Free From the Tracks

by K T Bowes

Chapter Four

  Dane walked Sophia to her history lesson, deviating his route before the classroom door to get to his physics class. “See ya, Soph,” he said, smiling with such kindness it took all her courage to keep it together and enter the class last. Sandra and Louise stared at her as she walked towards the back of the room. “You are so dead,” Sandra muttered under her breath as Sophia passed, chilling her blood and making her gulp in fear.

  With more available spaces in this class, Sophia grasped the opportunity to sit behind them and rob them of the chance to bore holes in the back of her head. She usually sat by Maddie but when she looked across, her friend huddled close to someone else. Sophia begged herself not to read into it and blamed her lateness. She smiled at Maddie across the sea of bent heads and caught her eye, but when no comforting acknowledgement came she understood the overture. She’d been cast out from her friendship group like the odd sock she believed herself to be. Her emotions pitched and rolled inside her, a washing machine of turmoil. Hunted and friendless, she waited for the end of the lesson, reasoning that at least this time a friend wouldn’t watch her humiliation.

  For an hour, she struggled to absorb the information the teacher spewed onto the blackboard. The exploits of Henry Tudor usually interested her but this time the words sounded hollow in Sophia’s head. Who cared anymore? Henry VII died, just like Henry VIII and possibly her mum. Still the teacher droned on. “Archaeologists dug up Richard III’s body in England last year. It was discovered underneath a car park in Leicester which is thought to have previously been a burial ground. His twisted spine exonerated William Shakespeare’s tale, but a man who had such an impact in his time has spent the last hundred years at least, being parked over by vehicles.”

  Sophia thought about the teacher’s words and felt the first stabbing pains of panic in her chest. Her mum disappeared, her brother left and her father had mentally opted out. Maddie and Heather pushed her away and if Dane left too, right as she was beginning to get to know him and like him...no, just get to know him, what would be left? Who would care in twenty or a hundred years about a miserable sixteen-year-old mashed up by some mean girls in a smoky toilet?

  “Sophia Armitage!” The teacher’s shout snapped her out of herself, making her heart pound in fear. In her entire school life, nobody ever shouted at her like that. The class of teenagers turned to look and even though she tried to control it; Sophia sensed the beetroot coloured blush creep up her neck and into her face.

  “She’s gone all red!” The inevitable comment followed by the expected laugh and the colour completed itself at the roots of her hair.

  The teacher looked a little guilty as she got eye contact with him, realising there was perhaps a good reason for her unusual distraction. But once he called her and got no reply, he needed to follow through. “See me after class,” he said with more kindness and she nodded, her face still inflamed. Inwardly she cursed, unable to get to the toilet until she arrived home in three hours’ time. She tried harder to concentrate and went through the motions of doing everything required of her. A loud discussion amongst the spiteful girls caught her attention a few minutes before the bell rang.

  “Oh yeah, he’s a really good kisser!”

  “Not better than Dane McArdle!” Sandra’s voice said, booming into the silence. Sophia worked hard to ignore her, sensing it was all for her benefit.

  “He’s really hot!” someone else contributed. “I heard he snogged Chelsea in Year 13 for ten minutes straight.”

  “How do they know it was ten minutes?” one of the boys unwisely interjected. Sophia saw the back of Sandra’s ponytail jiggle as she turned her head to stare at the unfortunate boy.

  “Because they timed it, stupid!”

  Sophia felt sick. The last thing she wanted to hear about was how long Dane managed to kiss a very spotty girl in her last year of school, or any of his other sexual exploits for that matter. Sandra’s inference that he’d kissed her made it doubly vomit-worthy and suggested Dane liked to snog girls with faces like charred dustbin lids. She knew it shouldn’t affect her but it did. The realisation that she’d invested in a friendship with him morphed into the acknowledgement she liked him. Worse than liked. The growing crush burned in her chest as though visible to the world. Even Sandra recognised it. “I’m so dead,” Sophia murmured to herself and her desk companion leaned across, smelling of cheese and onion chips.

