Prologue
Jackie and her husband Tim sat nervously awaiting the news. They had been in that exact situation so many times before. And every time, it was the same conclusion. The treatment had not worked. Jackie had not fallen pregnant. But every time they made the journey, hope was reborn.
As their names were called, knots formed in their muscles and butterflies seemed to be dancing in their bellies. They held each others hands tightly, knuckles turning white; knees weak. The walk to the office appeared to become longer and more tiresome each and every time.
The door swung open and they were greeted warmly by Dr Abdul. He took each of their hands in turn, offering a gracious handshake. They sat down awkwardly in their seats at the wave of his hand. Their minds whirring dizzily with thoughts of this being the time they got lucky.
Dr Abdul’s expression sobered as he relayed the much anticipated news. “Mr and Mrs Atwell, I would like to offer to you both my sincerest apologies in telling you that the treatment has again not worked. You are not pregnant. I’m sorry.”
Jackie’s world promptly crumbled. Gone again were her hopes of bearing seed, they crashed to their knees, disabled and heartbroken. Tim consoled his spouse. He too was desperate for children, he longed for a little boy of girl to be there when he got home from work, to leap off the couch, land in his arms and tell him all about their day. Instead he arrived home every evening met by his tired wife who listened to him talk about what he had been working hard to achieve that day, but offered little reply of her own.
They arose to leave, their hearts heavy. As they reached the old, beaten door, the Doctor stopped them.
“Can I just add off the record, that in my opinion as a Doctor, you’re unlikely to ever conceive and carry through to full term. It would be wise for you to consider your other options, which I’m sure in your respective jobs, you know all about. I’m not saying you shouldn’t try again, I’m just giving you my advice as a friend. I’ve watched you struggle up-hill so many times.” He shook his head slowly. “Please consider all of your options carefully.” A genuine smile played on his lips. His heart went out to them. Every day he dealt with couples who through no fault of their own could not conceive naturally, and every night he had to travel home to his own home there were children waiting. And even though he knew he shouldn’t, he felt guilty for having them when so many people couldn’t.
The drive home was gloomy to say the least. A tangible atmosphere clung heavily around them, spurring on no conversation. His gaze lay sullenly on the road ahead and hers on the scenery now dulled by her pain, neither speaking. A solitary tear formed in the corner of her eye and trickled silently down her cheek; old territory. It was quickly replaced by another, and another, until she could no longer hide her tears from her husband, letting them flow freely, previously stifled sobs joining the singular tears from deep in her chest.
On hearing her crying, Tim reached across from the gear stick and tenderly placed his hand on her knee, squeezing it gently to show his support. “It’s going to be okay”
How is it? She wanted to scream it loudly, making him understand. How could it ever be ok when they still weren’t pregnant. In nine months time, no baby was going to be handed to her, taking it’s first miraculous breath, stretching it’s new lungs, but she couldn’t find the words. Instead she simply replied “I know.”
Chapter 1
Silence.
That must mean the big people are gone. Ava’s four year old mind concluded. She slid out from under the tattered blanket she’d been pretending to sleep under, and hopped delicately off the wooden slab she used as her bed.
She crept silently down the stairs into the gloomy sitting room. The curtains were parted slightly, allowing a slither of daylight in, just enough to reflect rays off her once golden, now dirty mass of hair. As always, the room was a mess. It was heavily adorned with once shiny things, things that held some kind of distorted pride for the big people. Ava didn’t understand it, all she knew was that they showed more affection for those things that they owned, then her.
A musty smell hung heavily in the air, not that she noticed it anymore. There was old food draped carelessly over dirty plates, and filthy clothes strewn over the fading furniture.
She carefully chose the tastiest looking food, grabbing it before hunger tore her stomach apart. Ava ate only a little though, the rest had to be saved for later. Ava turned to move and almost fell over a pile of heavy looking books on the floor. They were piled almost as tall as she was. On their spines were words could not comprehend, words like ‘Contract Law in Practise’ and ‘The Legal Practice Companion’. She loosely recalled seeing the big people looking at these books late at night when she crept downstairs, just so she didn’t have to be alone. She would sit on the stairs, careful to make no sound, and listen to them use big words and discussing ‘court’ whatever that was. When she dared to look round the corner for a moment, they were always engrossed in whatever was inside them, she did not understand how these square objects with funny letters could hold such a fascination.
