is.’
‘LIAR!’ I screamed. I was so close I could see my crazed reflection in her eyes. ‘It’s all your fault! You’re a liar and I hate you! I hate you!’
I felt the slap before my brain registered what had happened.
Mum gasped, like she couldn’t believe what she’d done. ‘Bel, wait!’ she shouted.
But I turned away and walked out of the room with as much dignity as I could muster. As I was leaving, I heard the Christmas tree slump sideways with a sound like a sigh.
C HAPTER 13
Runaway
My bedroom door had an old-fashioned lock and key.
I took great satisfaction in hearing Mum wiggle the handle desperately. I didn’t go downstairs for the rest of the evening, just lay in bed snuffling until I could barely see through my puffy eyes.
I must have slept eventually because soon weak light was coming through my curtains and Mum was calling through my bedroom door.
‘Bel? Bel, are you awake?’ She rattled the handle. ‘Look, darling ... I’m so sorry I ... I slapped you. I will never, ever do it again, I promise. Bel?’
I ignored her and put my hands over my ears until I made out the muffled thump of the front door closing. I wasn’t prepared to hear any more of her poisonous lies.
Lying there in the unfriendly, empty house, I’d never felt so lonely. It was like there was nowhere I really belonged any more. I thought about going back to the fairground, which was about the only place I’d felt like me lately, despite all the strangeness. I wanted to see Luka, badly. But then I remembered the way we’d parted. Maybe he wouldn’t be pleased to see me and I didn’t think I could bear it if he told me to get lost. I was so sore inside already.
The only place I could imagine being was back in London, at Jasmine’s house. We’d always been able to make each other feel better about stuff. Within ten minutes I was stuffing clothes into my rucksack, trying to work out how long it would take to walk to the station and find a train back to London. I decided I’d ring Jasmine from the train. Or better still, surprise her.
I slowed down as I got to the end of the road and patted my pocket. There was forty pounds in there, saved from my birthday. I’d had an idea of saving up for an iPod, but that seemed stupid now. What use was an iPod when your family was in bits and your own mother hit you?
It was freezing today and my teeth were chattering a bit as I hurried along the road.
I walked for about fifteen minutes in the direction I thought I’d find the station. It was definitely around here somewhere ... maybe around the next corner. Or maybe just a bit further.
After a while I slowed down as the horrible realisation sunk in.
I’d somehow managed to get lost in this tiny, poxy town.
I stopped walking and let the rucksack fall to the ground, narrowly missing a clump of dog poo. I looked around at the quiet street and sighed heavily, leaning against a wall.
I put my head in my hands and tried to picture myself getting off the train at St Pancras station. I imagined all the busy, purposeful people stampeding past me. What did I really think would happen if I ran away? Jasmine’s mum would probably get straight on the phone to Mum the minute she saw me. I pushed myself away from the wall, heart like a brick. I decided I’d just go home and wrap myself in a duvet, eat biscuits and watch daytime TV. Maybe I could blank out the world for a while.
I didn’t have the energy to walk and dragged my weary bones to the nearest bus stop to check out where I was. Two women with buggies were waiting there and chatting. I must have looked a bit starey-eyed and mad because they shifted along slightly.
‘Can I get a bus back into town from here?’ I said, and one of them nodded.
‘Should be just a few minutes,’ she said.
‘Thanks,’ I mumbled and perched on the end of the bench.
The two women carried on their conversation, which cut into my numb thoughts.
‘I heard it wasn’t coming
‘LIAR!’ I screamed. I was so close I could see my crazed reflection in her eyes. ‘It’s all your fault! You’re a liar and I hate you! I hate you!’
I felt the slap before my brain registered what had happened.
Mum gasped, like she couldn’t believe what she’d done. ‘Bel, wait!’ she shouted.
But I turned away and walked out of the room with as much dignity as I could muster. As I was leaving, I heard the Christmas tree slump sideways with a sound like a sigh.
C HAPTER 13
Runaway
My bedroom door had an old-fashioned lock and key.
I took great satisfaction in hearing Mum wiggle the handle desperately. I didn’t go downstairs for the rest of the evening, just lay in bed snuffling until I could barely see through my puffy eyes.
I must have slept eventually because soon weak light was coming through my curtains and Mum was calling through my bedroom door.
‘Bel? Bel, are you awake?’ She rattled the handle. ‘Look, darling ... I’m so sorry I ... I slapped you. I will never, ever do it again, I promise. Bel?’
I ignored her and put my hands over my ears until I made out the muffled thump of the front door closing. I wasn’t prepared to hear any more of her poisonous lies.
Lying there in the unfriendly, empty house, I’d never felt so lonely. It was like there was nowhere I really belonged any more. I thought about going back to the fairground, which was about the only place I’d felt like me lately, despite all the strangeness. I wanted to see Luka, badly. But then I remembered the way we’d parted. Maybe he wouldn’t be pleased to see me and I didn’t think I could bear it if he told me to get lost. I was so sore inside already.
The only place I could imagine being was back in London, at Jasmine’s house. We’d always been able to make each other feel better about stuff. Within ten minutes I was stuffing clothes into my rucksack, trying to work out how long it would take to walk to the station and find a train back to London. I decided I’d ring Jasmine from the train. Or better still, surprise her.
I slowed down as I got to the end of the road and patted my pocket. There was forty pounds in there, saved from my birthday. I’d had an idea of saving up for an iPod, but that seemed stupid now. What use was an iPod when your family was in bits and your own mother hit you?
It was freezing today and my teeth were chattering a bit as I hurried along the road.
I walked for about fifteen minutes in the direction I thought I’d find the station. It was definitely around here somewhere ... maybe around the next corner. Or maybe just a bit further.
After a while I slowed down as the horrible realisation sunk in.
I’d somehow managed to get lost in this tiny, poxy town.
I stopped walking and let the rucksack fall to the ground, narrowly missing a clump of dog poo. I looked around at the quiet street and sighed heavily, leaning against a wall.
I put my head in my hands and tried to picture myself getting off the train at St Pancras station. I imagined all the busy, purposeful people stampeding past me. What did I really think would happen if I ran away? Jasmine’s mum would probably get straight on the phone to Mum the minute she saw me. I pushed myself away from the wall, heart like a brick. I decided I’d just go home and wrap myself in a duvet, eat biscuits and watch daytime TV. Maybe I could blank out the world for a while.
I didn’t have the energy to walk and dragged my weary bones to the nearest bus stop to check out where I was. Two women with buggies were waiting there and chatting. I must have looked a bit starey-eyed and mad because they shifted along slightly.
‘Can I get a bus back into town from here?’ I said, and one of them nodded.
‘Should be just a few minutes,’ she said.
‘Thanks,’ I mumbled and perched on the end of the bench.
The two women carried on their conversation, which cut into my numb thoughts.
‘I heard it wasn’t coming
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