  “What?” he said, staring at her breasts instead of her face.

  “Nothing!” Sophia glared at him and he backed away and continued scrawling in his exercise book. She breathed through pursed lips behind her hand and tried to reign in the awful mix of confusing emotions, acknowledging the disaster-status of her life as it collapsed before her eyes and made her want to run away. Was that how Mum felt, she wondered, wanting to get away from everything? Was that what she did? Go outside, lock up the house and start walking, leaving her clothes, her car...her daughter. Sophia writhed in her seat with the agony of her thoughts, Richard III’s fate paling in insignificance against hers.

  Next came the mental torture, wondering if Sally Armitage could have fallen in the river, down a ditch or into a landslide. Did she fall in love with another man, become a lesbian or commit suicide so they’d never find the body? Sophia squeezed the bridge of her nose in her thumb and forefinger, challenging her ability to cling onto what little bit of sanity she possessed and dismiss the unproductive wrangling. She knew her father did the same thing night after night, wondering and playing through endless scenarios and mental film reels which didn’t help, but always ended with his wife missing.

  The bell rang and Sophia bolted, forgetting the teacher wanted her to stay. She almost made it to the door before Louise stuck out her foot and caused Sophia to trip. “Got you, bitch,” she whispered. “That’s just for starters. Wait and see.”

  Sophia’s leg caught on something sharp and she gasped and looked down, just in time to see Sandra lean back into her seat and retract the flick knife up into her pullover sleeve. She staggered from the building and down the steps, her nerves ragged and frayed. A cut on her calf smarted like a bee sting in the open air, painful but not life threatening. A reasonable amount of blood trickled down her leg into her shoe, but nothing to raise alarm. Sophia found herself wishing for a decent stab wound. At least then she could go home and Louise might be expelled. It still left the problem of Sandra though and without her sidekick she’d be venomous.

  “Why don’t I just go home anyway?” she murmured to herself, even though the concept seemed alien to a girl who didn’t even take sick days. Two more stress filled afternoon lessons stretched before her and she wouldn’t be able to pee for another three hours. The toilets were long past being safe and she’d become high priority on The Plastics’ list of targets.

  Sophia stumbled over to the place she’d discovered earlier, debating hiding there or in the library. The thought of sitting in whispered silence, being shushed by the librarians didn’t appeal to her, but she convinced herself she’d test it out another day. She clambered over the wall and squatted down, making sure the top of her head couldn’t be seen from the courtyard. Closing her eyes, she prayed for peace, wondering if God even listened to her anymore. She figured he got sick of her whining about her mother weeks ago. If he knew where Sally Armitage disappeared to he wasn’t telling and if he didn’t know, nobody did.

  A heavy step, a grunt and the sound of a zip dragging down the wall next to her, put Sophia on red alert. “You like my hiding place then?” Dane grinned as he slid onto the dusty floor, his body close to hers. He pulled out the cigarettes and then put them away again. Sophia looked grateful; she already felt sick. “You ok?” he asked concerned, spotting the cut on her leg adjacent to a new ladder in her tights.

  She nodded and scrubbed at the blood with her hand, staining her palm and fingers an orangey red. “Just your girlfriends again.”

  Dane’s brow knitted and he reached out and pulled the material awa
y from the cut, unleashing another oozing trail of red. Sophia pushed his hand away. “They’ve got worse,” he said, leaning his head back against the wall. “Out of control.”

  “Yep, and apparently you’re the hottest kisser in Year 12,” Sophia said, letting out the first thing that came into her head. She regretted the reminder, the familiar red flame making its way up her neck and into her cheeks.

  “I’m flattered,” Dane replied, his casual tone annoying her. It made the anger in her chest burn brighter and a desire to hurt him rose to the fore.

