by Phil Earle
Thinking hard, I traced my steps back to the dining room. Aside from a slice of pizza I hadn’t eaten in ages and my stomach was telling me to sort it out.
Maya was nursing a cup of tea and a file at one of the benches, and she was only too happy to show me where everything lived. Three slices of toast and a bowl of Shreddies later, my stomach had just about forgiven me.
Maya didn’t hassle me as I ate. She wasn’t hungry for the inside track on what had gone on the night before. She just looked happy to see me on my feet, and returned to her reading.
By the time I’d stacked my plates in the dishwasher, Ade had appeared, a look of delight on her face to see me up.
‘Now this is a good sign,’ she said, beaming. ‘And the first time I’ve seen you walk without falling over.’
My face flushed and I said nothing. She had been a stranger last night and I’d relied on her so heavily. It didn’t feel right to do the same again today.
‘Tell me, are you feeling well this morning?’
‘Better.’
‘OK, fine. Then we must busy ourselves. I will show you around properly before we meet with the doctor.’
I must have looked apprehensive, as she shook her head and told me not to worry, this was a different person, not the ‘fool who could not even look us in the eye’.
It was a relief that she wasn’t rushing me up to see the doctor straight away. In fact, it became clear that Ade didn’t really rush to do anything, last night’s rescue aside.
We spent the next half-hour dawdling around the site as she pointed out the different rooms. It was a maze, full of corridors and hidden spaces. The older part of the building housed all the bedrooms, lounge, kitchen and games room, while the newer, soulless part took care of the staff offices and education unit. Until then I hadn’t a clue that I wouldn’t be going back to school, and although sharing a classroom with Patrick or Naomi didn’t appeal, it was certainly a better option than facing Donna or Hobson.
As we walked, Ade talked about last night, asking how long I had been experiencing the muscular pain, how the others had been with me, how I was feeling about being here at all. I knew she was digging, enticing me to give things away that would help her assess me, but she did it so gently and with so little fuss that it felt different from when Evelyn had done it. And even though I wasn’t giving anything away, she accepted every word with a nod, before moving on to the next subject.
‘No one will push you to talk about things, Daisy,’ she explained. ‘Our job is to help you find the answers yourself, if that is your choice. But at the same time I cannot imagine that you want to be here any longer than is necessary.’ She lifted her eyebrows at me and I nodded in return. Of course I didn’t.
‘Then use this place well. Me, the staff, the others like Naomi, or even Jimmy. All of us can help you in some way. All of us can help you leave as quickly as you wish.’
‘Where do people go? You know, once they leave here?’
‘That depends on their age, on how effectively they engage with what we do at Bellfield. I will not lie to you, Daisy. For every young person that finds a foster placement, or moves into their own flat with our help, there are those who are, well, moved on involuntarily.’
‘Do you mean prison?’
She looked sad at the thought. ‘There have been occasions when a secure environment has become the only option, yes. And those are sad days for us all. What you must focus on, at all times, is the day you walk out of here to start a new life with a new family.’
The thought made me shiver, reminded me just how on my own I was. What if I didn’t get the answers to what was going on, or they never found anyone willing to take a risk on me?
‘Is it possible they’ll let me move back home?’ I asked. ‘What if I didn’t want a new family? Couldn’t someone just drop in on me, check I was OK, that I hadn’t set fire to anything?’
‘Anything is possible in time, and you must not worry about what will happen to your house. Nothing will be done without your consent. But I must be honest, the arrangement you’re after would be unusual, impossible even, in the short term. Small steps, my friend, starting with sorting out your meds.’
Our appointment with the doctor didn’t last long: a quick fifteen minutes for him to reach the same conclusion that Ade had. He was kind enough, smilier than the woman the night before and certainly not as quick to judge either of us.
All it took, apparently, to stop the convulsions returning would be two other tablets a day, and although he tried to explain how they worked, I didn’t want to listen. I just wanted him to be right.
We left his office in the new part of the building and returned to the sunshine.
Summer had arrived and, although I didn’t feel I deserved to celebrate it, it did make me feel more alive. Anything was better than hospital.
Ade, however, was in no mood to sunbathe.
‘Daisy, there are things we must do today.’
There was something about the statement I didn’t like, so I approached it with trepidation.
‘Like what?’
‘Several things. Some happen here every day, but that is this afternoon. The first thing we must do isn’t easy, but it is necessary.’
‘What’s that?’
‘We must go to your home and collect some things. Things that will make you more comfortable. Like clothes. Your clothes.’
‘Do we have to go?’ I asked. I wasn’t sure I could do it, not today.
But Ade was adamant, without being bossy. ‘Oh yes, my friend. It must be today. One more day in that shirt and you will smell worse than the two boys put together.’
And that was the conversation over. There wasn’t anything you could say after that.
Chapter 26
The house felt dark despite the sunshine, so much so that I flicked on the hall light as we entered. I turned back to the door and looked up to Mum’s window, relieved to see the bulb warming up her sun. Maybe I should leave the light on as we left, to keep some life in the place even though none of us remained.