She edged her way carefully round them so as to leave them undisturbed and stalked through to the kitchen. She clambered onto an empty chair and stretched over the lip of the sink. She then turned the metal taps on full to capture the gushing water in her cupped hands, drinking hurriedly. Upon quenching her thirst, she skulked around the rest of the house, checking for anything unusual.
A loud unexpected noise come from the back garden. Ava froze in a crouched position behind the settee, listening intently for any following sounds to give away the perpetrator. A familiar scratching came at the back door followed by a quiet, hesitant whining then, more scratching. She sprung into action, almost dancing her way to the back door, any apprehension had fled. She jumped onto the work surface to bring the locks into her reach. Her excitement was building, small gurgles escaped her and she was almost chuckling.
She opened the door opened slowly so as to make minimal noise. Ava then stepped round it as it was open part way, and greeted her only friend enthusiastically. In return she received a thorough face washing with his tongue. The shaggy white mongrel bounded around her, tail held high in expectant glee.
Ava reaching into her pocket and produced the rest of her food. This sent her friend into a minor frenzy, dancing in ever tightening circles, barking joyfully. Ava clamped her finger to her lips and ushered a sinister “Shh!” emulating her parents as she did so. This seemed to calm him down sufficiently to offer the tasty morsel. A smile returned to her pale face, as she started their little game. It started with Ava creating a tiny fist and raising it above her head, this made her friend fall on the floor and pretend to be dead as though after a beating, she giggled and changed her hand formation from a fist to a five. This brought him back onto his feet and sitting beautifully in front of her, left paw lifted, a pleading in his eyes. She tossed the food for him and he leapt into the air catching it neatly. She mimed clapping at his antics, her eyes twinkling.
The sun was beginning to tire their enthusiasm, the heat beating down on their bodies. Shade was nowhere readily available. Ava reluctantly left her playmate and shuffled indoors. The dog whined for a few moments, then returned through the hole in the fence to where ever he resided when not playing with her.
A cool corner of the living room offered the shade for which she had been searching. Gratefully she huddled herself behind the sofa and relished in the cool. Her body ached after its previous activity and her lids drooped. She knew she should be hiding upstairs, so that when they returned, they wouldn’t be cross. But she was so tired. Sleep took her, her frail body now slumped and regenerating.
A key turning in the lock jolted Ava out of her slumber. Eyes threw themselves open, limbs rigid. She shrunk lower behind the couch, hoping they wouldn’t notice her long enough to sneak back upstairs where she belonged. The big people were laughing together, a good sign, as it wasn’t the laughter she heard when they were talking of doing unmentionable things to Ava, but the one where they’d been drinking, and spirits were high.
She crept along in the shelter of the sofa, hugging the wall as she went. Her parents sauntered into the room, flicking off their suits as they went, him loosening his tie. They were muttering between themselves about their day just spent working hard to feed their ‘ungrateful wretch.,’ about the clients that they both liked and despised.
The mother carelessly grabbed the things to be disposed of and shoved them into the bin, thinking that it would make the house presentable. In reality it needed a complete renovation after years of neglect. They moved sluggishly into the kitchen to start the evenings boozing and as soon as they had left, Ava darted as quietly as she could upstairs and threw herself under her blanket, body heaving from the exertion. Moments later her Father came upstairs to check on her. The door opened and Ava squinted to see what was happening. He poked his head around the door, casting his eyes quickly on the room, then resting for a moment on her face. He turned on his heel and as he descended the stairs, called to his wife “Yeah. She’s asleep, lazy devil. Want me to wake her?”
“No. Wait ‘til after we’ve had a few drinks, else she’ll just get in the way”
He grunted his agreement and joined her for their evenings entertainment; a takeaway and rented DVD. When their appetites had been satisfied, he gathered the leftovers into one of the boxes and marched upstairs to deliver it. He pushed open the door smartly and spoke abruptly “Hey. Ava. Dinner. If you don’t wake up now, it’ll go in the bin”
Ava pretended to stir after a peaceful sleep, and groggily looked at her father. He stomped over and thrust the box onto her bed and without further acknowledging her left. She ate the cold food as though she would never eat again, save it be for the chicken bone that still had a good amount of meat on. She nibbled a tiny portion of it off and saved the rest for the dog, tucking it under her bed to keep it safe.
The persistent gurgling of Ava’s stomach woke her. Every night she awoke hungry and every night she forced herself to ignore it. Sometimes when really bad, she would allow herself some of the food she’d hidden for the dog, but only the bits she didn’t think he would like. But this time she only had chicken for him, and knew how much he loved it.