  “Well, there’s not many people able to kiss spotty Chelsea in Year 13 for ten minutes straight without stopping.”

  “I think not,” he said, his smile wicked. The lack of confirmation or denial drove Sophia to the edge of frustration.

  “So arrogant!” Sophia muttered under her breath. Dane ignored her but she saw the corner of his lips raise in a lopsided smile. Desperate for him to deny it, the idea ached inside her like indigestion but she refused to give him the satisfaction of having to ask. She knew why it bothered her so much and the thought of him kissing Chelsea made her want to retch. Ten minutes of his lovely lips writhing around amongst all those blackheads and pimples. Ten minutes of him kissing anyone at all.

  Dane exhaled and Sophia jumped and looked at him, despite herself. He smirked at her, his blue eyes narrowed in speculation and the chip in his tooth showing. “I’m kinda glad it bothers you,” he said, sliding his fingers over hers.

  Sophia bit her bottom lip and moved her hand, trying not to look obvious about the action. “Happy to help,” she gulped, the words shaking and the sarcasm forced.

  Dane watched her wipe a sweaty palm on her tartan skirt and his eyes studied her face with perception, seeing stress and not rejection. He reached out and claimed a stray curl which had escaped from Sophia’s hair clip, twirling it in his fingers and peering at the change in colour as sunshine touched the brunette strands. “Got any food?” he asked and she nodded. Reaching into her rucksack, Sophia retrieved her lunch box; the one routine her father managed to maintain. Edgar packed his children’s lunches from their first day of school and he clung to the repetitive action like a life raft. Once, he lined up the components for four lunches and still followed the same actions even with only one. He gave up making himself lunch weeks ago; tipping it into the trash at work day after day as his stomach constricted. Sophia’s heart clenched at the memory of how thin Edgar was becoming. His work pants hung off him like sagging curtains.

  Dane eyed the cheese and salad sandwich with obvious hunger, poking at the bag of chips with a speculative finger. “You sure?” Guilt made him swallow and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

  “I’m not hungry. Take it all.” Sophia looked away, frightened by the vulnerability in his eyes which left him raw and open just long enough for her to read.

  He scoffed the sandwiches, chocolate bar, chips and yoghurt like a man who hadn’t eaten for days. When he squirted himself in the eye peeling the Satsuma, Sophia allowed herself to laugh. “You need to eat something,” he said, turning towards her. “Here, I’ll feed you.” He pushed segments of the fruit between her lips and Sophia ate the first few, her heart pounding at Dane’s proximity and embarrassment flaring at her lack of control. The electricity between them arced and made her breathless and the orange roiled in her empty stomach.

  “No more!” she pleaded. “I don’t want it.”

  Dane’s eyes lit with challenge and he knelt up in front of her, cupping her cheek in his left hand as he aimed for her lips with another segment. Sophia giggled and dragged her chin away, seeing Dane’s eyes widen in surprise as he dropped it and the orange triangle plunged down the front of her school blouse. “Shot,” he laughed. “Sorry.” His thumb caressed the curve of her lips and his pupils dilated despite the lunchtime sun. “Want me to fetch it out?”

  “No!” Sophia flushed with embarrassment and fished in the front of her bra, feeling his eyes watching her every movement. As she wiped the orange mash from her cleavage and Dane made witty, unhelpful suggestions, his usual crowd of boys appeared over the wall and threw themselves down without invitation. They greeted Dane with the upward tilt of the head Kiwi boys used to signify, ‘hello’ and he nodded back.

  Sophia felt the testosterone descend around her like a haze, leaving her nervous and self-conscious. The gang of four males stared at her with open curiosity; glancing from Dane to her and back again. Seeking shelter, she shuffled nearer to Dane and the boys as one eyed her with surprise and then looked away, her presence near their alpha rendering her off limits and invisible.

