Mummy’s Little Girl: A heart-rending story of abuse, innocence and the desperate race to save a lost child

Mummy’s Little Girl: A heart-rending story of abuse, innocence and the desperate race to save a lost child Jane Elliott The moving, unforgettable new novel from the author of the bestselling inspirational memoir ‘The Little Prisoner’Life was never going to be easy for little Dani Sinclair…On a cold winter's night, a heavily pregnant teenage girl appears at a London hospital. She refuses to give her name, and gives birth to a baby girl. But immediately after the birth, she disappears, leaving the baby alone in the hospital. The child, named Dani after the midwife who delivered her, is put up for adoption.Twelve years later Dani is living with a foster family. A vulnerable and unworldly girl, Dani is an inconvenience and always being blamed for things that aren't her fault. After being wrongly accused of performing an act of petty childish spite, Dani is sent to a children's home. The home is full of difficult children, who bully and victimise Dani. Terrified of both the children and the grown-ups, she runs away.Dani spends several nights on the streets of London, begging for food. When a stranger offers her something to eat and a place to sleep, she accepts gratefully. But what she does not know is that this man is a brutal pimp who tries to drag Dani into a violent, drug-fuelled world of prostitution. Soon she is plunged into an unimaginable nightmare of abuse that she truly believes will never end.But there is one person out there searching for Dani; one person who has her best interests at heart; one person who will do anything to save her. It's just a matter of whether she can find her in time… JANE ELLIOTT Mummy’s Little Girl A desperate race to save a lost child Contents Title Page (#ud49c2b73-bd15-5a94-91e8-1a2d0dee3951)Fact (#u1c976fd9-b6d3-575b-ad69-b1ad2af05b2c)Prologue (#ue7304295-d6b9-5bbc-955b-9b48db1bd870)Chapter One (#ud655bf0d-5adc-58ba-a41c-9f6de01e7ea5)Chapter Two (#ua2b79655-c58c-5bdd-b829-48bd2aff0a4c)Chapter Three (#ueb083f7a-d78f-5025-ab3a-1fe680c1b82d)Chapter Four (#uf2755d6a-cf8f-5fc3-89fa-d9cfbd6ce07b)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo) Fact (#ua3115ca2-1b84-5ae3-8a1d-b8f178b968f5) In the UK alone, a child goes missing every five minutes. Some of these children are found; others become the focus of high-profile media campaigns. A few are never seen again. Mummy’s Little Girl Prologue (#ua3115ca2-1b84-5ae3-8a1d-b8f178b968f5) December 1996. London. Evening The pains had started just after lunch – not that mealtimes meant much in her house. Had little Hayley Clark known what the sudden rush of water was, the one that had dampened her sheets in the small hours of the morning, she might have known to expect the contractions sometime soon. But she didn’t. No one had explained it to her. There had been no visits to the doctor; no scans; no midwives to reassure her or tell her what was likely to happen, or when. It would have been unthinkable to wake her mum and admit that her bed was wet and she didn’t know why, just as it would have been unthinkable in the first place to tell her that she thought she was going to have a baby. It had been five months ago that Hayley had realised she was pregnant, a few weeks after she had met the boys who lived at the other end of the estate. She had left the flat out of necessity that summer’s evening – Mum and Dad were shouting at each other, and she didn’t know how it would end. The arguments didn’t always spill over into her tiny bedroom, but they had happened enough times for her to feel scared to the pit of her stomach whenever she heard raised voices. Strangely it was her mum she feared more than her dad in those situations. Dad would just shout at her, telling her she was lazy and ugly and why the hell didn’t she get out there and find some fucking friends, before stumbling into bed to sleep off the cheap booze. Mum, on the other hand, was more physical: she would pull her long, jet-black hair and hit her. One time she had given her a black eye, and Hayley had to pretend to the teachers at school that she’d been in a fight on the way home. Mum would hurl abuse at her too, but unkind words she could deal with. It was the punches that hurt. That night back in the summer, she had sensed it would be in her interests to leave the house. They were drunker than usual, for one thing – it was the time of the month when they had more money, so there was no danger of running out of drink. And she had heard them talking about her. Yelling about her, actually. Hayley was only young, but she knew what that meant, and was smart enough to get out of there before things turned nasty for her. She hadn’t needed a coat – it was a warm evening – and so she slipped out of the flat wearing only the same jeans and T-shirt that she always wore, knowing that Mum and Dad would probably not even hear the door. She walked down the concrete stairwell, avoiding the nasty smell that always made her feel a little bit sick, and emerged at the front of the tower block. It was late, but still just light, and little crowds of people were standing around in cliques. Some of them were smoking, some of them were drinking. A lot of them had music blaring from their car stereos. Hayley didn’t like coming out here by herself, especially at this time of night. During the day there was a police presence, but come nightfall even they knew to steer clear of the estate. When they did show up, they tended to ignore most of what was going on. Cleaning this place up was like pushing sand uphill, Hayley had heard a grown-up say once. It was scary. None of the groups of people seemed to talk to each other; none of them looked as if they dared talk to each other. Hayley walked quickly, with her head down, hoping that she wouldn’t be noticed. Hayley was the sort of girl people didn’t normally notice. But that was about to change. A wolf-whistle filled the air. Hayley felt her stomach lurch and she kept her eyes on the pavement as she continued walking, desperately hoping that the whistle hadn’t been directed at her. Almost immediately, though, it was followed up by the sound of footsteps, and before Hayley knew what was happening, two boys were standing in front of her. They were older than her – seventeen, maybe, or eighteen – and Hayley thought she knew their faces. They were definitely the sort of boys she would go out of her way to avoid, but that wasn’t saying much: Hayley went out of her way to avoid most people. They both wore baggy jeans and hooded tops; the only thing that really made them look different from each other was that one of them had a tooth missing. ‘Where you going?’ the toothless one demanded. He chewed noisily on some gum. Hayley almost automatically looked down at the ground. She said nothing. She could sense the two boys grinning at each other. ‘Going to come and hang with us?’ the other boy said. It didn’t sound much like a question. ‘No thanks,’ she mumbled. But as she spoke, one of them grabbed her arm. She looked around her in alarm, but none of the other groups noticed what was going on; or if they did, they stayed well clear. It was the boy with the full set of teeth who had grabbed her, and his grip was strong. He pulled her over towards where they had been standing, by a car whose four doors were wide open. There were others here, mostly boys, but a couple of girls too, who looked at Hayley with nasty stares. They didn’t say anything, however. ‘Have a drink,’ the toothless boy said to her. He put a bottle of something into her hand. ‘I don’t want to—’ she started to say, her voice trembling slightly. ‘I don’t want to!’ a female voice mimicked from somewhere. Hayley felt her skin flush. ‘Drink it,’ the boy insisted. Hayley had never drunk alcohol before. She’d heard the other children at school talking about it, of course, talking about how they would get drunk on Friday nights, but she wasn’t popular enough to be invited to their parties; and anyway, she was hardly likely to touch the stuff, knowing what sort of effect it had on her mum and dad. But as she stood there that night, with these intimidating people standing round and staring at her, she knew that she couldn’t say no; so she put the bottle timidly to her lips. The mouth of the bottle was already wet from somebody else’s saliva, and it made Hayley shiver with revulsion. She closed her eyes, though, and tipped the bottle up further. The alcohol was incredibly sweet – a bit like the fizzy drinks she occasionally tasted – and to her surprise she found that she quite liked it. Seconds later, however, the kick of the alcohol hit the back of her throat and she started to cough. The others laughed, and Hayley felt her skin suddenly burning with embarrassment. But what happened next surprised even her. Ashamed of her inability to handle the drink, she took another pull at the bottle, two hefty gulps. This time she didn’t cough, and she handed the bottle back to the toothless boy with a tiny look of defiance. The boy looked at his friend with a smile – a smile Hayley could tell meant something, but she didn’t know what. He took a swig at the bottle, and then handed it round. ‘What’s your name, then, gorgeous?’ he said, his accent thick with south London, just like Hayley’s. ‘Hayley.’ That look again. ‘Not seen you around much, Hayley.’ A giggle from one of the group. The alcohol had created a warm feeling in her chest. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘So?’ The boldness of her response astonished her. ‘So … you gonna come with us?’ Hayley’s eyes flickered up towards the top of the tower block and she felt a sudden thrill of rebellion. Mum and Dad probably still didn’t know she’d left; even if they did, they wouldn’t care. ‘All right,’ she said. The boy grinned. He took her by the arm again, but not so roughly this time, and led her away from the group. His friend followed. ‘Where you fucking going?’ a voice screeched. It was one of the girls in the little crowd around the car. They stopped and turned round, and Hayley watched as the girl approached the two boys. She was mixed race, and wore tight clothes against her curves which made Hayley feel like the little girl she was, and her lips and nose were pierced. ‘Fuck you,’ the toothless boy muttered. He pushed her to one side, took Hayley by the arm again and led her off. ‘I’ll be looking out for you, you little bitch!’ the girl called after her, her voice loaded with hate. ‘I’ll be looking out for you!’ Any other time, Hayley would have been petrified; but on that summer’s evening six months previously, with the alcohol doing its work, she felt something different. Carelessness. Recklessness. Whenever she thought back on it, she cringed at her own stupidity. The boys didn’t tell her their names, and she didn’t ask. They led her to a different tower block on the south side of the estate, and into a flat several storeys up. It was a dingy place, but Hayley was used to that – her own home was hardly luxurious. Thick, dirty blankets were pinned up against the windows, and the only light came from a lava lamp on the floor in the corner. There was no furniture – just a few stained mattresses lying here and there, and a selection of blue and green milk crates scattered around instead of chairs. The kitchen area was covered with fast-food packaging, and there was a strange mixture of smells. Rotting food, of course, but also something else. A thick, musty smell. As soon as they were in the flat, the boy without the missing tooth shut the door; then he collapsed on to one of the mattresses and pulled out a pouch of tobacco and some cigarette papers. Hayley watched as he licked the gummed edges of two papers and stuck them together, before sprinkling some tobacco into the middle. He then removed a small lump of something brown and held it in the flame of a lighter before breaking bits off and crumbling them onto the tobacco. He rolled the cigarette up and lit it; instantly Hayley could tell where that sweet smell came from. He took a deep drag on the joint, and then passed it to Hayley. Suddenly timid again, she shook her head. A look of annoyance passed the boy’s face as he handed the joint to his friend. ‘You want another drink?’ he asked Hayley. Not knowing what else to do, Hayley nodded her head. She didn’t see him pour the drink; nor did she question why he was giving it to her in a dirty glass rather than straight out of the bottle as before. She drank it quickly, hoping it would give her more of the warm feeling that it had done when they were outside. ‘Why you looking at me like that?’ she asked the two boys when she had finished it. They were standing, watching her, as if they were waiting for something. She took another sip of her drink, trying her best to look grown-up. It was from that moment that she started to lose her memory. She couldn’t remember what was said between them, or what she did; all she knew was that after a little while a terrible sickness hit her, a nausea that seemed to run through her whole body. She felt dizzy, the blood in her veins ran hot and she lost control of her limbs as she fell to the ground. And falling to the ground was the last thing that she remembered. When she woke up, her head was pounding, as though someone was beating the inside of her skull. But the pain in her head was nothing compared to the shocking, sinister stabbing she felt in her stomach, as though hot knives were slashing into her. She looked down and saw, to her horror and shame, that the bottom half of her body was naked. She was lying on one of the mattresses; the two boys were on the other side of the room, fast asleep. She started to tremble with a mixture of sickness, fear and self-loathing. Slowly she sat up, and as she did so she became aware of streaks of blood down her legs. Her jeans and underwear were lying on the floor near the boys. Wincing with pain, she got to her feet and crept towards them, quiet and terrified, to pick them up. As she started to get dressed, tears came to her eyes; her jeans became tangled as she pulled them on, and the more she struggled, the slower she became. She tried desperately to keep quiet, but she couldn’t help a sudden, loud sob escaping her lips. The toothless boy stirred and drowsily opened his eyes. Hayley froze, her jeans still only halfway up her legs. The boy leered at her, and then pushed himself up to a sitting position. ‘Get over here,’ he said. Hayley felt her body start to shake. She pulled her jeans up over her hips and walked towards him. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down to the floor; she did her best to master another wave of nausea as he took her face roughly in one of his hands. It hurt, and she whimpered. They were face to face now, and she could smell the tobacco on his breath. ‘You can come back here any time, bitch,’ he whispered. ‘But tell anyone and I’ll kill you. Understand?’ Terrified, Hayley nodded her head. ‘Then get the fuck out of here.’ Hayley fled. The sickness lasted for several hours, the discomfort in her belly for a few days; the shame endured for much longer than that. Hayley barely left her bedroom for the whole of the school holidays – she was too scared of seeing either the boys or the girl who had threatened her, and not even the prospect of a beating from her mum was enough to get her to leave the flat. Hayley was not a worldly girl, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew she had been raped that night, probably by both boys. She knew she should tell someone, but there was no one to tell, and anyway, she was scared. Scared of the boys who had done it to her, and scared of what people would think. Much better to forget about it. Pretend it had never happened. Put it from her mind. But that was not possible. When her period was late, she ignored the little voice that nagged inside her head. Hayley was only young, and far from regular; it was nothing to worry about. But a week passed, and then two. She started to feel sick. Of course, she kept it from her mum and dad. Mum especially always reacted badly when she said she felt unwell. She didn’t go to the doctor, and even if she had had the courage to walk into a pharmacy and ask for a pregnancy test, she had no money to buy one. And so the pregnancy progressed. Hayley knew she couldn’t keep it a secret for ever, but nine months was a long time. Maybe by the time the baby was born, something would have changed in her life. But it hadn’t been nine months. Only five, when once again she slipped out of the flat without her mum and dad knowing. The pains were happening every fifteen minutes, and when they came she felt like doubling over in agony. There was no way she would be able to hide this from her mum, so she had to get out of there. It was raining outside, a heavy, cold, persistent rain that saturated her clothes almost immediately. The sun had set, and there was no one outside in this weather – no one to see when Hayley bent over, clutching her belly and crying out. She staggered out of the estate and on to the main road that ran alongside it. There were few pedestrians here, but plenty of cars and buses, their headlamps on as they splashed their way through the rain. If any of them saw the fifteen-year-old girl, stumbling along the puddle-ridden pavement with a look of unabated agony on her face, they didn’t stop to help. Charity Thomson took the lift down from the maternity ward and walked through the clattering corridors of the hospital to the caf? by the entrance on the ground floor. She could get coffee on the ward, of course, but sometimes you just had to get out of there, away from the stress and the urgency and the shouting. Fifteen minutes of time to herself and she would, she knew, be re-energised and ready to bring a few more souls into the world. Charity had been a midwife all her working life – thirty years, near enough. In all that time she had never met a colleague who didn’t have some complaint to make about the job – the conditions, the pay, the hours – but Charity had always loved it. There were difficult days, of course; there were deliveries that went wrong, that ended in heartbreak; and she would never be a rich woman. But on the whole Charity felt blessed to be doing what she was doing. She bought her drink and took a seat on one of the plastic chairs. It was seven in the evening, but the hospital was still busy, and she watched as people rushed in and out of the large main doors – visitors, doctors, patients – all of them creating a throng of activity. Charity sat quietly for five minutes, absorbing it all in a kind of daydream. It was the sight of the girl that brought her back to her senses. She was standing in the doorway, her clothes sopping wet and her matted black hair stuck to the side of her face. She was pale – deathly pale – and she looked around her as though she was completely lost and confused. Then she doubled over, her hands clutching the side of her belly. She stayed like that for perhaps twenty seconds. When she straightened up, she looked so scared that it caught Charity’s breath. Charity had been a midwife for long enough to know what those twenty seconds of agony were. She got to her feet and hurried over to where the girl was standing. ‘Come on, love,’ she said, her voice automatically slipping into the kindly bedside manner she used with all pregnant women. ‘Let’s get you upstairs. Can you walk? Best if you do, eh?’ The girl stared at her as though she hadn’t understood a word. Charity put her arm around the girl’s shoulders and started ushering her in. ‘Look at you,’ she said, carrying on talking brightly. ‘You’re wet through. Sooner we get you out of these clothes and into something dry, the better, eh? Got someone here with you, have you, love? Baby’s father?’ The girl shook her head violently. ‘Mum?’ Again she shook her head. Poor dear, Charity thought. It happened like that sometimes. They walked slowly towards the lift. On the way up to the maternity ward, Charity took a better look at this strange girl with the matted hair and the soaking wet clothes. She seemed young, and her belly was barely swollen. It wasn’t so uncommon for that to happen – you might not even have known she was pregnant if you hadn’t seen the signs – but Charity couldn’t help wondering how far gone she was. ‘How many months, love?’ she asked as the doors hissed open on to the maternity ward. ‘Five,’ the girl replied hesitantly. It was all Charity could do not to let the worry show in her face. She held her security card up to the panel by the entrance door and, when it clicked open, hurried the girl through. ‘What’s your name, love?’ she asked. No reply. ‘How old are you?’ ‘S–seventeen,’ the girl stuttered a bit too quickly. It was obviously a lie, but Charity couldn’t worry too much about that just at the moment. Her job was to look after the girl and deliver a desperately premature baby against the odds. Everything else could wait until later. A nurse was standing at reception. ‘We’re going to need a doctor,’ Charity told her quietly. ‘And make sure there’s room in Special Care.’ The nurse looked at her quizzically. Five months. Charity mouthed the words silently to the nurse, whose expression immediately changed to one of concern. The midwife nodded meaningfully, and then continued to walk with the girl towards the delivery suite. Her patient was shaking violently, and Charity knew she wasn’t far off now. Hayley did not get the chance to hold her baby girl before she was taken away. But she saw her in the hands of the midwife, and she heard the tiny squawk of her little voice. She was so small. So desperately, impossible small – barely larger than the midwife’s hands – and, despite her absolute exhaustion, Hayley felt an overwhelming need to reach out and touch the child. She pushed herself up on to her elbows, but her strength had left her and she could do nothing but look as the baby was placed in a clear Perspex cot and wheeled out of the birthing room. Then the nice midwife was there, standing by her bed and tightly holding her shaking hand. ‘You can see her in a bit, love. She’s very frail, and we need to take her into Special Care and put her on a respirator. You’re going to have to be very brave, but the doctors will do everything they can to give her the best chance.’ Hayley looked up at her with wide eyes, feeling them brim with tears. She was so kind. Nobody was ever that kind to her, and she was glad that her baby was being looked after by people like that. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Now listen, love,’ the midwife continued. ‘I know you’re not really seventeen. No one here is going to judge you or think the worse of you. All we want to do is look after you and make sure that you and your baby are all right. But we need to know your name, and we need to get in touch with your mum and dad to let them know what’s happened. You do have a mum and dad, don’t you, love?’ Hayley nodded. ‘Good girl.’ The midwife squeezed her hand. ‘Now we don’t have to hurry. I’m going to leave you to rest for half an hour. You need anything at all, you press this button here. When I come back, we’ll go down to Special Care to see your baby, and then we’ll fill in all the pieces of paper that we need to. Then we’ll call your mum and dad. Do you want to do it, or shall I?’ Hayley didn’t answer. The midwife squeezed her hand. ‘You think about it, love,’ she said with a reassuring smile. ‘I’ll be back in a bit.’ She squeezed her hand a second time, and then left. Hayley lay there, alone and confused. In the last hour, her world had changed. For months she had been terrified – terrified of what her parents would say and do if they found out the dirty truth about their daughter; terrified of encountering the boys again. Now it was all different. She was still scared, but scared for a different reason. Scared for her baby. Scared of what would happen when she took her home. Scared of the life she would have. As these thoughts ran through her head, Hayley wondered whether this was what it was like to be a grown-up. About five minutes after the midwife had left she summoned up the energy to get out of bed. Her legs felt weak as she steadied herself by the side of her bed, and she was sore from the birth; but she took a couple of tentative steps towards the chair over which her wet clothes had been laid. She took off her stained hospital robes, and with difficulty pulled on the still damp jeans and T-shirt, which were clammy and cold on her skin. Gingerly, she stepped towards the door and out into the corridor. It was almost midnight, but the maternity ward was still buzzing with activity. Mums in labour walked up and down the corridor, some of them pushing drip stands along with them. Harassed hospital workers rushed in and out of rooms. Nobody paid any attention to a young girl walking unobtrusively past the reception desk and out of the main body of the hospital. It was a relief for Hayley when she saw that the rain had stopped. If she’d had the money, she would have taken a bus home, but she didn’t, so there was nothing for it but to walk. It took an hour and a half to get back to the estate, and by the time she got home, her mum and dad were fast asleep. She crept silently into the bathroom, where she removed her clothes before moistening some tissue and using it to wipe away the stubborn streaks of blood from her inner thigh. Then she rolled her clothes up into a little ball, returned to her room, climbed into bed and pulled the blankets tightly around her. As she lay there, waiting for sleep to come, Hayley felt as though a part of her had been torn away. She felt a desperate, gaping emptiness. She felt as though she was no longer whole. Her body ached for the little girl she had only glimpsed for a matter of seconds. Yet what else could she have done? Bring her back here, to this place? At least now her child had a chance – a chance of life in the hands of the kind doctors, and a chance of happiness in the hands of whoever she ended up with. A chance of happiness. If she could give her little girl that, then perhaps she wasn’t so worthless. It wasn’t much to cling on to, but it was something. A chance of happiness. The words echoed around Hayley’s head as she lay there in her little bed until eventually, overcome with exhaustion and emotion, she slipped into a troubled, dream-filled sleep. It was a bit more than half an hour after she’d left Hayley that Charity returned to the girl’s room. She didn’t know why, but somehow she wasn’t surprised to see that she was no longer there. She felt a pang. On some level, she had hoped that maybe she had been getting through to the girl, but now she realised how thoughtless she had been to leave her alone. If anyone needed help, company and security, it was the frightened little thing who had given birth in that room less than an hour ago. She sighed. There were procedures in place for this kind of event. Charity immediately informed hospital security what had happened; then the police were called. There would be