he thought I knew so little about cars that I wouldn't suspect something amiss at a £20k car sat in our drive, looking magnificent compared to my rather more modest Dacia Duster.
I had to wait a while for him to be even in the house for longer than five minutes, but he had a strange look on his face when I told him we needed to talk.
"Tommy....you need to stop lying to me. You say you're working in a bar, then you start walking round in designer shirts and expensive shoes. You say you're working late every night, but sometimes I can smell the perfume on you. And you're insulting my intelligence by buying that Maserati and not expecting me to ask questions. I think you've been lying to me for a long time now, Tommy. I think I deserve the honest truth. Are you involved in crime?"
That was my greatest fear, that he'd gotten himself involved in drug dealing, even though he looked after himself physically and didn't touch them himself.
Tommy sighed and sat on the sofa opposite me, putting his head in his hands.