  “Got any ciggies?” Paul asked Dane and he reached into his pocket and retrieved the crumpled packet. He threw it in the general direction of Paul, but another boy picked it up off the ground and peered in it.

  “Sweet!” he said, “five left. One each.”

  “Don’t smoke them here,” Dane said with aggression and the boys looked unsure. Paul snatched the packet, stuffing it into his trouser pocket before lying down on his back in the grass and folding his arms behind his head. He closed his eyes and heaved out a breath.

  “Sandra’s lost the plot,” Darren commented, his tone lazy as he leaned back on his hands. His blonde hair looked long and unkempt, falling over his face like a surfer. “She’s carrying a blade; you need to talk to her. Lou’s got one too. It’s like they’ve gone loco now you’ve left.”

  Dane made no comment and the other boys joined in, Oliver, Paul and Nigel. “You need to talk to her bro; you know they don’t listen to us.”

  Still Dane said nothing and they persisted. “Talk to her bro, go on talk to her.”

  “No!” Dane’s answer came out harsh and firm. “No,” he repeated, his voice sounding like a snarl.

  “She’s your cuzzie!” Oliver remarked and Sophia looked at Dane in surprise. Cousins!

  “She’s just my stepdad’s niece,” Dane replied through gritted teeth. “That means her blood’s nothing to do with mine!”

  “Is that why you dropped us?” Paul asked. “It’s not the same without you, bro. We can’t control those girls. They’re screwed up, man.”

  “I haven’t dropped you.” Dane winced. “I never wanted the girls in the group.”

  “All they wanted was to impress you, bro. It’s always about you. Now they’re just on a mission to cause crap everywhere. I heard one of them cut a girl in class today,” Nigel added. “Sandra’s real mad at you.”

  Dane looked down at Sophia’s leg and then off into the distance, shielding his eyes against the sun. Sophia’s heart filled with gratitude for his tact, lessening the impact of her victim status. She avoiding looking at the oozing gash on her leg, shooting Dane a look of thanks as he glanced in her direction.

  The boys sighed as one unit, frustration at not getting their leader to do what they wanted. “Sucky!” Nigel complained, but a peek at Dane’s face ended the argument.

  Paul drew the cigarette packet from his pants pocket and threw it up in the air, missing it on the way back down and getting hit in the face. To cover his embarrassment, he asked Dane, “You still driving around in your pa’s car?”

  Dane nodded.

  “You gonna wreck it for him before he gets out?” Oliver asked and the others jeered.

  “He’s not my pa!” Dane spat. “It’s my real pa’s car and it’s mine by rights.”

  The boys silenced as a collective and satisfied themselves with being in their volatile leader’s company as an alternative to wrecking a car. “You didn’t dump us too then?” Paul asked, shooting a look at Darren.

  Dane shook his head. “No, but I won’t be around much longer, so don’t sweat it.”

  The boys glanced at each other in confusion but nobody dared speak, settling into their own thoughts and pondering his statement without understanding. Sophia pushed her legs down flat on the ground, aware of Oliver’s efforts to look up her skirt. She wondered how the backside and gusset of a pair of hol
ey navy blue pantyhose could be considered a turn on, but he seemed to enjoy it. Hating her vulnerability, Sophia leaned her weight against the wall and removed his view. She tugged at her skirt and Oliver grimaced, looking disappointed.

  Sophia engrossed herself with pulling the nylon away from the cut as Dane did, bringing the drying scab with it. It began to bleed again and she let go with a sigh and tried to avoid Oliver’s intense scrutiny.

  “Let’s wag!” Nigel suggested, as though it was some amazing new concept like flying or eating snails. He stared up into the bright sunshine, turning away when the glare blinded him and made his eyes water. Sophia hid a smile.

  “I’m in,” Paul declared. “I hate maths.”

  “How would you know? You haven’t been for two years.” Oliver snorted.

  “I’m in too. Can we go back to yours, Darren?”