statements and interviews in due course, but Charity knew it would all be in vain – the girl had not given any information about herself, not even her name. The midwife found herself wondering whether she had come into the hospital intending to abandon her child, but she soon brushed away that thought. Chances were that the girl didn’t even know herself. Chances were that she was too scared even to get her childish thoughts together. Charity did everything that was required of her in a kind of daze. Her shift was supposed to end at midnight, but it was past two o’clock by the time it was all done. Even then, tired though she was, she didn’t leave for home. There was something she wanted to do first. She slipped down to the shop on the ground floor. It was empty, apart from the bored, pimply young man behind the counter. Charity couldn’t afford much, so she chose the smallest toy she could – a little pink and blue teddy bear, not much bigger than her hand. She paid for it, and then headed back to the maternity suite. It was never easy going into the Special Care Baby Unit, but tonight’s trip was more difficult than most. She walked into the observation room and saw them lined up, those fragile little bundles of life. There were seven of them tonight, all lying in their sterile incubators, their stillness giving no clue to the desperate struggle each of them was making for their very existence. The little girl the midwife had delivered lay at the end of the row. She was the smallest of them all, and she lay so still that had it not been for the regular pinging of the heart monitor by her side, you might never have known she was alive. A feeding tube had been inserted into her impossibly tiny nose, and a little oxygen mask covered her face. The baby was bathed in the glow of ultra-violet light to prevent jaundice. How long Charity stood and stared at the child she could not have said. Eventually, though, she was awakened from her dream-like state by a voice. ‘You should go home.’ She turned around. One of the doctors was standing just by her, a quietly spoken Asian man by the name of Sunil, whom she had always found to be very friendly. ‘I just wanted to see how she was getting on,’ she said quietly. Sunil nodded and gave a sad little smile. ‘Too early to say.’ Charity was pleased that he didn’t offer any platitudes – they both knew that the baby’s life hung in the balance, and it would have been disrespectful of him to pretend that wasn’t the case. ‘Is this the one?’ he asked. ‘The one whose mother left?’ The midwife nodded. ‘Did you deliver her?’ ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Well then,’ Sunil continued, ‘as her mother is not here to give her a name, I think she should be named after the person whose hands brought her into the world, don’t you?’ The midwife blinked, and was surprised to feel tears in her eyes. She turned back to the incubator. ‘Charity,’ she breathed, and then shook her head. No. It wasn’t right. ‘I don’t think so,’ she told the doctor. ‘This little girl will need enough charity in her life as it is.’ The doctor shrugged. ‘That’s true,’ he said. ‘But she needs a name. I think you should choose it.’ Charity’s eyes misted over. ‘I was pregnant once,’ she said. ‘Oh, I lost the child. But that didn’t stop me giving it a name.’ She smiled. ‘Dani. That’s what we’ll call her.’ Sunil put his hand on her shoulder, and then left the observation room. The midwife knew that she too should leave soon, but she allowed herself a couple more minutes with the little girl. It didn’t seem right just to leave her. On a whim, she stepped out of the observation room and, checking to see that no one was watching, walked into the Special Care ward itself and up to the little girl’s Perspex cot. She lay the soft toy she had bought on the clear cover – no doubt it would be removed by a doctor, but she didn’t know what else to do with it. It lay there as floppy and seemingly lifeless as the baby herself. ‘Just get through this, my little love,’ she found herself whispering to the child. ‘Just get through this. Nothing you’ll ever have to do in your life will be nearly as hard if you can just get through this.’ She drew a deep breath and did her best to steady the emotion that was suddenly threatening to overcome her. ‘Keep fighting, little Dani,’ she breathed. She did her best to smile at the baby, who didn’t even know she was there; then she turned and left the ward, closing the door quietly behind her. Chapter One (#ua3115ca2-1b84-5ae3-8a1d-b8f178b968f5) Twelve years later Dani Sinclair heard the bell go for morning break. All around her, her classmates scuffed their chairs back and started talking. The teacher at the front of the class – Mr Wynn – called out something, but it was lost in the hubbub of noise as everyone hurried out excitedly for breaktime. Everybody except Dani. Nobody stopped to run out to the playground with her. Nobody called to her, or smiled at her, or paid her any attention at all. And for that, Dani was pleased. When the other children did pay attention to her, it wasn’t the kind of attention she wanted. She was the last to leave the classroom, and Mr Wynn hurried her on. ‘Come on, Dani,’ he said impatiently. ‘Outside for break-time, please.’ Dani nodded timidly and left the classroom; Mr Wynn followed her out into the playground. It was a clear winter’s day, cold enough for the raw chill of the air to burn Dani’s bare legs. Her school skirt was short, not as a fashion statement, but because her mum – her foster mum, actually – had not bought her any new clothes for ages. All her school mates seemed to have new trainers every other week, and they certainly noticed that Dani was not as well dressed as them. It was one of the many things that they used to pick on her. She skirted round the edge of the playground, trying to make it look as if she was busy doing something when in fact she was just wandering aimlessly. As she passed certain groups of kids, they shouted names at her, but she was so used to them doing so that she hardly heard them. Dani had been wandering for perhaps five minutes when they stopped her. Ashley and Tammy were the two most popular girls in the class. They had long hair and wore perfume and make-up, even though you weren’t supposed to at school. It made them look much older than their twelve years, and it also put them on a different side of the playground to Dani, who never had anything to make her look pretty. Ashley and Tammy were mean girls. They were always picking on Dani, always teasing her for being so quiet, always trying to get her to say dirty words she didn’t want to say. They made her cry on an almost daily basis, and she hated it when they turned their attention to her. Dani tried to carry on walking, to get away from the potential confrontation, but they weren’t having it. Tammy wolf-whistled at her, and Ashley stepped forwards and grabbed hold of the hem of her skirt, pulling it up and down so that it billowed. From somewhere else, Dani heard the sound of other children laughing, and she felt blood rise to the skin of her face. ‘What you doing, Sinclair? Going on the pull?’ Ashley called. Embarrassed, Dani looked down at the ground and carried on trying to walk away; but the girls kept following her. ‘Don’t think there’s anyone fancies you much round here,’ Tammy added. ‘Shut up,’ Dani retorted from behind clenched teeth. It wasn’t like her to answer back. The other girls knew it and they jeered. Ashley went for the skirt again. This time, Dani swung round and lashed out at the other girl. It was a pitiful sight – Dani was no fighter, and the other two were good at it. Immediately they piled in, pushing Dani to the ground and pulling at her hair. Dani wanted to fight back, but she was not good at this sort of thing, and she curled up into a little ball as a crowd gathered round to watch the entertainment. There were shouts of encouragement as the girls started punching her curled-up body. Dani was in no doubt about who they all wanted to win the fight. ‘Fucking cry-baby,’ Ashley shouted gleefully when she noticed the hot tears that had suddenly started to stream down Dani’s face. And then again, in a sing-song voice, slightly babyish but all the more aggressive for that: ‘Fucking cry-baby …’ ‘All right, you three. That’s enough!’ a man’s voice barked from nearby. Dani looked up to see Mr Wynn, his green eyes flashing angrily. ‘I said, that’s enough!’ The scratching and clawing stopped. Humiliated at being the only one still on the ground, Dani pushed herself up. ‘That’s not the first time I’ve seen you three fighting,’ Mr Wynn said severely. ‘I don’t expect to see it happening again.’ Dani looked wide-eyed at him, smarting from the injustice of it. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Miss Sinclair,’ Mr Wynn snapped. ‘I won’t have any fighting in the playground while I’m on duty. Is that understood?’ Dani felt herself nodding. ‘Yes, sir,’ she said quietly. ‘Ashley? Tammy?’ ‘Yes, sir,’ they replied in unison, their voices chanting almost sarcastically. ‘Good.’ Mr Wynn nodded his head decisively, and then turned and walked to the other end of the playground. With his back to them, he did not see the spiteful little smile that Ashley and Tammy cast in Dani’s direction. It was late on Friday evening, and there were three people in the meeting: Kate Swinton, a tall, curly-haired social worker with a thin face and kind eyes; Andy Martin, also a social worker – a young man with a shaved head to hide the fact that he was balding; and Alice Gray, a fair bit older than the other two, their line manager. It had been a long afternoon, and their meeting had overrun. All three of them were looking forward to getting out of the bland room in the council offices and going home. But there was a final case to get through before that could happen. ‘All right,’ Alice said with a sigh of relief. ‘Last one.’ She looked at the agenda on the table in front of her. ‘One of yours, I think, Kate?’ Kate Swinton nodded. ‘Dani Sinclair. Twelve years old. I’ve mentioned her to you once or twice before.’ Alice smiled. ‘Sorry, Kate,’ she said. ‘Heavy caseload. You’ll have to refresh my memory.’ Kate pulled a file out from a little pile by her side. ‘She’s only come my way in the last couple of years. Before that we had no reason to become involved. She was placed with a foster family at birth, a couple in south-west London. Two younger siblings, but neither of them fostered.’ ‘Unusual,’ Andy butted in. ‘Mmm,’ Kate replied. ‘I spoke to the mother about it. They tried to conceive naturally for a long time before they fostered, and she fell pregnant soon afterwards.’ ‘Sod’s law.’ ‘Quite.’ ‘Come on,’ their line manager said briskly. ‘Let’s wrap this up. What’s the problem with the child?’ ‘Difficult to say,’ Kate told her. ‘On the surface of it, nothing – at least nothing that I can detect. She’s very quiet, and by all accounts finds it difficult to make friends. Young for her age, I’d say – not as streetwise as a lot of the kids we see nowadays. But that’s really nothing out of the ordinary – nothing that would require our intervention. It’s the mother who’s more of a worry. Her husband left the family home two years ago as a result of an affair, and he hasn’t been back since. Divorce is only just coming through now, but he’s not paying any maintenance, and the CSA being what it is …’ Alice rolled her eyes. ‘Exactly,’ Kate said. ‘Anyway, unusually it was the mother who got in touch with us. Her husband leaving hit her pretty hard, I think. She told me that it was getting more and more difficult to look after the three children, and she didn’t think she could continue fostering Dani.’ Both Alice and Andy blinked. ‘How old did you say the girl was again?’ ‘Twelve.’ ‘And she’s lived with the foster mother all her life?’ Kate nodded. Alice shook her head. ‘Some people—’ she muttered. ‘Are you trying to tell me she’s requesting that the girl be reassigned?’ ‘I’m afraid so.’ ‘Has she given you any reason, other than not being able to cope? Any real reason, I mean?’ ‘Yes. She’s complaining that the child is showing signs of becoming violent.’ ‘Violent?’ ‘Getting into fights at school, attacking the other two children at home.’ ‘Have you spoken to the school about it?’ ‘Yes.’ Kate pulled a piece of paper out of her file and glanced at it. ‘I spoke to a Gina Sawyer, her class teacher. She seemed very surprised by the suggestion that Dani was aggressive. My understanding is that Dani Sinclair does get into scrapes, but they’re not of her own making.’ ‘Bullying?’ Kate shrugged slightly. ‘Her teacher didn’t use that word, but that’s what it sounded like to me.’ Alice frowned. ‘Poor little thing. What’s your take on it?’ Kate took a deep breath. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘the mother’s approached us, so we have to follow it up. I don’t think there’s any doubt that she’s finding things tough. Money’s obviously tighter than it used to be, which doesn’t help matters. But in my view, moving the child from her family home would be deeply traumatic, especially if she’s having difficulty at school. I think it should be avoided.’ ‘I’m assuming you have no reason to believe the child is in danger. No signs of abuse?’ Kate shook her head. ‘As I say, she’s a very retiring kind of girl. It’s difficult to get much out of her. I wouldn’t say she’s the happiest child I’ve ever met, but no, I wouldn’t say she’s demonstrating any of the warning signs.’ ‘Do you think we need a supervision order?’ ‘I’d say it’s early days for that.’ ‘OK.’ Alice looked at Kate and Andy. ‘Kate, you need to keep tabs on the family – keep an eye out for any deterioration. But are we agreed that it’s in the child’s best interest for her to stay where she is?’ ‘Absolutely,’ the two social workers said in unison. ‘Good.’ Alice smiled at them. ‘Well, I guess that wraps everything up.’ She scraped her chair back and stood up. ‘Have a good weekend, you two. I’ll see you both on Monday.’ Dani Sinclair had dark brown hair, pale skin and clear brown eyes. She was small for her age, though close up you could tell that she was almost a teenager. When she cried, the tears would collect in her lower lids like water swelling against a dam; but the dam would eventually break, and the tears would suddenly wet her cheeks profusely. It happened a lot. Dani was a tearful little girl, not robust like some children, and she found it difficult to stop herself from crying when she started to feel the tears coming. She felt them coming now as she sat at the meal table with the two younger ones. It was fish fingers for tea. Dani didn’t really like fish fingers – didn’t like the way the fish oozed a kind of milky sap against the orange breadcrumbs when they were warm. But she never said so because the other two – James and Rebecca – loved them. Instead, she pushed the little pieces around her plate, occasionally summoning up the courage to eat a mouthful. She knew that they just got worse as they grew colder, but that didn’t make it any easier to eat them up when they were hot. At the other side of the small kitchen, their mum clattered around at the sink. Dani would be in trouble when her mum saw that she had barely eaten any of the food, and that thought spurred her on a bit. She stuck her fork into a piece of fish finger, put it in her mouth, chewed and swallowed. She shivered as the food went down. ‘Finished!’ Rebecca shouted loudly. ‘Me too!’ James chimed in. Their mum turned from the sink, suds dripping from the yellow washing-up gloves she was wearing. She walked to the table and picked up the two empty plates, before looking down at Dani’s. Dani returned the look and steeled herself for what was to come. ‘You’re a fussy little beggar, Dani,’ she snapped. ‘Why can’t you eat the food I give you? Why can’t you be more like your brother and sister?’ Dani kept quiet, and endured the smug stares coming from the younger children. ‘Go on,’ her mum said waspishly. ‘I’m sick of the sight of you. Go to your room.’ Silently Dani got down from the table, left the kitchen and trudged up the stairs. ‘And when your Auntie Rose comes round, you make sure you don’t have that surly bloody look on your face!’ Mum’s voice carried up the stairs. ‘Dani never eats her dinner, does she, Mum?’ she heard Rebecca saying from the kitchen. ‘Shut up, Rebecca,’ the little girl was told. Mum wasn’t her real mum. Dani had known that for as long as she could remember. But she hadn’t always been like this. In Dani’s earliest memories, things had been happier. There had been a man in the house, for one thing – the man she called Daddy. He had been kind to the children, and to Dani in particular. One day, however, he wasn’t there any more. Dani asked any number of times where her Daddy had gone, but she never received a straight answer from her mum. It was left to her to piece things together from half-heard conversations between grown-ups not intended for her ears. Conversations about things she didn’t really understand. Dani opened the door to her bedroom. The other two children shared a room, but having a room to herself was not intended as a treat for Dani – she knew that well enough. It was because Rebecca would rather share with James than with her. Their room was nice and big; Dani’s was tiny, with room for only a small single bed and an old chest of drawers. But she didn’t mind. No one ever really disturbed her in here. It was the one place she could go and be sure of being by herself. She sat on the bed, hugged her knees and rested her head against the wall. The wallpaper was pink; her dad had put it up for her before he left and nowit was looking a bit old and tatty – in one corner it was coming away from the wall. There wasn’t any point mentioning it to Mum, of course, any more than it was worth mentioning the trouble she’d had at school that day. She would probably just shout at her, so she kept quiet about it. Downstairs, she heard the television being switched on. Dani would have liked to have gone down to watch it with the others, but she chose not to – not with Mum in the mood she was in. Much better, she had learned, to keep herself to herself. She put her thumb in her mouth, closed her eyes and gently rocked herself. It would be bedtime soon. Bedtime was all right. When the lights were out, she could lose herself in her own little world and pretend things were better than they really were. In truth, she knew, they could hardly be worse. It had been several months ago that Mum had first told her she didn’t want Dani to live with them any more. Her words rang in the little girl’s head more clearly than anything anyone had ever said to her. At first she had persuaded herself that it was just a joke, that she didn’t really mean it; but when she kept repeating it in moments of anger, Dani wasn’t so sure. The arrival of the social worker had confirmed it for her. She was a nice lady called Kate, who had come to talk first to Mum and then to Dani herself. The grown-ups didn’t know that Dani had listened in on their conversation, however; they didn’t know she had heard her mum beg the social worker to take her away. ‘I can’t cope with her any more,’ Mum had said. ‘She’s going off the rails, always fighting other kids and bullying her brother and sister.’ Dani had blinked. She didn’t recognise herself in that description at all. But she knew that she would have to try very hard to make her mum want her again. It was difficult, though. Dani never seemed to be able to do anything right. Anything at all. She was always being shouted at, complained about. One time, Mum had even hit her – not hard, but hard enough to bring those tears to her eyes that always seemed to enrage her mother even more. The very thought of it made her want to cry now. She was woken from her reverie by the ringing of the doorbell and a little fluttering of apprehension in her stomach. That would be Auntie Rose. Dani couldn’t decide what to do. If she stayed here in her bedroom, she would be told off and accused of being unfriendly; but if she went downstairs, no doubt they would find something to complain about. Dani sat still, paralysed by indecision for a few minutes, before finally deciding to leave the safety of her bedroom and venture back downstairs. She grabbed the little pink and blue teddy bear – the one