The Foster Child

by Jenny Blackhurst

‘Yes, I do,’ I say firmly. ‘There was no evidence that anyone else was with her at all.’

  ‘No evidence, right. So you don’t think someone could have done it without knowing?’

  I give her a curious look. ‘What a strange thing to ask, Ellie Atkinson. How on earth would someone hurt a person and not know they’ve done it?’

  ‘Like if they were in a trance or something, maybe.’

  ‘You mean like hypnotised? Really, Ellie, you should be a writer with an imagination like that. Look, let’s cut across here.’ I gesture to the grass; it will save us a long walk around the outside of the park. It’s damp but not muddy, and our feet leave trails in the dew behind us.

  ‘Not hypnotised then; maybe sleepwalking?’

  I laugh. ‘Are we still on this? No,’ I look her firmly in the eye, ‘nobody hurt Ms Gilbert, with or without knowing it. She fell, that’s all. Do you want to talk about how you feel about her being gone?’

  ‘You said this wasn’t a session, remember?’ Ellie points a finger at me. ‘You said it was a weekend and I didn’t have to talk about feelings.’

  ‘You don’t,’ I promise. ‘I was just checking.’

  She’s right. When I called Sarah and Mark Jefferson’s house the previous evening and asked if they would mind if I took Ellie out for lunch, Sarah agreed almost instantly, relief painfully apparent in her voice. She didn’t even ask whether it was entirely appropriate for me to be taking one of my cases for a day out – it isn’t – or if my superiors knew – they don’t. She just called to Ellie, who agreed almost as quickly as Sarah, on the condition that she didn’t have to talk about ‘any of that feelings stuff’.

  We spend the next hour wandering around the shops, Ellie trying on clothes and jewellery, me watching in delight as she whirls in and out of changing rooms. She looks so delighted with one of the trendy outfits she puts on that on impulse I ask the assistant to take the garments to the till when she is finally finished.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Ellie gushes, her eyes sparkling. I smile and nod.

  ‘You can’t leave something that nice behind. How about we go and find you a necklace to go with it?’

  I know I shouldn’t – I’m breaking every rule in the non-existent rule book back at the office – but the look on Ellie’s face and the way she throws herself at me in a huge hug makes it absolutely worth any trouble I might get into if Edward finds out.

  ‘I’ll look just like the girls at school,’ she remarks, and something in her voice makes my heart hurt. The thing about Ellie is that she is nothing like the majority of girls at that school; the fact that she is so desperate to fit in is heartbreaking.

  55

  Ellie

  If anything good can be found in all this foster-baby mess, it’s that in a few weeks’ time Billy is going to be leaving the Jeffersons for good. They say it isn’t because of the baby; Billy is going back to his mother – just those words stab at Ellie’s heart; how come a monster like Billy gets to go home to his mum when Ellie will never get to? – but as soon as they heard the news, Sarah was measuring up his room for the cot that was sitting flat-packed in the dining room.

  ‘I told you what was going to happen,’ Mary remarks miserably as the three of them sit on the old rusting swing set in the back garden, gently drifting back and forth. From here they can see Sarah going in and out of Billy’s room, carrying bits of furniture, a stupid grin plastered on her face.

  ‘Well actually you said it would be me they got rid of,’ Ellie replies. ‘At least that hasn’t come true. And Billy wants to go back to his mum, don’t you?’

  ‘Better than staying with you,’ he remarks, and Ellie sticks out her tongue, but she doesn’t care. He’s leaving and that’s all that matters.

  ‘You wait,’ Billy warns, his voice low and ominous. ‘You’re next.’

  ‘I bet he’s right,’ Mary agrees. ‘I’m telling you, they’d send me packing and just have a house full of babies if they could. She’s been obsessed with it for years.’ She nods up at the window, where Sarah, spotting them, gives a happy wave. ‘Ever since my little sister died.’

  ‘You had a sister who died?’ Ellie asks.

  ‘Well yeah, but I didn’t hardly know her. I was really little when she was born and she died right away. Mum was so broken, it’s like she’s been trying to replace her ever since. Like she’s got a jigsaw missing a section and she thinks she can just grab a different jigsaw and make one of those pieces fit instead.’