The idea to try and scrounge from downstairs came to her like an unwelcome visitor who won’t leave long after the welcome had worn out. She could neither sleep nor allow herself the dogs rations, so was left with no alternative but to try and find food. She tiptoed out of her room, careful no to let the doors squeak and then kept to the sides of the stairs, they made less noise. Ava then felt her way through the darkness of the living room, knowing that light could awaken them.
Upon reaching the kitchen, her eyes by then fully adjusted to the dark, she scanned the room for any food left out. None was. The only way to get anything was to open cupboards, the fridge even and borrow some from there. She tried all the cupboards at her level. They all had sturdy child locks on. Her frustration mounting, she flipped opened the fridge door carefully. No food was within her grasp. Her gaze fell higher, to the top shelves. There was some cheese and a yoghurt up there.
She picked up a stool, her arms straining from the weight. She almost dropped it but placed her knees under it to support it. Her heart pounding she carried on being careful not to bang the stool on the floor or cupboards and placed it along side the fridge. She clambered onto it and stretched to reach the food, hunger edging her on. Her fingers brushed the cheese and she over-stretched to grasp it. Her balance swayed and she fell. The stool toppled from under her, throwing her to the ground. The noise shattered the previous silence. Pain shot through her delicate body as she was flung to the floor, she let out a yelp and began to sob.
Within moments the room was bathed in light. Her parents took precious few seconds to gage what must have happened. They saw the fridge door open, stool overturned and Ava. Ava looked up through her tears and tried to explain, but only managed to mumble the few sounds she knew. “Me, dar, hung, my...” She was motioning to her stomach, rubbing it, trying to show them why she’d been naughty. To no avail.
The next thing she saw was her mother come at her armed with anger’s speed. She grabbed the back of her clothes, hauling her to her feet. She began yelling right into her face, words that Ava could not comprehend. Her mother stormed to the other side of the room, letting the father do the rest. He took a fistful of her clothes and lifted her clean of her feet, upon adding his other hand, he shook her while shouting about how wrong it is to steal, about how ungrateful she is for all they do for her. He pressed her face into the open fridge, like a puppy having their nose rubbed in their ‘accidents,’ and used her limp body to slam the fridge door shut. Pain surged through her and she howled in agony. He dropped her to the floor with force, she instinctively curled herself into the foetal position for protection, still sobbing.
Chapter 2
The parents then briefly turned on each other, raised voices arms offering huge gestures of their unhappiness at being woken. Ava kept her head down, not daring to look up, tears soaking the floor, body shaking with fear. A sharp pain shot through her side as she was kicked, followed immediately by a “Shut up!” she bit her tongue in shock, body flinching, she scurried to the corner for protection. She could taste the blood from her tongue. It hurt, but she didn’t dare cry. She peered cautiously through her hair and saw mother storming out and her father coming towards her, arms outstretched ready for him to scoop her up. She stiffened her limbs in apprehension and didn’t resist her father picking her roughly up and throwing her over his shoulders.
The house looked different from way up there, upside down and bobbing up and down with his stride. The rooms as they went were thrust back into darkness, offered no comfort, it only meant she could no longer see what was happening to her. The next thing she was aware of, was being thrown onto her hard bed, which didn’t absorb the shock, she recoiled and threw herself under the blanket. He told her not to dare get out of her bed, or else. She didn’t know what the ‘or else’ was, but it didn’t sound nice.
She strained her ears listening for her parents bedroom door closing. In the silence, the click of the door being shut echoed for a moment and was gone. Ava curled herself tighter under the blanket, as though it would lull her stomach into resting. The grumbling was painful, and her whole body throbbed from earlier on. Bruises working their way through the layers of the skin, ready to form and show off their multicolour rainbows. Visions of what had just happened replayed on her young mind. Distorted pictures, the angry noises, the hunger that started it all. The hunger which was still gnawing at her. The rage in their eyes burned through the hunger, she kept seeing them, staring at her. The hate behind them forcing her to curl even tighter, tears stinging her face silently.
Ava’s whole body throbbed as she stretched on waking. The bruises as promised were tender and fully formed. She could hear her parents were already up, and crept to the landing to hear what kind of mood they were in. Distorted voices in heated conversation filtered upstairs to her eager ears.
“We have to. We have no choice”
“But they might notice her bru...”
