knew.
Nina splashed water around the basin and opened the door. ‘Sorry,’ she said, and she was squeezed against the wall as Josie rushed in.
Mick suddenly came through the front door.
‘Oh God, I’m so glad you’re back,’ she said, delivering a long kiss on his lips.
‘Mmm, I should go out more often.’ Mick hugged her fondly with one arm, dangling a shopping bag with the other. ‘I’ve been hunting,’ he said, pausing, frowning at Nina’s worried expression. ‘Chicken OK?’ he asked. ‘Come and help me prepare it.’
Nina followed him, glad of the distraction.
‘Christ, has there been a volcanic eruption?’ Mick asked, wiping the worktop free of black crumbs. Then, ‘Nina?’ He paused, hands spread wide on the laminate – clever, capablehands that Nina just wanted to have encase her and keep her safe forever. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Sure. I’m fine.’ She snapped out of it and helped unpack the groceries.
Perfectly safe, she said over and over in her head as later, in bed, she tangled the sheet around her restless body. She was hot. She was sweating. She couldn’t sleep. Instead she listened to Mick’s gentle sleep-breaths as they bordered on a snore. She was, of course, perfectly safe.
CHAPTER 10
Still my dad didn’t come to visit. ‘Been forgotten?’ the horrid man asked, shoving me back on the cold window seat where he’d found me. I cowered as he raised a hand, but he thought better of it as one of the female carers walked past with a bunch of kids in tow.
I stared out of the window, willing my dad’s car to appear. My eyes were still smarting from the glare of the light in that horrid room, and my heart pumped a rich mix of cold blood and fear. I gripped the stone window sill and stared down the drive, pressing my nose to the glass. I focused hard on the trees, the tarmac, the dingy grey sky, and prayed that my father would come to save me.
As dusk fell, so did my eyelids. Once or twice I dropped off – sweet oblivion where me, my dad and my mum were all back together. Vague memories of a slim woman with a ponytail, the scent of her skin – face cream and lipstick – teased me into believing she was still alive for several blissful moments even after I woke.
It was a smell that brought me round the third time I nodded off. It made me feel ill. Disinfectant overlaying the stench of fear –
my
fear – and that’s when I realised I’d wetmyself. Too scared to tell anyone, I crept off the dirty cushion and sloped off to the dormitory. As I peeled off my knickers, I realised that the ugly man had been right. I’d been forgotten. My dad wasn’t coming today, and he probably wouldn’t come tomorrow either. Or even the day after that.
So far I’d spent my time at Roecliffe Children’s Home ducking and diving, smiling sweetly, innocently, getting by any way I could. I longed to be a shadow, a picture on one of the grimy walls, a rat scurrying about in the basement. The other kids were harsh, sometimes sad, sometimes bruised, and sometimes screaming with laughter. They were a rainbow of every emotion, from the tots gurgling in their prams to the teenagers who punched the walls as they idly walked past. Me, I was somewhere in the middle. Trying to hide, trying not to be noticed. If my father didn’t come to fetch me soon, I vowed I would fly away. Ava, his skinny little bird.
The carers trudged through their duties each day. I mistook one or two of them for kids from the home, they were so young. Others were older, weary, grey, and most of them filled with resentment. None of them seemed to like us.
I tried to find my mother inside everyone I met, just in case, but none of the carers resembled her. I wanted to make friends with the grown-ups, but they couldn’t be bought with a gum-lined grin or a cut knee – not like Dad – and it was impossible to play a sneaky prank to get more bread at tea. I soon learned that ferocious punishmentfollowed even tiny steps out of line.
Nina splashed water around the basin and opened the door. ‘Sorry,’ she said, and she was squeezed against the wall as Josie rushed in.
Mick suddenly came through the front door.
‘Oh God, I’m so glad you’re back,’ she said, delivering a long kiss on his lips.
‘Mmm, I should go out more often.’ Mick hugged her fondly with one arm, dangling a shopping bag with the other. ‘I’ve been hunting,’ he said, pausing, frowning at Nina’s worried expression. ‘Chicken OK?’ he asked. ‘Come and help me prepare it.’
Nina followed him, glad of the distraction.
‘Christ, has there been a volcanic eruption?’ Mick asked, wiping the worktop free of black crumbs. Then, ‘Nina?’ He paused, hands spread wide on the laminate – clever, capablehands that Nina just wanted to have encase her and keep her safe forever. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Sure. I’m fine.’ She snapped out of it and helped unpack the groceries.
Perfectly safe, she said over and over in her head as later, in bed, she tangled the sheet around her restless body. She was hot. She was sweating. She couldn’t sleep. Instead she listened to Mick’s gentle sleep-breaths as they bordered on a snore. She was, of course, perfectly safe.
CHAPTER 10
Still my dad didn’t come to visit. ‘Been forgotten?’ the horrid man asked, shoving me back on the cold window seat where he’d found me. I cowered as he raised a hand, but he thought better of it as one of the female carers walked past with a bunch of kids in tow.
I stared out of the window, willing my dad’s car to appear. My eyes were still smarting from the glare of the light in that horrid room, and my heart pumped a rich mix of cold blood and fear. I gripped the stone window sill and stared down the drive, pressing my nose to the glass. I focused hard on the trees, the tarmac, the dingy grey sky, and prayed that my father would come to save me.
As dusk fell, so did my eyelids. Once or twice I dropped off – sweet oblivion where me, my dad and my mum were all back together. Vague memories of a slim woman with a ponytail, the scent of her skin – face cream and lipstick – teased me into believing she was still alive for several blissful moments even after I woke.
It was a smell that brought me round the third time I nodded off. It made me feel ill. Disinfectant overlaying the stench of fear –
my
fear – and that’s when I realised I’d wetmyself. Too scared to tell anyone, I crept off the dirty cushion and sloped off to the dormitory. As I peeled off my knickers, I realised that the ugly man had been right. I’d been forgotten. My dad wasn’t coming today, and he probably wouldn’t come tomorrow either. Or even the day after that.
So far I’d spent my time at Roecliffe Children’s Home ducking and diving, smiling sweetly, innocently, getting by any way I could. I longed to be a shadow, a picture on one of the grimy walls, a rat scurrying about in the basement. The other kids were harsh, sometimes sad, sometimes bruised, and sometimes screaming with laughter. They were a rainbow of every emotion, from the tots gurgling in their prams to the teenagers who punched the walls as they idly walked past. Me, I was somewhere in the middle. Trying to hide, trying not to be noticed. If my father didn’t come to fetch me soon, I vowed I would fly away. Ava, his skinny little bird.
The carers trudged through their duties each day. I mistook one or two of them for kids from the home, they were so young. Others were older, weary, grey, and most of them filled with resentment. None of them seemed to like us.
I tried to find my mother inside everyone I met, just in case, but none of the carers resembled her. I wanted to make friends with the grown-ups, but they couldn’t be bought with a gum-lined grin or a cut knee – not like Dad – and it was impossible to play a sneaky prank to get more bread at tea. I soon learned that ferocious punishmentfollowed even tiny steps out of line.
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