Linda’s Dad was one Henry Robertson. He divorced Mary Richardson, Linda’s Mum when Linda was two years old.
Strange to relate, the court gave custody of Linda’s two older brothers, Robert and Norman, to her Dad. Bear in mind, this was over 50 years ago. When This Did Not Happen. Especially when said Dad was back living with this parents and his adult brother in a one bedroom flat in Seafield Road (see vintage pic above).
I’m assuming they must have thought that with Linda being a girl she should be with her mother, no matter what her mother had got up to. Of course Mary just dumped her in her granny’s hoose for seven years, barring the time she put her daughter in the Barnardos children’s home. Without telling anyone.
Linda never saw her Dad or her two brothers ever again. She said she had a vague recollection of them coming to see her once but she was too young to remember. Ten years after the divorce her Dad emigrated to Australia and that was that.
Naturally, with her mother being an evil bitch, she used to tell the 10 year old Linda how she was raped and beaten by Lindas biological father. To a 10 year old girl, mind. Of course, at that age, you don’t think to ask how he got custody of the two boys. Even when one of her brothers (Robert) moved back to Scotland as an adult he never tired to make contact. Linda never even knew whether her father was dead or alive. She did know that Robert died the year before she did. From cancer. Norman, apparently, ended up in Denmark but who knows.
What with being abandoned by her father and brothers, being abused by her mother , living with a violent, alcoholic stepfather and a teenage marriage to a drunk deadbeat, it’s really no wonder that she was broken when I met her. She never healed but I love her. The wee scone.