“If they do, we can just say she’s clumsy and fell down some steps”
Ava noticed her mothers tone lower as she replied. “And you think they will believe that?”
“They won’t question us. Don’t worry, so much.” He soothed
“I know this promotion is important to you, but I...” The words trailed off, Ava lost interest at the big words she didn’t understand. She clambered and sat back against the wall. She had no idea what it all meant. But they sounded worried about something. The bottom steps creaked, someone was coming up the stairs. Ava fled to her bedroom as quietly as she could at such speed. She had just covered herself with a blanket when her mother walked in.
A bony finger prodded her ribs, jerking her from her pretended sleep. She stirred and turned to face her mother square in the face, trying to hide the fear from her eyes. “Get up” Ava knew that command and quickly complied, standing tall and erect adjacent to her makeshift bed, shaking with anticipation. Her mother curled her fingers tightly around her bony arm, roughly leading her to the bathroom where Father had prepared a bath for her. She tried to jerk herself free, hearing the water sloshing in the bath, awaiting her. Whenever submerged in the water, it was never a pleasant experience. They would scrub her hard, saying she was ‘dirty’, a ‘filthy beast’ and such names. Sometimes she even ended up bleeding from the harsh cleanings, her skin remained red and sore for days. She never knew if she was to get hot or cold water, if hot, she could be sure of being burnt, they never tested the temperature, or so cold she turned temporarily blue.
Panic struck as her father hoisted her to the edge, but the more she struggled, the tighter he would grasp her, the more they would yell. She was kicking and screaming by the time they got her in the water. It was warm. Neither scolding nor freezing her. She was so perplexed by this that she stopped struggling. Just stood there, water gently lapping at her calves, soaking in.
What happened next only served to unnerve her further. No harsh scrubbing brushes that exfoliated whole layers of skin off, but a sponge. A sponge that they gently bathed her with. Ava was more frightened by this behaviour than the customary violence, because it was so different, so alien to how she was treated every other day.
Snapping back to reality she realised that it was over. She was being lifted out of the bath and being dried. She hadn’t struggled since being put into the bath, but this bath was one she would happily repeat if they carried on being these new pleasant parents who she did not know. They didn’t. No sooner had they started drying her, the rough handling started. It wasn’t even a soft towel, Ava noted. They scrubbed her bone dry with the towel, then her father left mother getting her dressed. Her limbs were jerked into their respective parts of the clean clothes she was dressed up in. They smelled funny, she noticed. But she couldn’t place the smell, but it smelled clean and strange. They didn’t look dirty either, she felt very odd in these clothes. She didn’t get to finish her thought train because a spiky brush was being raked through her tangled hair. Her head throbbed as the knots refused to give in easily. She was crying, trying to break free, but arms stronger than her flailing held her in position.
What followed only furthered her confusion at the situation. The front door was swung open, and she was being ushered through it. Sunlight penetrated her eyes and made her look at the floor. A path led towards the cu-de-sacs road, with flowers lining each side symmetrically. She could not remember ever being out there before then. It all looked so prim and proper. Not a blade of grass too long or too short. Ava smiled.
The car awaiting them at the roadside was shiny. So much so that Ava caught a glimpse of her reflection. It did not look like her. It was silver and offered a distorted reflection of the front garden they had just left. The door swung open and Ava flinched, thinking it would hurt her. The parents laughed at this, turning to each other and making gestures out of Ava’s site, about how stupid she was for being scared of a car door. They picked her up and shoved her into the awaiting seat, the mother looked at the seatbelt, and sighed, then slammed the door, leaving Ava nervous and not strapped in.
Ava panicked, she wanted to escape this prison, but as she was scrambling at the door, trying to find a way out, a hand flew round and clipped her arm, then grabbing it and using its leverage to push her back into position. “Get back there and stay still!” He growled at her. She sat rigid to the back of the seat, pressing herself against it as firmly as her strength would allow, a dent of her body shape forming in the leather.
The vehicle started vibrating as the engines roared into action. Ava closed her eyes, trying to block it out, tears forming behind her lids. Visions of her play mate floated onto the stage of her mind, like a calming aura giving her a welcome distraction and pleasant memories. She forced herself to concentrate on him and block out the fear of this contraption that held her bound and was taking her somewhere, somewhere that was not home.
