Eileen Cutter

EILEEN CUTTER
QUEEN OF MY HEART


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THIS SITE IS A TRIBUTE TO MY MOTHER EILEEN CUTTER

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Losing our mother devastated and scarred our lives, even the mention of her name caused tension, we
never forgot her though and because her death was never explained we always had a secret belief that
maybe she was alive and we would be reunited one day. I knew that my brother and I would never find
peace until we found out the events surrounding her death. What did come to light was tragic and
because we had little memory of her the name mother is strange to us. We always refer to her as
Eileen as on the rare occassions she was spoken of thats the name by which she was addressed, mother
is not a name we ever used. What I do know is that her death changed our lives and we have done the
best we can with what we have. My brother was almost 4 and I was 3 when our mother died. So this is
Eileens our Mothers story our family history.

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I knew very little about my mother, her name, the colour of her hair, where she was buried, I was
told the cause of her death was suicide that she was expecting a baby by another man, that my father
had given her two options. To leave, or they move to another area and bring the baby up as their
own. Now that Im older and know my father well, I doubt very much that this was the case, he should
never have had children.


My mother Eileen, was born to Maurice and Hannah Scott in Bradford in 1929, Maurice died in 1943
during the war. She had an older brother Derek. Eileen met and married my father Frank Cutter in
December 1949. They moved to Ravenscliffe Estate, Bradford and began married life there. Iain my
brother was born in 1955 and I was born in 1956.

In March 1959 my mother died aged 29, the cause of death was phenol barbitone poisoning. She passed
away before lunch time, I was there, I remember her being put in the ambulance and running after it
somebody scooped me up, Eileen died in the ambulance. We then left the home we knew and moved in
with Grandma Cutter (Franks mother) and Rose (Franks sister). Rose was widowed with two children
who were in their early teens. Rose took us under her wing, I was almost 3 when Eileen died, Iain
was 4. My father also took care of us, he was a good father, and I have many happy memories of that
time, we felt safe and happy and loved, Rose gave us the security of a mother and treated us well.
Although my father and Nana Scott (Eileen’s mother) had not spoken since the day mum died, dad
used to take us to Leeds regularly to see her. So we had the love of significant people in our
lives, a constant stable environment.

Then five years later Rose moved into a house just up the road, I saw her everyday and spent a lot
of time with her. Grandma Cutter died when I was 8. This left my father as the sole carer, we had
extended family living nearby who also helped so he managed to work and still play a big role in our
lives.
Shortly after grandmas death dad took us to Otley Park he introduced us to a woman called Dorothy, I
had such a bad feeling about her. Dorothy had been widowed the six months previously, she had two
small children, her husband Trevor had died aged 26 from suicide. Three weeks later dad married her.
The day they were married we returned to the house they must have made a pact between themselves
for dad disappeared upstairs returning with four biscuit tins full of family photographs many were
of Eileen. My father knelt down and burnt them in the fireplace, he also gave Dorothy my mother’s
jewellery. They were photographs Iain and I had never seen. Photographs that my father was too weak
to hold onto for the sake of his children in later years.

Within a few days of the wedding I had my first beating from Dorothy, Frank had never smacked us,
raising his voice was enough. We were also ordered to address her us mother, a name that felt
strange to our lips and a title that she did not deserve. Four weeks after the wedding my father
was waiting for us when we were going to school, he jumped out of the car and held us tightly saying
he was sorry for marrying Dorothy, it was to be the only time he gave any indication that he had
made a mistake.
Dorothy banned any contact with our beloved Rose, she told us we would never see Nana Scott again,
we moved away from that area of Bradford to Thorpe Edge where Dorothy had lived with her first
husband. Life changed for Iain and I it felt like a black cloud was covering the sun. For the next
11 years my brother and I suffered physical and mental abuse from Dorothy, she was a shallow, bitter
self centred vain, greedy, cruel woman.
Looking back at that time I cannot find one thing that made us happy. We were physically abused
many times she resented our being there. I never heard her say a kind word about anyone. Sometimes
in temper she would tell me awful things about my mother screaming how terrible she was. I remember
when I was 12 she told me in that my mother had topped herself, stuck her head in a gas oven
because she couldnt stand me. Her abuse was relentless, she never knew when to stop. It was a bleak
time. Iain escaped the awfulness of our life at 17 when he went in the army I was heart broken. We
never told dad about the abuse to protect him. We had no one, Dorothy had ensured that all the
people who loved and cared for us were prevented from seeing us, Nana Scott used to come to the
school and we held hands through the fence. When I was 11 I went to a school in the city centre,
for two years I secretly met Rose in the subway at Forster Square, so there was a break in the
clouds now and again. Any cards and postal orders for Christmas and birthdays sent over the years
from my Nana were never received by Iain or I, we know that Dorothy must have pocketed the money,
binned the cards.

When I was 19 Dorothy left my father for another man and the sun came out. I asked Dad about my
mother I wanted to know what had happened to her, anything, where she was buried. He became
defensive, said he could not remember, what little information he gave wasn’t very positive or
truthful and he told me not to approach him again about her.

I contacted Nana Scott and we had 6 wonderful years together, she became distraught when I broached
the subject of my mother, she blamed my father for her death. Nana died in 1982. I was also in
touch with my beloved Rose and she is still with us aged 85.