  Darren shook his head. “Na, soz, Nigel. Dad lost his job. He caught me last week.”

  They didn’t bother inviting Sophia, making it clear she wasn’t included in their impromptu getaway.

  “Yeah, let’s go down by the river again.” Paul sat up. “You come, Dane. We’ll get the girls. You can sort them out; make them get rid of the blades.”

  “No.” Dane’s tone sounded level and determined.

  Sophia smiled at the thought of geography next, followed by legal studies. Dane attended both classes and even better, none of The Plastics did. Sophia spitefully fanaticised about possible classes for them, coming up with ‘makeup handling, spot squeezing and baby making.’ She disguised a snort of mirth as a cough and Dane smirked sideways at her as though reading her mind.

  The bell sounded for the end of lunch, offering a five-minute warning to pack up and get to class before being considered late. The four boys each high fived Dane before wagging off towards the river; their decision made without further discussion. He clambered to his feet and then helped Sophia up, slotting her empty packed lunch box into her rucksack and zipping up her bag. His close contact made her stomach fizz and she searched his face for reciprocal emotions, seeing only blankness in his expression. “That was a good lunch,” he said. “You’re real lucky to get lunches like that.”

  “Yeah.” Sophia nodded, wishing she’d appreciated her family back when it functioned and lunches could be taken for granted. She followed Dane over the wall and they walked to class together, bumping elbows a couple of times. “Why don’t you wag off?” she asked. “You’re always in class.”

  Dane shrugged. “I don’t wanna be stuck in this dead town in ten years’ time, wishing I tried harder. Decent results are my ticket out of this dump.”

  Sophia became aware of myriad eyes staring in her direction as she allied with the school alpha, not knowing whether to feel proud or scared. Their affiliation invited interest and speculation she wasn’t sure she wanted. In a few days, Dane might be gone and she’d be alone without protection; back to being Sandra’s punching bag until one of them left. The next months stretched in front of her like a road map of pain, humiliation and misery. At some point along its course, she may discover what happened to her mother but until then, she carried the weight in her chest like a lead block. Sophia shook her head to dispel the cloud of defeatism, feeling it press back as soon as the movement ceased. She hated it. She hated herself.

  Sophia wondered for the first time ever, what it would be like to fight back. It might give her credibility if she succeeded. Spotty Chelsea did exactly that, bashing one of the nastiest girls from her year. Nobody called her pizza face or touched her after that day. Except Dane perhaps. The thought of him kissing her for ten minutes paled into unlikelihood and relief made Sophia smile.

  “What?” Dane asked, noticing her expression and Sophia let it fall away.

  “Nothing.” She shook her head. “I’m just tired of it all.”

  Dane nodded and bumped her shoulder with his upper arm. “Yep. Me too. They say if you don’t like it then change it, but it’s not so easy, is it?”

  Sophia thought of Sandra with her knife and quailed. She wouldn’t survive fighting back. The other girl gave off an aura of mania; no sense meant no conscience and Sophia knew Sandra possessed no such thing as a moral boundary. Her eyes flicked to Declan Harris in the distance, standing with his crowd of fellow Christians like a holy huddle. She knew them from her youth group and didn’t want them standing judgement over her actions, even those committed in self-defence.

  Dane carried her bag across the field, making them appear even more like a couple. Sophia caught another round of interested looks and took her bag strap from his long fingers, feeling a stab of guilt at his look of surprise. “It’ll make life even more difficult for me,” she said with sadness, “if you’re leaving. They’re out to get me anyway; this will just make it worse.”

  He released the bag and they walked together in companionable silence, cutting a swathe through the milling crowds. “Come out with me after school?” Dane asked, gnawing on his cheek. “Or do you have to get home?” He seemed nervous and wrong footed, making Sophia anxious.

  She shook her head. “Edgar works until six, so yes, thanks. I’ve got money today so I can pay. You paid last time.”