She was jerked out of her trance by her fathers gruff voice giving her a list of instructions she couldn’t comprehend. “Don’t do or say anything wrong. Don’t cry or scream and eat everything your given. Don’t draw attention to yourself. Got it? Or else there will be big trouble when we get home.” She met his eyes in the rear view mirror, they pierced her, sending shivers up and down her bruised body, filling her with fear of the ‘or else’, she knew what that meant, but the rest was beyond her. She began to shake, trembling because she didn’t know what was happening, what was to come or indeed what she was supposed to be doing in the circumstances to come, knowing that the ‘or else’ would be waiting for her at home. Suddenly she didn’t want to go back there quite so much, not without her loyal protector.
The car swerved into a drive not dissimilar to the one she’d just left, and ground to a halt, the tyres grinding on the tiny, white stones. She heard the crunching of footsteps approaching her door. It swung open-this time away from her, and she was lifted out.
As he placed her roughly back on the ground, he reminded her “Remember, be perfect, or else” There were those words again, she thought. He leaned closely and started fiddling with her clothes, making sure she was presentable. She could smell a strong odour, after-shave, he’d called it. It clung to the roof of her mouth and soaked into the taste buds on her tongue. She tried to spit it out, rid herself of the stench, but received a clout round the ear instead for her troubles. “Pack it in, this instant!” His growling was barely above a whisper, but the words were spiked none the less.
Giovanni Villarreal opened the grand door and ushered them in off the porch. Standing in the airy hallway, was a beautiful, smiling woman and a smartly dressed young boy. Ava hid behind her mothers leg, afraid of what she saw. Giovanni broke the silence. “This is my lovely wife Sylvia and my son Jose. Welcome to our humble abode. Please...” He motioned to another room with his arm, a smile still on his face; “...make yourselves at home.”
Ava followed closely behind her mother, who led them into the room shown to them. It was clean, she noted. No piles of books, they all lived on the walls here it seemed; no clothes on the couches; nothing left on the floor, discarded and broken. She decided she liked it there. Giovanni called for her father to join him in the smoke room, to ‘talk business’ he’d said. Her father obediently followed, leaving her with her mother, Sylvia and Jose. Ava peered behind her mother and watched Jose intently. He was about the same size as her, with a dark mop of hair brushing his eyes, and the biggest difference of all was that he was playing. Right there in the middle of this room that seemed so large to Ava, Jose was playing with objects. The likes of which Ava had never even imagined, let alone seen before. She was so involved in watching him play so contentedly, his high pitched laughter ringing in her ears, she wanted to join this child, join in his ecstasy, but didn’t want the ‘or else’ to happen.
“Why don’t you go play with little Jose? Eh?” Sylvia’s voice had seemingly come out of nowhere. Ava squealed. She lashed out, trying frantically to push her away, kicking, flapping her arms, wanting to hide and be invisible again. Sylvia jumped away from Ava, shock drawn over her face like a white sheet. “What’s wrong with her? She ok?” She looked worried, and Jose had stopped his playing, watching the unfolding events with amusement.
Ava’s mother pulled her tightly, stroking her gently, as if reassuring her. Ava wriggled, trying to free herself from the grasp of this scary person who was not acting like the mother she knew. Unperturbed, her mother continued. “Yes, she’s just a little, urm, deaf you see, and, urm, sudden noises frighten her. Sorry about that.” Smiling apologetically, she turned to Ava and motioned with her hands, making shapes, creating the illusion of sign language. She spoke deliberately; “Ava. Go, play, with, Jose, yes?”
Ava listened intently, wishing she knew what all the words meant. But when she pointed towards the boy on the floor, Ava took that as permission to try and join in. She hopped off the couch and shuffled over to him. Hoping he wouldn’t hurt her for disturbing him. He smiled and handed her a toy. She flinched, thinking he was going to throw it, but when she saw he stopped before actually touching her, she tenderly took it from his open hand, and the corners of her mouth upturned. She sat cross-legged on the floor, watching him play, clutching onto the toy he had given her. Her very own toy. He repeatedly stopped his playing, noticing she wasn’t, and glancing at both mothers sat on the couch, also watching. His mother was talking to him, using both English and Italian in short, sharp sentences, smiles painted on both their faces. Ava’s mother on the other hand was hunched over, watching Ava like an angry hawk, tension written over her face.
“You alright? You look a little tense” Her concern was genuine.
Flustered, she fumbled for an answer. “I, urm, yeah, I’m fine. It’s just Ava.”
“What about her? Because she’s deaf?”