Ten years ago I was sat in my father’s kitchen, he had married again in 1982, a chance comment
made that afternoon shattered my opinion of my father and a few months later I made a decision to
bow gracefully out of his life.

I began my search for my mother, it took until June 2004 to find her, there were times I had to
leave things be for a while as it was painful, I wrote to the coroner for a copy of the inquest
report, they had destroyed it, there were archives to visit, the central library in Bradford looking
through micro film files I wrote to the hospital where my mother died, her GP, maternity hospital,
the local paper. The registry office was not computerised and the man I spoke to there gave every
spare moment trawling through records. I visited Ravenscliffe Estate and sat outside the house we
had lived in. Finally I got a phone call in June 04 saying that her birth certificate had been
found. I was given information on where she was buried. I will always be grateful to the man at the
registry office for having the compassion to help in the search for Eileen. The next stop was
Scholemoor Cemetery in Bradford, the staff in the office were so kind, Frank had told me that Eileen
was buried in unconsecrated ground, I asked him what that meant and he said it means the ground is
not blessed because its where criminals were buried. I was shown a very large old book with my
mother’s burial details in, the staff explained that I would be visiting an unmarked grave, they
wrote instructions on the map they even wrote consecrated ground it. Nothing prepared me for the
shock, I was looking at my mothers final resting place, unmarked, neglected and the knowledge that
my father had never returned since the day he buried her.

I believe that my mother was a good person, a beautiful soul and that the one person who could tell
us the truth is my father and that is something hes not ever telling. Eileens death was accidental
and I know from people who have contacted me through gts who knew her that she loved her children,
she was kind,gentle and lived for her family. Somebody provided her with the tablets she took and
they have had to live with the knowledge that Eileen died from taking them, a burden that must have
haunted them through life. I had no problems with my father marrying again, but his choice of
partner meant that my brother and I suffered,their relationship was toxic and as far as Im concerned
they deserved each other. The comment made that caused me to walk out of my fathers life was 'your
father always regrets that he did nothing to stop the abuse when you were little.'

I am sorry that my mother died, the culture of the late fifties is so far removed from how we live
now. Back then a womans place was in the home, there was no support for women who left their
husbands you married for life. Up until the mid sixties most suicides who survived were sent to
prison,my mother did not leave a suicide note,I believe she felt it was best to terminate her
pregnancy and that is why she took the tablets oblivious to the fact that they would end her life.
Why my father after 50 years can still hold bitterness tells me he knows a lot more about my mothers
death than he is telling, what I do know is she did not deserve to die.

His choice of partner meant his children suffered greatly at the hands of a monster. Had he just
done a little homework into Dorothys background he would have found out that her first husband
Trevor had been widowed at 21 leaving him with a baby son. When he married Dorothy he found out she
was shutting the baby in a cupboard all day while he was at work. Trevor removed his son from his
marital home and took him to live with his grandparents. He did the right thing he protected his
son. Amazing the things that come to light when you are trying to make sense of your past.

For Iain and myself there will always be a huge hole in our lives and hearts where our mother
belongs. there are missing pieces that I will never find the truth about. So there we are , we
lived in a dysfunctional family, we were victims of abuse, and survived and that makes us heroes.
The other victims were my Nana Scott and Rose, to have us taken out of their lives caused them so
much pain years of our growing up that were lost. It has taken years to untangle the after effect of
our life in that household. For you never emerge unscathed from such a brutal childhood. It has been
like a backward shadow following us until we could face the pain of it all. It was bleak and
terrible and we did not deserve it. Fragments of it will always remain with us. I know that any
adult who is aware of abuse and does nothing is as guilty as the perpetrator of it. I did for a long
time wish to prosecute the people who made our lives hell, to see justice being done. Although not a
practicing believer of any religion I do know that 'What Goes Round Comes Round', for my brother and
I it seems a long time in coming. I do not hate Frank or Dorothy for that would destroy me, the
awfulness of all they created. It meant there were no photographs of my mother or Iain and I as
babies, so I went on a mission and visited relatives and stole the few photographs they had of
eileen or us. I have put pictures in my garden of the newspaper cuttings and pictures of my mothers
final resting place. The one good thing that came out of all this is that I never wanted to be the
type of parents they were. Raising children is the most precious gift we could ever have. We all
have a choice in how we are in life towards our family and others. I never blame my past or use it
as an excuse to opt out of taking responsibility for my actions.

Thankyou for reading Eileens story, Im glad I shared it with you. For all the candles and tributes
and comfort all of you have given. The beauty of having found this site is that we can be the
children who lost their mother, or the grieving adults and which ever we choose to be its accepted
on here. Bless you all.

Alyson
Iain

♥ღ♥ Gone Only To Others by Ann Holloway ♥ღ♥

Others, who do not know,
Tiptoe around your name
Unaware that your name is silently
Written on my heart, my soul, my life
And inwardly I cry out to hear it spoken.

Others who do not know
Think of you as only in the past
And believe
That you only exist in my past too
Not understanding that you are
Past, Present, Future.

Others, who do not know,
Feel you as gone,
And fail to see the reality of you
Never being ‘truly’ gone from me.
The empty void of your absence
Is filled with your presence,
Your life will forever weave through mine
The divine bond cannot be severed.

Others who do not know,
Mistakenly may think that my love has been
Weakened by separation,
Feelings ceased,
Not so.
Entwined and strengthened
My love for you lives on
And has not died with death.
But you know all this,
If only others knew.