  Dane smiled with relief. “Who’s Edgar?”

  “Oh, he’s my dad.” Sophia felt embarrassed at her public error.

  “Why do you call him Edgar? Is he not your real dad?” Dane’s question sounded innocent and lacking in guile.

  Sophia took a deep breath in and let it out. Bodies lined the courtyard making her feel suffocated. Students milled around, waiting for the second bell when staff unlocked the doors and allowed them into classrooms. Sophia hung back, looking up at Dane with an appeal on her face.

  “What’s wrong, Soph?” He turned to face her, sensing her distress and leaning closer to hear.

  Like a burst dam her secret spilled out, whispered and gushing. With it came immense relief at not holding it inside her like a time bomb. “He doesn’t seem like my dad anymore. It’s not the same. He’s not the same. Not since...ever since...” She gulped air and it blocked her windpipe. Dane moved in front of her with his back to the crowd, shielding her from view with his height. His brow narrowed in concern as Sophia delivered her dirty secret. “Mum disappeared after New Year. The day after Matt left, Dad went to work after dropping me at Maddie’s and while we were out, she went somewhere. After a day, dad reported her missing but the police won’t look for her and she never came back. We don’t know where she is.” Sophia finished with a sob, aware of the sound of her breathlessness and sweat running down her spine. It felt as though she hadn’t breathed for such a long time.

  Dane moved so close she smelled his deodorant and the spearmint gum on his breath. “That’s over two months,” he whispered, his eyes narrowed.

  Sophia nodded, her head wobbling on her neck without control. She watched as his head shook from side to side and he reached out to touch her arm. Then he swore, a word she couldn’t repeat. “Adults!” he spat. “Why do they do this?”

  Someone noticed their closeness and let out a loud wolf whistle along with a few inappropriate comments, but Sophia hid in the shadow of Dane’s sympathy. His rumpled, second-hand shirt still smelled of its previous owner and the washing powder her mother used. The curious, heady mix mingled Sophia’s past and present in a confusion of emotions. As the classrooms behind them filled and the courtyard emptied, Dane reached forward and stroked her wet cheek with tender fingers. “I’m sorry,” he said with genuine compassion. “That sucks as bad as anything I’m going through.”

  They sat together in geography and legal studies, working hard and ignoring the sudden interest in their allegiance. Maddie and Heather whispered to each other behind their hands and Sophia pretended they didn’t exist. Oblivious, Dane neither noticed nor cared.

  The teachers eyed the couple with curiosity from the staffroom window at the end of the school day, plainly hoping Sophia’s new friendship didn’t detonate her usual, guaranteed go
od behaviour. “He’s not a bad kid,” the English teacher commented to his colleague, who slurped coffee next to him.

  “Na, you watch,” the other man predicted. “I’ve seen it happen too many times before. Kids like him ruin nice girls like her.”

  “You’re wrong,” the graphics teacher chimed in. “He’s got potential that Dane McArdle. He might be from a bad part of town but he’s a neat kid. He’s kept that group of misfits in line for years. We owe him for that.”

  “Well, they’re not in line now!” Someone else commented. “I heard Louise cut another girl today. The Year 12 dean checked her for a blade but found nothing and nobody made a complaint. I’m not sure what’s going on there but it’s a powder keg.”

  “Yep.” The English teacher finished his coffee and shoved the cup into the dishwasher. “When did we stop being teachers and become social workers and cops?”

  Dane collected his car from the student car park and drove Sophia to the little primary school on Hukanui Road. “I won’t be long,” he promised, leaving her in the passenger seat and running across the main road towards the school. Sophia admired his tall, athletic build through the windscreen, blushing at the inappropriate thoughts her ogling produced. “I wonder if he kisses nice,” she asked her reflection in the passenger mirror, horrified at her brazenness. Ask spotty Chelsea, it whispered back. Sophia snapped the visor into position and tried to wipe the thoughts from her mind before Dane returned and saw the tell-tale blush on her cheeks.