She took a deep breath and composed herself. “Yes, but it’s not just that. It’s her violent temper. She lashes out at us for no reason, especially if we’ve just startled her. All we do is love her, and it’s just painful seeing her like that.” Crocodile tears were making her eyes misty. Twisting her hands in her lap, face begging for sympathy. Sympathy which came all too readily from Sylvia, who encircled her arms around her tightly, soothing her with ‘I understand’‘s and ‘It must be so hard’ Ava’s mother lapped it all up, playing the character of wronged victim effortlessly, a coy smile played on her lips when not in view.
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Synopsis
Two stories merging into one.
The first is about a young married couple who are unable to have children naturally, so turn to fostering, with the hope of adopting in the future. Jackie’s first motivation is to have a child to call her own. Her changing motivation is to give Ava the best life possible after its terrible start. Tim’s first motivation is to make Jackie happy, to make a good life for the two of them. He wants kids, but mostly to make Jackie happy. His secondary motivation is to also help Ava. He is a very giving person, and happy when others are, making him easily lost in the crowd. Jackie is the motivator of the two, the driving force, but respects her husband, and will do as he asks.
The other story is of Ava. A young girl who through no fault of her own is living a nightmare. Her parents don’t want her, but they missed the deadline to abort her, and are not afraid to make it known to her how much of a burden she is. They have high flying jobs (he’s almost a lawyer, she’s an accountant) , but are too proud to get any kind of help, be it a nanny, or to have had her adopted. They despise those who they think ‘milk’ the system’ so ‘deal’ with their ‘mistakes’ themselves. They barely speak to her, and if they do, its aggressively. Their motto is ‘children should be seen and not heard’
Her tragedy is discovered when one day while playing with her friend, gets locked out, her parents had got a new locking system, and she obviously didn’t have a clue. She gets locked out, and follows her friend to the front of their large house, and waits patiently to be let back in. A neighbour notices her (none of the neighbours even know they have a child) and tries to speak to her, only to be scared away by the dog. But as neither the dog nor child go anywhere, this rouses the persons suspicion, and she calls the police.
It is hard for them to actually collect Ava, not only because her parents arrive home at the same time as the police, but because the dog protects Ava. Neither the police nor parents can get near her, and when they try, the dog protects her fearlessly, and gets put to sleep. Ava herself is also animal like on handling, she is frustrated at the loss of her friend, and has to be restrained.
Social services get involved and hold Ava in custody. She has to be given some mild sedatives to calm her. She is obviously in a panic as she’s never seen so many people, but also because she’s witnessed her best friend being taken away. She can only growl and gargle, her speech is so poor. She is assessed and its decided she’s to be fostered until the case can go to court.
Jackie and Tim foster her. As they are already ‘inside’ the system, the volunteer to foster her, as they don’t have the facilities to hold her and keep her sedated. They also said that if anyone can look after her and integrate her, it is that family. The process is helped immensely because they have dogs, especially their white German shepherd, which reminds her of the one she lost.
Character biographies
Ava
4 year old girl
Not been out of the house much, so like an under-socialised dog
Unable to speak much
Scared of everything; people, loud noises
Parents never bothered with her, did just enough to keep social services out of it
Almost school age, but never met others her age
Left at home while parents go out to work, the pub
Survives by eating what they leave
When she was able to walk, and her parents were out at work she used to escape to the tiny garden, playing with a local stray dog
Jackie Atwell
29 years old
married to Tim Atwell since she was 22
they have been trying for a baby since she was 24
she loves painting, and decorated their home
an only child
she loves animals and has had long coat German shepherd dogs since she was a tiny girl
she is a quiet person, but can be assertive, will speak her mind when needs be, she is no push over
her mouth can lead her into trouble if she is rubbed up the wrong way
she has loved Tim since she was 19 and met him at a dog show, he was showing poodles
she works for social services as a secretary and she is a part time breeder
Tim Atwell
31 years old
married to Jackie Woodhall since he was 24
he likes sports, especially basketball
comes from a relatively large family, he has 2 older brothers, a younger sister and brother
he does all the DIY around the house, except the decorating, which he lets Jackie deal with
his family were poodle breeders, but has been banned from owning them by Jackie
he fancied Jackie straight away, but took a bit of convincing about the German shepherds
always loved kids
he's quietly authoritative, Jackie may come off as the leader, but if he puts his foot down, she obeys
will not let anyone hurt her, fiercely protective
works as a child psychologist for a social services and private clients
