Chapter 2

The End of "Dolly"

It was not an easy decision to make. Mayor Street had been so much part of their life. Even after they had finallly decided to go, they spent many hours into the night talking of all the people and things they would miss in that little community. Here neighbours' door were always open. True, at the new house they would have a garden and there would be equal opportunity to get to know their new nieghbours. But unless you were brought up in a street like Mayor Street it was impossible to really know the spirit of comradeship that environment sponsored. It was like no other.

So when they finally moved, it was with very mixed feelings. They knew they were doing right for their sons. For Ann's part they were sure it wouldn't matter where they went. For her there could be none of the great excitement, none of the feeling of an enormous adventure. Her world was her chair..and "dolly". Always "dolly".

They took with them a lot of memories of that little house that had been their fortress and their prison. (Mayor street as they knew it then no longer exists. In place of all those grubby little houses are fine new buildings. But to this day, and for the rest of their lives, Jack and Ivy Hodges remember Mayor Street with a deep affection).

On removal day Jack took the boys with him in the furniture van while Ivy had to walk with Ann, not holding her hand but guiding her along with prods in the back like some dumb animal. They had tried desperately hard to get her to hold hands, but it was no use. It just produced those screams. Jack and Ivy faced the inevitable fact. Ann, far from improving was getting worse. And as she grew, so did her strenght. Moving her from one place to another was an enormous, mind-snapping task.

when Jack and the boys arrived at the new house they helped to move the furniture in, and then Jacke made a pot of tea...and waited for Ivy and Ann. He knew they had arrived long before he could see them. Those now familiar dreaded screams echoed through the quiet, tree-lined streets of their new neighbourhood. At least the neighbours weren't going to be left in any doubt as to Ann's capabilities for making a lot of noise. What started the screams, they were to discover later, was the sight of trees and acres of fresh grass. To the child, surrounded all her short life by brick and concrete, those nodding trees and that rippling grass were objects of terror.

That day is one that will never be forgotten by the family. In a way it marked the lowest ebb in their dealings with their daughter. Perhaps in a way it was the beginning of her fight for a new life. No one will ever be sure. B ut what is sure is that the day of excitement, the start of a new chapter, ended in bitter tears.

when they got Ann into the house they sat her in her chair and gave her "dolly". But it was no use. The screams wouldn't stop. They got louder and more intenst. At one point Ivy found herself in her new kitchen, her hands over her ears, trying to shut out those waves of sound. The boys, overawed for a start by their new surroundings, were tired and tearful. They had seen their sister like this before, but never so bad. They were affraid to be in the house with her as she made that dreadful sound over and over.

Jack, driven to the very depths of distraction, put up their little tent in the back garden and Leonard and Leslie HOdges spent the first night at their home...under canvas.

By now Ann appeared to have gone berserk. She was rocking in her chair, wailing and screaming. There were no tears, of course. There never were. Jack snatched her up and ifnoring the punching and kicking carried her upstairs, still screaming, and dumped her in the small, empty bedroom and locked the door.

For the next hour Ann threw herself about on the floor and screamed. It was as though a tortured soul was loose. Jack and Ivy shut themselves in the kitchen - the furthest point from that room - and tried to shut their ears and their minds to what was happeing above them.

Then silence. Sweet peache. Jack and Ivy went quietly upstairs and opened the bedroom door. Ann was unconscious on the floor. In the midst of her fit she had banged her head so hard against the wall she had kaid herself out.

Jack Hodges, a man of gentle disposition and a loving father, went down on his knees by her side...and wept.
Gently he picked the little limp bundle from the floor and carried her downstairs. Ivy, blinded by tears, gently caressed the child who would no let her touch her at any other time. Jack rushed from the house to a phone box and called the doctor, but by the time he arrived Ann had come round and a large bruise on her forehead was the only sign that anything had happened to her.

Strangly enough she didn't scream for two days. It was as though she had spent all her energy in one huge orgy of hysterics. But soon she was back to her usual routine of fighting them every time they tried to feed her or help her in any way.