‘This is a lovely house,’ Ade said, stroking my arm. ‘I have never seen a window quite like this before. Was it here when you moved in?’
I shook my head, told her my mum had made it.
‘Then she was a rare talent, your mother. A little like you, eh?’
It didn’t feel right her making comments like that. What was she basing it on? She knew nothing about me.
‘I couldn’t do anything like that.’
‘Did she make other things? Maybe something we could bring with us?’
I shrugged. There was nothing else.
‘Daisy, I know this is not an easy thing to do. So you must be in control. We can spend as little time here as you like, or as much. Maybe it would be best to gather your clothes so we can get moving quickly if you need to.’
Obediently, I climbed the stairs, leaving Ade in the kitchen. From the sounds she was making, it appeared she was emptying both the fridge and the bin.
There was a stale smell upstairs as well, like the air had given up moving around. I didn’t bother opening any windows. What was the point?
Instead I headed for the airing cupboard, grabbing the biggest holdall I could find, before emptying the contents of my underwear drawer into it.
Next were various pairs of jeans from my wardrobe, and a couple of oversized hoodies, shapeless and too big, but perfect to hide in.
What I couldn’t find, though, were shirts. Long-sleeved ones anyway. My mind flicked back to the day of the crash, and I remembered that I was wearing Dad’s shirt because none of mine were clean. Raking through the washing basket only gave me a couple of options. It was obvious they weren’t going to be enough.
I paused before entering Dad’s room, knowing that everything in there had the potential to push me over the edge. But at the same time I had to do it. Inhaling dee
ply, as if about to push my way underwater, I opened the door and went in.
It wasn’t in the worst state I’d ever seen. He’d managed to open the curtains that last morning, but there were small piles of clothes puddled in each corner of the room. A stale tobacco smell lingered – little wonder, given the overflowing ashtray on his bedside table. An ashtray and a half-empty bottle of spirits. It certainly wasn’t the legacy he deserved to leave.
I fought hard to push the emotions back. This was something I had to do now: had to be strong, get things done on my own. There was no other way. I had no choice.
After rifling through his wardrobe, I found what I was looking for. I picked out half a dozen of his shirts – not his best work ones, and nothing with a short sleeve. But they were soft and lived-in, and would hide everything that needed to stay hidden.
I shoved them into the bag and went back to my room. Scanning the walls, I chose my favourite photos of me and Dad, peeling them from the wallpaper before dropping them on top of the shirts.
The bag wasn’t heavy as I dragged it down the stairs, but it highlighted how little energy I had in my bones. Ade was in the lounge, eyeing the endless shelves of DVDs.
‘I have never seen so many films in one place,’ she said. ‘Have you seen all of these?’
‘Most of them, I suppose.’
‘And which is your favourite?’
I shrugged again. It seemed to be my default setting and I felt instantly guilty for being so surly. In an attempt to redeem myself, I selected a handful of cases from the wall and handed them to Ade with a weak smile.
‘I have not seen any of these,’ she said, then sighed. ‘Do you want to take them with you?’
‘Yeah, that would be great.’ Although I didn’t feel I deserved to watch them.
She decided that I should take the TV and DVD player from my room with me, that it was important to have as many of my things at Bellfield as possible.
I left her looking at the walls and when I returned five minutes later she was still in the same place.
‘Tell me. What is on these?’ She pointed at a row of unmarked VHS cases that looked clunky next to the DVDs.
‘Home movies,’ I replied. ‘Dad was a sucker for filming everything.’
‘And have you watched them?’
‘No. Most of them were never transferred from video to DVD. Some of them are on super-eight reels as well. Dad had one of those cameras when he was at uni.’
We studied the shelves for a few moments, but I was starting to feel on edge. Ade knew it too.
‘Do you have everything you need for now?’ she asked.
‘I think so.’
‘Then we should be heading back. Don’t worry. Nothing here will be moved and we can come back whenever you feel like it. This is still your home, Daisy. Eventually decisions will have to be made about what happens to it, but you will be involved, I promise you.’
As we headed for the front door, lead filling my boots, I hesitated before flicking the light switch off, and felt something give inside as the button moved beneath my finger. Ade put a consoling arm around my shoulder and ushered me back into the sunshine.
After tossing a large black sack into the bin, she led me to the car and then held up a second carrier bag.
‘I also have this for you.’
I squinted into the sunlight. ‘What is it?’
‘Let’s get moving and you can see for yourself.’
As the house disappeared from sight I turned my attention to the carrier, hoping there wasn’t more bad news hiding in there.
Inside I saw a Ziploc bag on top of a box. I knew immediately what was inside the box. It was the camera Dad had bought me and the thought of it tore me in half. Part of me wanted to toss it out of the window, as it reminded me of how I’d behaved, but at the same time that seemed too easy. Maybe I deserved to have these reminders around me, in my face twenty-four/seven.
I lifted the smaller bag out and rotated it, scanning what was in there.
It was Dad’s things, stuff he must have had in his pockets during the crash. I bit down on my lip, determined to keep both the emotion and the fear tucked away.