  Mary says this matter-of-factly, but to Ellie it makes so much sense of the way Sarah has been since she arrived here. Like she had a play all written in her mind and Ellie is getting her part wrong because she’s never seen the script. Billy didn’t matter all along; it was a little girl Sarah was trying to replace.

  ‘That poor baby,’ Ellie whispers.

  ‘Huh?’ Mary frowns. ‘That poor baby will get everything it could want – I wouldn’t feel too sorry for her if I were you.’

  ‘She’s going to spend her whole life trying to live up to a baby who never lived long enough to be anything but perfect,’ Ellie says, staring up at the window.

  ‘I didn’t think of that,’ Mary replies, following Ellie’s gaze. ‘Looks like me and Lily will have something in common after all.’

  56

  Imogen

  I laugh as I watch Ellie try to fit the entire top of the mountainous mint-chocolate-chip ice cream into her mouth at once. When she finally manages to get her lips around it I ask, ‘So, how are things going at school?’

  She pulls a face, her mouth full of gooey ice cream.

  ‘Mmmm mmm mmmmm,’ she says earnestly, earning a rapturous laugh from me. She swallows and grins. ‘You did that on purpose,’ she says, ice cream covering her upper lip and the tip of her nose.

  ‘Would I?’ I grin.

  It’s wonderful to see this side of Ellie. The intensity that burned inside her the previous times I’ve been with her seems to have melted, revealing the intelligent, funny young girl I always hoped was in there. She was right when she said I’d never met a girl like her before. And Hannah was right when she said that Ellie knew things she shouldn’t. But she was wrong about the evil in her heart, I’m sure of it. Ellie knows things because she is by and large ignored, transparent. People let themselves open up when ghost children like her are around; they let their masks slip a little because they barely even notice their existence. Add to that her high intelligence, and it’s inevitable she will notice and realise more than a normal kid her age does.

  ‘But seriously, things any better?’

  Ellie nods. ‘A bit. Since I’ve been talking to you, I feel less klutzy. I don’t stand out as much any more and I think they’re bored of picking on me now I don’t get mad and set people on fire.’ She laughs at the shocked look on my face. Did I mention her wicked sense of humour? It’s like talking to a girl twice her age. ‘Seriously, though, since I’ve been holding my temper, I’m no fun any more. And I’ve been looking at those YouTube videos you showed me.’

  I frown. ‘I didn’t show you those so you could use them yourself,’ I chide, remembering how Ellie told me she wished she could be more like me, wished she knew how to do make-up and dress nicely. I confided in her that I used to be terrible at those things, until a friend of mine – Pammy – told me about the YouTube tutorials and I spent hours learning how to put on foundation and blusher, which brushes to use and what hairstyle complimented my face shape. I was trying to show her that that kind of knowledge doesn’t come naturally – that no one is just naturally ‘cool’, even if they pretend to be. Instead she convinced me to show her what I meant, and I stupidly fell for it.

  ‘I wouldn’t worry. Sarah doesn’t care if we wear make-up, as long as we don’t look like clowns. She’s so busy preparing for the baby that she wouldn’t notice if I left the house looking like Ru Paul.’

  I cackle. ‘And how does an eleven-year-old girl know who Ru Paul is, anyway?’

  Ellie shrug
s. ‘I heard my mum talking about him once so I googled him. Actually, what she said was that Auntie Abigail wore so much make-up that she looked more like Ru Paul than Cindy Crawford. She was right,’ she adds mischievously.

  ‘And home?’ I’m almost afraid to ask. My argument with Sarah in the town café seems to have been forgotten by everyone but me. When I told my boss about it, he looked concerned, but told me that ultimately we’re not social services, and that it isn’t our place to interfere in the foster system unless we suspect abuse. ‘Foster carers are hard to come by, you know,’ he added.

  ‘Sarah’s excited about the baby?’ I ask when Ellie doesn’t reply. My hand unconsciously touches my stomach. I’m certain I’ve begun to feel the beginnings of a bump in the last week; it feels harder than it did before, although it’s probably too soon for all that and I’m just paranoid. I mentioned period bloating to Dan just in case he noticed, and I wear baggier tops to work. With every day that passes, I can hear the clock ticking inside my head. I know I have to make a decision about the life growing inside me – say it, Imogen: your baby – but every day I manage to tell myself that I will make a decision tomorrow.