  He emerged ten minutes later with two small children in tow; a delicate little girl of about six and an even smaller boy. Dane put them into the back of the car and made sure they belted up before heading into town. The children sat in total silence in the back seat, looking through the window and eyeing one another.

  “Hi,” Sophia said, twisting her head around the seats and smiling. The children looked nervous, brown eyes wide as they assessed her. They said nothing and Sophia gave up, her brow furrowed with the awkwardness of their silence.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Dane looked across at Sophia and smiled, leaving her feeling flushed and confused. “They’ll be okay soon. It’s not you.”

  He drove them to a burger place at the Five Crossroads and they piled out of the vehicle. The girl grappled for Dane’s hand as though drowning and Sophia watched the agony in the brown eyes calm, as her tiny hand fitted into his palm. To her surprise, the little boy seized Sophia’s fingers, looking up at her and smiling with a gap between his front teeth. “Maisie needs Dane,” he said as though by way of explanation. “She can’t help it.”

  The children’s behaviour seemed more curious against the back drop of other minors in the burger shop. They didn’t play up or act silly like the others, not making demands about food or insisting on particular drinks. They followed Dane like trusting little lambs after a shepherd, sitting where he put them and not begging to go on the adjacent playground. Maisie watched Dane with constant intensity, never letting him out of her sight and moving her head to keep eye contact even when Will leaned across to speak to her and blocked her view. Sophia stood at the counter with Dane, her heart aching with an emotion she didn’t understand. “They’re really well behaved aren’t they? And so quiet.” Her eyes strayed to a small girl lying on the floor smashing her fists against the tiles.

  “You’re not having coke,” her mother repeated, flushed with embarrassment at the child’s behaviour.

  Dane followed Sophia’s gaze and nodded as they waited for their turn to be served. He gave his answer in low tones to avoid the rest of the queue hearing. “They’ve learned the quieter they are; the less trouble comes their way.”

  It was a curious thing to say and made Sophia wonder what he meant. Dane ordered burgers for them all and refused Sophia’s attempt to pay. “I’m working. I can afford it.”

  “Where do you work?” she asked, interested.

  “That wee garden centre in Rototuna. Let me do this; I’m fine for money at the moment.”

  They returned to the table and the eerily silent children. As soon as Dane sat down and dished out the drinks, it was like a switch flicked. The little people reverted to being kids, telling childish jokes, swinging their legs under the table and making each other giggle. Dane cast a safety net over them with his presence and as long as he stayed close, they relaxed.

  “I’m William,” the little boy said, turning his delightful gaze on Sophia. “That’s Maisie.” He pointed a chip in the girl’s direction and she stared at Sophia with her frightened expression. Dark haired like Dane, the resemblance stopped there. His eyes were a powerful blue, but theirs were chocolate brown like adorable puppies. There were certain characteristics which defined them as siblings, but it was obvious Dane had different parentage.

  “What’s your name?” William asked Sophia, but before she could answer, Dane interrupted.

  “Sophia,” he said, wiping ketchup from the boy’s chin. “So be nice. Don’t act dumb.”

  Sophia liked the way he said her name, stressing the ‘i’ sound and making her seem like a princess. She stopped with her burger half way to her mouth with William’s next probing question.

  “If you’re Dane’s girlfriend, could you please be our mummy and then Dane could be our daddy? That means we won’t have to go anywhere else ever again. We could live with you forever and don’t need to live with Marie and Carl.”

  Sophia looked confused and sadness clouded Dane’s expression. Maisie said her first sentence, her voice sweet and melodic. “I like living with Marie and Carl. They’re kind. They take us to school in the car and give us nice lunches.”

  “They do, don’t they. Marie cuddles me all the time and I like that.” William looked conflicted, darting looks from Dane to Maisie.

  The older boy gave him a smile which released him from the temporary turmoil. “Eat your dinner, Will.”

