Adventures of Ryan Tanner (part 4)

It was the spring of 1983 when Ryan was released from the detention centre to his mother’s home address in Holyhead. Any chances of returning to the care of the local authority had long gone. He hadn’t lived with his family for more than a few weeks since the age of 10. 

He now had a younger brother too.  Unbeknown to Ryan his mother Judy and her new man Norman had tied the knot at the beginning of the eighties. James was seven years old and cute enough as a little brother but he had his own room in a two bedroom council flat. Norman wasn’t about to allow Ryan to change that. In all honesty Norman had always resented Ryan’s presence in the family home. It was clear from very early on during some home visits that Norman and Ryan were never going to be singing from the same hymn sheet. 

Ryan slept on the newly purchased sofa bed in James’s room. It was never going to last Ryan thought as he walked along the quayside of the town’s fishing dock during the early hours of one morning. “I need to get my own place” he’d tell his friends as they watched the tonnes of mackerel being unloaded from fishing trawlers onto the quayside. His sixteenth birthday was fast approaching. Helping the fishermen unload their catch for a pittance wasn’t an option for Ryan, he wanted more.

A cold winter’s north easterly wind battered Ryan’s face as he hurried through town from the jobcentre to the local pub. It was a dead Tuesday afternoon and the litter strewn town centre was empty. Many of the shops had “closing down” notices in their windows and doors. The town that offered so much to Ryan as a child was dying a slow death.

The Queens public house was the only pub in town that Ryan managed to get served with alcohol Few sixteen year olds looked as mature as Ryan. He had a well-established moustache and sometimes darkened it with his older sister’s mascara. As long as he could avoid the side of the glass rubbing against his bum-fluff, thereby causing the mascara to run down his chin he could pass for an eighteen year old and manage to get served. His few pounds of benefit payments never lasted more than a day or two. His situation was dire. He needed to get out of this God forsaken town. Some of his former school friends were meddling with heroin. Ryan witnessed more than one suffering from the effects of withdrawal. “Time to get out of this shit hole” he said as he lined up his cue on the white pool ball. John Tuck coughed aloud in an attempt to put Ryan off his shot. “Yeah, yeah Tanner everyone says it but no-one ever does it” said Tuck. Ryan missed his shot, “yeah, well I’m not fucking everyone am I mate?” he replied. Sipping on the final drops of his pint of cider and black currant Ryan looked at Tuck, “I’ll be gone this time next week John, you watch”. Tuck laughed, “Yeah, yeah we’ll see”. 

The following weekend Ryan stood on the outskirts of Holyhead town at the side of the A5 with his thumb out. The A5 was a road he’d travelled many times previously. Whether he was being conveyed in his social workers car or, as was more often the case in some kind stranger’s car. Ryan knew the A5 like the back of his hand. He’d always hitch-hiked his way across the Isle of Anglesey; it was only twenty four miles as the crow flies from east to west. Anglesey was a beautiful place to live if you had the means to do so but Ryan never had those means. A car pulled up, “where are you off to mate?” shouted the driver “anywhere mate, anywhere but this shit hole” Ryan replied. “Jump in,” the driver said. That was the final day of Ryan Tanner as a resident of the town of Holyhead, the gateway to Ireland.

Ryan’s biological father was of Irish descent. He had a strong Irish accent. Ryan still clings onto this part of his DNA. Is there anyone who dislikes an Irish accent? Ryan used to put on a fake Irish accent when trying to court the female holiday makers that visited Anglesey with their families. There was never a shortage of tourists during the summer months. If every day on Anglesey was a sunny and warm day Ryan doubts he would ever have left. There are many magical memories of the summer holidays that have remained with Ryan throughout his life. There are also some not so pleasant memories he’s carried with him too. He doesn’t dwell on the negative thoughts that pop up in his mind every now and then, he deals with them in his own way. Usually this process involves alcohol or some kind of other mind altering drug. 

Adventures of Ryan Tanner (Part 3)

Ryan Tanner walked through the main doors of Byrne House on a brisk but sunny morning in September 1981. He was 13 years old. His well-groomed black hair shone in the sunlight of the summer’s morning. He had a cocky smile. He looked like trouble and a decade or so later he was as troublesome as they come for anyone who mistreated him as a young boy. Byrne House was the place to house the Ryan Tanners of this world. He was there because no other children’s home would take him. “The last thing that Ryan Tanner needed was a family environment. He needs to be placed in an all-male environment” was the recommendation contained in the latest social workers report. Ryan knew nothing of the reports compiled by his former “carers”. He always thought that he was sent to Byrne House as punishment because of his behaviour whilst resident in other family orientated children’s homes. 

Ryan’s first placement in the care of the local authority was in a newly built modern looking assessment centre designed as a collective row of three to four houses. It was a new project for the local politicians to spend tax payers’ money on to try and gain some kudos in the forthcoming general elections.  It was a new and worthy cause that would bring kids and their broken families back together again. Ryan’s upbringing was alien to the concept offered by this placement. Any assessment of Ryan would evidence as much. Ryan Tanner was a hardened. He was child hardened by his first ten years of life. His behaviour was such that he attracted the attention of the officer-in-charge at the Yellow Project House, Neville Snot. In the time to come Neville Snot would regret the day he ever set eyes on that ten year old, who was just four feet and nine inches tall.

Early Tanner

Ryan Tanner was born in the summer of 1967. He was the youngest of three children. Soon after his first birthday Ryan’s father was posted to Singapore. Richard Tanner had joined the Royal Air Force a few years earlier. Ryan’s mother had initially refused to make the move with Richard because of her fear of flying. The thought of flying in a plane sent shivers down the spine of Judy Tanner. Eventually, she agreed to up sticks and make the move. Judy found it almost impossible to imagine bringing up the three kids without the support of Richard, emotionally and financially. 