  ‘Yup. It’s all she ever talks about.’ Ellie jumps down from the back of the bench where she was perched and dumps the remainder of her ice-cream cone in the bin. I pat the seat next to me and she sits down sideways, facing me with her feet tucked up on the bench, her knees close to her chest. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her looking so relaxed. ‘Mary is furious.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘She doesn’t want a baby in the house,’ Ellie replies matter-of-factly. ‘Keeps saying that all they do is cry and that Sarah won’t have time for us any more.’

  ‘It’s understandable for her to feel that way. She already shares her parents, but a baby is a different kettle of fish. Are you worried about that too?’

  Ellie shakes her head. ‘Nah. I don’t really want Sarah’s attention, you know? And I know I’m not staying there forever, although I’d like to keep Mary as a kind of sister. It doesn’t feel like home, though. It’s like I’m just a lodger.’ She shrugs. ‘Which I guess I am.’

  ‘Do you think it’s just that you don’t want to settle in? So it won’t be so hard when you have to move on?’

  Ellie eyes me suspiciously. ‘You’re doing the counsellor voice again.’

  I grin. ‘Well that’s what I’m supposed to sound like, Ellie Atkinson. You can’t keep getting free passes from talking about your feelings just because you buy me ice cream.’

  ‘You bought the ice cream,’ Ellie reminds me. ‘And now I see why.’ Her face is mock stern. ‘Yeah, you’re probably right. I dunno. I just feel like my forever home will be different. Like it will immediately feel right. Like when I’m with you.’

  My stomach lurches. I’ve been afraid of this; the little voice in my head has warned me that I’m letting Ellie get too close, too attached. I pushed it away because I’m so sure I’m doing something good, Ellie is progressing so well, but there’s always the fear that I’m going to screw something up again.

  ‘But Ellie, you know—’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Ellie cuts me off, saving me from having to find the words to let her down gently. ‘I know you can’t be my new mum or anything. You’ve got enough on your plate.’

  I’m about to ask what she means by that when I see her face go tense. I turn in the direction she’s looking and see Naomi Harper and two girls walking towards the bench we’re sitting on, seemingly oblivious to our presence.

  ‘That’s the girl who accused you of pushing her into the road, isn’t it?’ I say quietly. Ellie nods.

  ‘Do you want to go? We can walk that way.’ I nod across the park, a route that would take us clean away from the girls – they might not even notice us leave.

  ‘No.’ Ellie shakes her head firmly. ‘I’m not afraid of her.’

  I don’t know whether to be proud of her or scared for her. I’m not afraid of a little shit like Naomi, and I very much doubt she will try anything while I’m around to witness it, but that doesn’t stop my heart thumping dangerously fast as I watch the girls approach.

  When Naomi notices us, it seems to be genuinely for the first time. She locks eyes with Ellie, her face darkening.

  ‘Hi, miss, hi, Ellie. Nice day for an outdoor counselling session.’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Ellie replies, and there is a slight tone of defiance in her voice. Naomi looks as though she’s about to say something else when she catches sight of Ellie’s canvas bag lying on the bench at her side.

  ‘Is that Limitless? I didn’t know anyone else even liked them.’ There is genuine surprise in Naomi’s voice, and was that a note of respect? ‘No one I know has even heard of them.’

  ‘Oh, er . . .’ Ellie looks caught off guard, as though she has been preparing for barbed comments, or even for the girl to strike out. ‘Yeah. My mum knew one of their dads so we used to go and watch them play sometimes.’

  ‘That’s really cool,’ Naomi says, a small but seemingly genuine smile playing on her lips. ‘I might have been wrong about you. Your hair looks nice today. Actually, when you’re not in clothes three sizes too big, you look really pretty.’

  Ellie shrugs her thanks, playing it cool, and although Naomi’s words were insensitive I get the impression they weren’t meant to sting. It’s true, I noticed the first time I met Ellie that her hand-me-down clothes and frizzy hair set her apart from the other girls. Today she’s wearing the outfit I bought for her and her hair is sleek and straight. She even has the smallest amount of make-up on – although nothing to give Ru Paul a run for his money.