  Sophia looked at Dane and as the tiny children discussed what might happen if they squeezed the tomato sauce sachet, he leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Foster parents.” His face whitened in pain and he watched for a moment, ensuring their distraction before moving closer to Sophia. “Last time their dad came out, he managed a few months before the cops banged him up again. Child services took Maisie and Will into care and put them with the people they’re talking about. They’re a real nice couple. They love the kids and I got the feeling they’d like to adopt them. Maybe they will this time.” He stopped talking as the attendant brought colouring sets over for the children. Will said a lovely ‘thank you’ and received a smile in return. Maisie nodded her thanks and slipped the package under the table and onto her lap.

  “You think it’ll happen again? What happens to you?” Sophia whispered and Dane shook his head, focussing on his burger.

  “It will happen again; it’s a certainty. People like mine shouldn’t be allowed to have kids. Child services used to take me too. A couple of times I went into a hostel, but it wasn’t great. Last time because I was over sixteen they didn’t really want to know. I found somewhere to go and then came back when he went inside again.”

  Sophia considered his dilemma. She thought her circumstances were awful, but she had a guaranteed warm bed and a house to go to, regardless of whether her mother reappeared or not. She swallowed, her appetite waning. “It must be dreadful not to know where to go.”

  Maisie fixed her eyes on Dane, fitting the rest of her burger into the bag with the crayons. Sophia watched the deft movement with horror. “Will you sleep under the bridge again Dane, when daddy gets home and we go to Marie and Carl’s? Will you come and see us still?” She looked anxious, her brown eyes wide and her face fearful. “You won’t forget about me and Will.”

  “I won’t need to sleep under the bridge.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ve got the car this time, haven’t I? I’ll sleep there. And I’ll never forget about my best girl. How could I?”

  A dreadful lump lodged in Sophia’s chest. She didn’t know peop
le lived like these children; at the mercy of a violent man’s whims and foibles. How could Dane’s mother let such a man back into their lives? Dane picked up on Sophia’s sadness as Will asked for her food. “Yes, sorry, I’m not really hungry. You enjoy it.” She pushed her tray across to the children and they picked it apart and shared her leftovers. Will ate his but Maisie put hers into the package and held it against her chest like it contained fine china.

  Dane’s eyes never left Sophia’s face as he reached up and brushed a stray curl from her neck, tucking it over her shoulder with care. “We’ll be fine,” he reassured her in a whisper. “And so will you. Whatever doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger; or so they say.” He smiled and slipped his hand under the table, giving her fingers a quick squeeze before letting go. The small act of kindness and solidarity touched Sophia’s soul and she felt a rush of emotion which burst into her chest and threatened to leak from her eyes.

  The children kept close as they left, each teenager clutching a tiny fragile hand in theirs. They went out to the car park in a line of bodies; the most like a family Sophia had felt for months, dysfunctional as it might seem. None of them had any control over their lives. They were like reluctant passengers on the freight trains which sped through the city every half an hour.

  Dane dropped Sophia at home and she waved the little family off from the steps outside, trying to pull silly faces for the children. Dane got out of the car and walked her to the bottom of the steps. He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Take care,” he said and smiled at her. Sophia felt her stomach clunk into her knees at his touch and found herself speechless long after he’d reversed from the driveway and driven off.

  Isolation crowded round her like an old acquaintance as soon as she stepped inside the house. As always, she listened for the sound of her mother’s footsteps or voice, hearing nothing. She searched for Sally’s briefcase against the chair in the sunroom like she did every day, its black leather coming fresh from court with important documents inside. She dreamed of finding her lawyer mother pouring over papers from its silk lined belly as she planned her defence and stirred soup for dinner. Nothing. Sophia’s search took her to the master bedroom where the briefcase sat collecting dust in the wardrobe where Sally abandoned it last. As always, silence filled the empty house.