There was his wallet, rammed full of tatty receipts, Post-it notes and fifty quid in tens, plus car keys, hankie, a packet of tobacco, cigarette papers and, finally, the gold among the other stuff, his Zippo lighter.
I turned it over in my hands, remembering how he loved it, how he always knew where it was, how he’d panic when he momentarily mislaid it. It was his treasured gift from Mum, something of her that he could always carry with him. And now … well, it was mine, and I knew I’d treat it the same way Dad had.
My hand shook slightly as I reached for the hankie and my heart rate escalated as I panicked at the prospect of flipping out in the confines of the car.
Ade saw my agitation in a flash, and without a word opened the window on my side, allowing a soft breeze to hit my cheek.
It helped but wasn’t enough, so I grabbed the packet of tobacco from the bag and started to roll a cigarette. It wasn’t easy with my hands shaking, but the concentration it took calmed me slightly, forcing my mind elsewhere, away from the fear. The problem was, once it was rolled, the panic would return, so without thinking I rammed the cigarette in my mouth and sparked up the Zippo.
The smoke burned, but with less intensity than yesterday, and after the first couple of frantic drags, the sourness of the taste decreased. It might have been helping me, but Ade wasn’t quite so impressed.
‘I didn’t know you were a smoker.’ She frowned, glancing at me in a way that said, ‘You’re not, are you?’ Then she added, ‘I can see that this morning was difficult, but smoking is not the answer. And it’s not making my car smell good either!’
I shrugged. There was no way I was putting the cigarette out, not if it kept everything at bay.
‘It is fine this time,’ she said, ‘but next time we will stop if you need to smoke, OK?’
‘Fine.’
I was in no rush, so I puffed on, before throwing the butt from the car and leaning my head towards the open window. My mouth tasted dreadful, but I didn’t care. If it helped, then it was good enough for now.
Chapter 27
It was well past two in the afternoon when we got back to Bellfield and I was whacked. Carrying my bag was all I could manage, so it was a relief when Ade grabbed the TV and DVD player. She paced on in front of me while I stumbled behind, wishing my room was on the ground floor.
As we reached the balcony I could see Patrick sat on it, swinging his legs and drawing heavily on his fag. He eyed the stash that Ade was carrying, his eyes narrowing as I approached.
‘Film nights in your room, then, yeah?’
He didn’t say it in a particularly sleazy way, but I felt my shoulders tense at the suggestion. There was no way he was watching anything with me.
Ade saw this and took it as an opportunity to give me a warning of my own.
‘You must not worry too much about Paddy,’ she said, her eyes holding a look I hadn’t seen before. ‘Like everyone here, he is vulnerable, and has lots of things to work through. It would be best to keep your room as your own private space.’ Her face softened a little, not wanting to freak me out. ‘We are here to make you feel safe. You understand that, don’t you?’
I nodded, but I wasn’t worried by Patrick. He wouldn’t be setting foot in our corridor, not without a fight.
My room looked less of a shell with stuff in it, but homely it wasn’t. Ade promised me some money to buy a duvet cover and throws, anything to cheer it up, but there seemed little point. Whenever I looked at the plastic windows I’d know I wasn’t home.
By the time I’d hung up my clothes I was ready to collapse, but Ade had other ideas.
‘No, no, no,’ she chivvied, ‘this is no time for sleep.’
I rolled on to my bed, cocooning myself
in the duvet. ‘Just ten minutes.’
But she wouldn’t have it.
‘Daisy, it will soon be three o’clock.’
‘So?’
‘So that means we have to be downstairs in the lounge.’
‘Why?’
‘Because every day at three we all meet.’
I pulled my head from the duvet. I didn’t like the sound of this.
‘Who’s we?’
‘Everyone. All the others, and whoever is on shift.’
‘I don’t get it.’
‘We will both get it if we are not downstairs in two minutes. Come on!’
And without any warning she yanked the duvet from my back and pulled me to my feet. For a second I thought she was going to give me a fireman’s lift down the stairs, but she settled instead for prodding me down them.
We were the last people into the lounge, but by no means the most miserable there. Naomi and Patrick were sat at opposite ends of the room, wearing the biggest scowls imaginable.
There were four settees in there, saggy old four-seaters, and they had been arranged to form a large square about the size of a boxing ring. I wondered if they’d been set up like that so Naomi and Patrick could go at each other again. I shuddered at the thought.
Jimmy and Susie sat together on one settee, oblivious to the tension simmering between the other two. Jimmy was drumming his fingers against his knees, head bobbing and mouth singing a tune that only he could hear. Susie sat and gazed at him, her own head nodding, trying to pick up the rhythm he was creating.
Not wanting to be too close to any of them, I perched on the arm of the fourth settee. Ade flopped on to the cushion beside me.
No one was talking, not even the two staff members already there, who smiled at me without saying a word. We were obviously waiting for someone or something, but I had no idea what.
After another minute the door opened and a woman strolled in. At first I thought she’d taken a wrong turn, as she wasn’t dressed for this place. She was decked out in a power suit, all lapels and sharp creases.
Everyone sat forward, mouths falling open. And then Jimmy let out a long, slow wolf-whistle, dissolving a lot of the tension hanging in the air.