Jack and Ivy were to wonder for a long time about the righs and wrongs of leaving th3e child on her own in that little room. They had been driven to it, and thwy would not willingly harm a hari on her head. In the weeks after that terrible night they were very care not to do anything that would send Ann into one of those rages. That was a lot easier said than done, of course, because they were never fully wure about what caused that dreadful screaming. It sometimes appeared to them that the smallest thing would bring it on. Sometimes nothing at all.

It was only their deep love for each other and their faith in their children that prevented them from losing their sanity. They knew that the specialists they had seen were interested in Ann, but they realized equally well that those same specialists were baffled. They were for the most part overworkded and dedicated men. But they had to give priority to the children who had symptoms they could recognise and perhaps cure. Jack and Ivy realsied this and they did not resent it. Whatever was wrong with taughter was very rare indeed. But they could not help themselves from thinking "someday, someday..."

However, there was one bright spot in the next weeks of misery as Ann's screaming bouts became more frequent and longer. Just when they had reached the point where they were sure they could not take any more they made a startling discovery.

It became obvious that Ann did not scream nearly so much when the curtains were drawn. Then she would sit contentendly in her chair, sucking "dolly." So one morning instead of opening the curtains, Iv y left them drawn and the light on. Ann was with her. But this time she did not start her screaming. In stead she went straight to her chair and sat down. suddenlly Ivy pulled the curtains back and the effect was startling and shattering. Ann put her hands over her eyes and screamed. Ivy immediately closed the curtains and the screaming stopped.

Outside the window was a tall privet bush which swayed in the wind. Ivy was now sure that it was the object of Ann's terror. She explained her theory to Jack when he returned from work and he immedciately went outside and chopped the bush down. They then tried the curtain experiemnt with Ann, and when they wetre opened this time there were no screams as she looked out of the window.

In fact, from that day she seemed more settled and appeared to at last have accepted her new home. Jack and Ivy were quietly excited. By careful observation they had discovered one of her fears and removed it. Now, they reasoned, if they watched her carefully perhaps they could remove other fears. It would be a mamoth task. But it would certainly be worth trying. Anything would be worth trying.

They were now convinced that somewhow, for some inexplicable reason, Ann did not see and hear the outside world the way they did. Things that other people accepted as normal appeared to hold great terrors for that pathetic little girl. If only...If. How many times they repeated that little word.

The house was now looking very much like home. Ivy made new curtains and Jack painted and papered the rooms, which brought the familair screaming attackts from Ann, but they did their best to ignore her and let her scream it out.

As the weeks grew into months they were regularly attending the hospital clinic with Ann for examinations, most of which proved impossible to carry out. The child appeared to register nothing. Then came that September day when they were told that she was a schizophrenic and psychopath. The doctor was extremely kind and sympathetic. He could help them get Ann into a home, if they wished. Jack and Ivy were having none of it.

After they made their pledge to dao all they could to find a way through to Ann a sort of determined peace came over them. Tiredness seemed to vanish and they found they wer3e not having neraly so many rows as before. They were completely united in their pact.

They also realised with a feeling of guilt that so much of their time was being devoted to Ann that in many ways their now growing sons were being left out of things. So Jack bought fishing tackle for Leonard, Leslie and himself and the spent many happy hours on the river bank. He took them for long walks through the woods and pointed out the beauty of nature. Of course, they couldn't go as a family. They had to take turns. Although Ann had overcome her fear of greenery, they realised she would not co-operate on these walks.

After her seventh birthday they decided to have another holiday. They chose Blackpool again - a holiday camp this time. There was no trolley to cope with, but the coach to the seaside producedc the same screaming attack, until she was put in a seat with "dolly".

On their first day at the beach the hardly dared breathe as Ann looked at the sand for a few minutes and then rushed onto it picking up handfuls and throwing them in the air with squeals of delight. It was though she was wecoming an old friend. Then she found a pool of sea water left behind by the tide. First she put her toe in, then walked into it and then, joy of joy, lay down in it - laughing.