  Perhaps this Naomi girl isn’t as bad as she seemed the first time I met her; after all, she had just fallen in front of a car. Besides, it was her mother who was the nightmare that day; Naomi herself barely said a word.

  ‘Well, see you in school.’ Naomi raises a hand in a goodbye and gestures to her friends to keep walking. Ellie looks as though the other girl has just named her prom queen.

  ‘She seems all right,’ I offer when Naomi is far enough away not to hear us.

  ‘She’s actually been pretty mean to me,’ Ellie admits, watching the girls retreat. ‘But she’s right, that school uniform makes me look like such a loser. I’m not surprised I stand out a mile. And then after what happened in town . . .’

  ‘What did happen, Ellie?’ I venture. I’ve never asked her about that day, choosing to trust what I’m certain I saw with my own two eyes instead, but today she seems in the mood to open up.

  ‘I didn’t push her. I already told you that. You said you saw it.’ Her words are sharp and accusatory, the Ellie I met on that first day resurfacing in an instant.

  ‘I know you didn’t,’ I say, back-pedalling quickly. ‘Let’s forget all about it. Did your mum really know one of these boys’ parents?’

  Ellie grins and all is forgotten. It strikes me how fast she can go from intense to normal and back again. Which one is real? ‘Nope. Made that up. She seemed impressed, though. I might offer to get her a signed T-shirt or something. It might make up for having to wear a clown uniform,’ she adds darkly.

  ‘Look,’ I say, getting to my feet. ‘Come with me. We’ll see if we can’t pick you up a new shirt and trousers for school, a set you don’t have to pin at the waist. You’ll have to keep them clean and tidy, mind you,’ I warn, and Ellie nods eagerly, her face bright with gratitude. I don’t even give the small voice in the back of my mind time to tell me it’s a bad idea as we set off into town.

  57

  Imogen

  ‘You seem bright and breezy today,’ Dan remarks, coming up behind me and planting a kiss on my cheek. ‘Was that humming I just heard? Or was your growl malfunctioning?’

  I swat at his face with the sponge I’m using to wash up, and he ducks and nips playfully at my neck. I squeal and shove him away.

  ‘Sod off.’ I smile. ‘I’m not that grumpy that a hum is a news story, am I?’ My husband purses
his lips and turns his head in a mock ‘I’m saying nothing’ gesture.

  ‘Oh God, I’m sorry, Dan.’ I chuck the sponge in the sink, wipe my soapy hands on my jeans and turn to face him. ‘This was supposed to be a fresh start for us, to get away from you having to look after your mentally fragile wife.’

  ‘You are mentally one of the strongest women I know.’ Dan wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his shoulder. ‘What happened was nothing to do with your mental state. It happened because you care too much. Which is why I was getting a bit worried about how concerned you are about this Ellie girl.’ He leans back to check my reaction, one eye closed, still mucking around. I smile.

  ‘Well you really don’t have to worry,’ I assure him, extracting myself from his arms. ‘Ellie is coming on leaps and bounds. Today I was practically—’

  ‘Today?’ Dan frowns. ‘You said you were just nipping into town today.’ His face darkens. ‘Imogen?’

  ‘It was a spur-of-the-moment thing,’ I lie quickly. ‘I decided to pop in and see how she was getting on and asked if she wanted to go out for ice cream. Her foster mum said it was fine.’ I’m aware of how defensive I sound, but it’s true. Sarah Jefferson was distracted by something – baby arrangements by the sounds of what Ellie was saying – and agreed instantly, and by the look she cast Billy, she was probably wishing I had come to take him too. I make a mental note to check when I’m back at the office that Sarah is using her respite sessions.

  ‘Well, I suppose if she agreed then it can’t do any harm. And you think she’s improving?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ I beam. ‘And we saw a couple of girls from her class. One of them said her hair looked really pretty and she was pleased as Punch. I think she’s really made a breakthrough.’ I don’t mention the new uniform I bought Ellie, or the hug the girl gave me when I dropped her off, squeezing me tightly and whispering in my ear, ‘I wish you were my foster mum.’ Or the way it felt to be making a real difference in someone’s life.