Although Judy’s immediate family had offered to support her for the two years that Richard was due to stay in Singapore she knew it was the right decision to go with him. Ryan had vague and patchy memories of his mother singing a song which included the lyrics “Stand by your man”; he discovered later on in life that it was a big hit for Tammy Wynette. Music has always played a role in Ryan’s life; many of his memories centred on the music of a certain period. 

Whilst in Singapore Judy and Richard started to drift apart, Richard was constantly drinking more than he should for a father of three young children. Ryan’s two older sisters remembered their mother screaming and shouting about Richard’s constant nights out with his fellow air force comrades. Richard’s violent outbursts often resulted with Judy sporting a blackened eye or a thick lip, Judy couldn’t wait to get back home to the UK and to her family and friends.

In 1970 they all returned to the UK when Ryan was aged just three years old. The violence continued and it was inevitable given the size of Judy’s family that Richard was ostracised and eventually he left the family home. According to Richard, as he later explained to Ryan, he had no choice in the matter. Ryan never saw his father again until he was ten years old. Richard had a new family but he was still drinking heavily. This was a feature that was never to change throughout Richard’s life.  

Whilst growing up Ryan frequently asked himself the same questions; What if his father hadn’t left? What would life have been like if his parents had stayed together? Would his life have been different? He’d often fabricate a happy family life when meeting new people. Ryan would often brag about his dad being an RAF officer, he’d pretend to have memories of living Singapore and brag about the house-maids that used to look after him. Always trying to fit in with his peers Ryan never allowed his families breakdown to become a negative factor. 

Ryan’s short visit to see his father at the age ten was explained to his peers in terms of joy and happiness. In reality it was anything but. The truth was that Judy had a new man in her life. She could see Ryan’s behaviour was changing for the worse so sending Ryan to visit his father was an attempt to pacify him. But Judy knew deep down that she was never going to allow Ryan to actually live with Richard. Ryan had barely taken his shoes off in his father’s new family home when his mother Judy was on the phone. “He’s only there because I want a break” she used to insist. “Make sure he knows he’ll be back next week”. Richard’s new family home was never going to be Ryan’s new family home. Ryan knew he was going home to his mother sooner or later. 

Social workers assigned to Ryan in the early days often tried to persuade him that if he moved to live with his father things would be better for him. “Think of the new school, the new friends and new adventures you’d have Ryan”. What they actually meant was; as soon as we can get rid of this one to another patch then all the boxes that were required to be ticked would be ticked, job done, next!

Early school days for Ryan Tanner were much the same as his classmates. That said, his teachers always seemed to single him out. His hand would be the first raised to answer any questions put to the class. If he was chosen to answer by the teacher he answered with the confidence of an adult. So much so that he usually ended up questioning the original question. Teachers often grew annoyed at Ryan’s cocky answers. “But that isn’t what I was asking Ryan” they’d say. “Well that’s what it sounded like to me miss” was his usual reply. Ryan was never without friends in school. Other children would want to sit on the same table as him at lunch time. His female friends often flirted and made it known to him that they wanted his attention.

Despite his forty years of smoking and drinking Ryan Tanner carried a look of a man that’d walked into the wind and the sun for most of his life. If he was ever asked about his age few people would guess it and most always end up guessing it as many years younger. As a wry smile appeared from Ryan’s mouth Ryan’s dream came to an abrupt end. He heard his name being shouted. “TANNER, HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY IT, get your fucking arse out of that pit NOW”! Ryan realised he’d been dreaming the dream again. The same dream he’d had for years-the dream of being a writer and writing books

Detention Centre 

The burly prison officer grabbed the base of Ryan’s bed and lifted it with Ryan still in it. Ryan stared at his ripping large muscles that were nearly bursting through his brilliant, starched white short- sleeved shirt; Ryan could see a web like pattern of deep purple veins bursting to break out of the screws biceps. “Where the fuck do you think you are”? Tanner’s bed was then dropped onto the polished wooden dormitory floor boards. “It’s not a fucking holiday camp you know”, the screw shouted across the dorm as he marched further on down the line of beds.

Ryan was serving four months in a youth detention centre (DC). He was now fifteen years old. He climbed out of bed and stretched his developing arms up toward the hundred year old ceiling of the dormitory. Cob webs filled the gaps in between the wooden beams and the lime coating under the roof tiles. “I hate this shit hole” Ryan murmured to himself. The usual routine followed-into the wash room with its freezing cold terracotta floor tiles and cold white ceramic tiled walls. Pick one of the forty or so deep Belfast sinks, strip wash, clean teeth, shave, rinse and dry. This was always followed by-back to the dorm, get dressed into the uniform of checked shirt and denim dungarees, build a square bed pack from your sheets and pillow, place it at the head of the bed on top of the mattress and then stand at the base of your bed until the screw had inspected the bed pack and permitted you to go down to the dining room to wait at your table for breakfast. It was the same routine every morning for nearly four months. The only respite was for the last few weeks when Ryan managed to get a job on the detention centres farm. 

Although extremely hard work and a 5am start Ryan enjoyed the change of scenery and the farm banter that came with the job. Additionally the “farm lads” food was also considerably better in quality and quantity. Ryan applied on numerous occasions for work on the farm but his general behaviour wasn’t good enough. He was informed that he needed to improve his over-all general behaviour before being allowed out unsupervised on the farm. With only three weeks left of his four month sentence he was deemed a suitable choice. Ryan hated the governor of Worthington House detention centre as he hated all the other people who’d claimed an authority over him as a child, a teenager and a young man. ‘Bastards, all of them’ he often thought, utter bastards. cont.......