that had been hers ever since she was a baby, which was now worn and tatty and was still deeply loved – and went down. At first, nobody noticed her standing in the doorway of the front room. Mum was in the kitchen, for a start, while James and Rebecca stood around Auntie Rose. Dani’s aunt – her mum’s sister – was a chubby lady. In her private moments, Dani had always thought that she looked a bit like a toad – a fat, poisonous toad with jowly cheeks and flat eyes that would sit there, hardly moving, waiting to be fed. She looked particularly toad-like today, sitting on the comfortable sofa with a wide, indulgent smile on her face. In her hands there was a large, dark green plastic bag. Not the sort of plastic bag Mum brought back from the supermarket: this was thicker and altogether more exciting – you could tell just by looking at it that it contained something more fun than food shopping. James and Rebecca could tell that too. They stood excitedly on tiptoes, waiting to see what their aunt had brought them. James’s present came out first – a shiny metal car in a bright yellow box. ‘Thank you, Auntie Rose,’ he gabbled automatically, before taking his gift off to a corner of the room to unwrap it further. Meanwhile, Auntie Rose was removing something else from the bag. Rebecca looked a little crestfallen when she saw what it was: a magic wand, with a star at one end and a little button at the other. She pressed the button and the wand lit up, a sparkling golden colour. There was a tiara too, which Auntie Rose placed on Rebecca’s head before pinching her affectionately on the cheek. ‘Auntie Rose,’ Rebecca said in a quiet, whingey voice. ‘I’m too old for toys like that. I’m not a baby.’ Auntie Rose bristled slightly, and looked as if she was about to tell Rebecca off for her ingratitude; but at that moment she noticed Dani, and the indulgent smile fell from her face. ‘Dani,’ she said abruptly, as though greeting a grown-up she didn’t like very much. Her voice was lower than that of most of the women Dani knew. ‘Hello, Auntie Rose,’ Dani replied politely. She glanced at Rebecca’s glowing wand and the plastic bag. She didn’t really expect there to be anything in it for her, but she couldn’t help feeling a whisper of hope. Auntie Rose looked away. ‘You’re too old for toys like that, Dani,’ she said by way of explanation that the bag was empty. Dani felt a tiny crush of disappointment. In her mind she searched for the words to explain that Rebecca was only a year younger than her; but it wasn’t in her nature to answer back, and anyway, before she could say anything, she felt her mum pushing past her into the front room. ‘You spoil them, Rose,’ she said perfunctorily. ‘They’ve got enough toys as it is.’ She handed her sister one of the glasses of wine she was carrying, and then took a hearty swig from her own. ‘I like to spoil them, Tess,’ Auntie Rose replied. She also took a sip from her wine, and the awkwardness with Dani seemed to be immediately forgotten as they started chatting. Unobserved, Dani took a step backwards, and then silently climbed back upstairs to the refuge of her bedroom. It had always been like this. Even before Dad left, Dani had always felt second best. Mum made no secret about it – about the fact that after Rebecca and James came along, she had wanted Dani to move somewhere else. It was Dad who had insisted on her staying, but now he had left. ‘Run off’ was the phrase everyone used. And since then, Mum had seemed increasingly bitter towards the little girl, as though she had been left with a burden she had long since lost interest in but couldn’t get rid of. It was just the way things were. But that didn’t stop it hurting every time she was left out. It didn’t stop the little surge of embarrassment and shame coming to her cheeks. It didn’t stop her from almost crying. She was almost crying now, as she sat once more on her bed, waiting for night-time to come. Half an hour later, perhaps a little more, she heard James and Rebecca traipsing upstairs. There was a time when Dani would be in charge of making sure they brushed their teeth and washed their faces, but that time was long gone – there was no way her siblings would ever put up with being bossed around by Dani now. And so she waited, listening for the sounds of them getting ready for bed to die away. Eventually she heard footsteps up the stairs – not the fast, impatient footsteps of her mum but the more plodding gait of Auntie Rose. She listened as the footsteps went into James and Rebecca’s room. It sounded as if she was going to read them a story. Stories were a bit babyish, she knew. Still, for a moment Dani considered knocking on their door and asking if she could listen too, just for a bit of company. Just to feel as if she was part of things. But she soon discarded that thought. They probably wouldn’t say no, but it would still be clear to everyone – her included – that she wasn’t really welcome there. No, there wouldn’t be a story for Dani tonight. There hadn’t been a story for her since the night her dad had left. A few minutes passed, and eventually Dani heard Auntie Rose going back downstairs again. She would be staying until late in the evening, drinking wine with Mum until they both became drunk and noisy. Dad never liked Mum drinking alcohol, but she did it more and more now, as if she was punishing him for going off like that, proving that she could have a nice time without him. But it never really seemed to Dani that she was having a nice time – not if the way her mood got even worse the morning after was anything to go by. Dani gave it a few more minutes before deciding to go and brush her teeth and get ready for bed herself. It was dark outside now, and the landing light had been switched off. Rebecca’s wand caught Dani’s eye the moment she stepped out of her bedroom door. It was lying on the floor, discarded but still switched on, its glow bathing the landing in a soft, golden light. To Dani’s young eyes, it looked like some kind of treasure, and she found herself walking almost automatically towards it. She knelt down and gingerly picked it up. It was such a beautiful thing, she thought. She couldn’t understand why Rebecca hadn’t liked it, why she had just left it lying there. If it had been Dani’s, she would have taken better care of it; she would have put it somewhere special in her room and made sure it could not get damaged by accident. She longed to take it to bed with her, keeping it switched on under the covers so that everything would be suffused with its magical light. Gently, Dani switched if off and then on again; off and on. She waved it in the air, drawing an elegant curve as she whispered something under her breath – a magic spell in an invented language. How the others in her class at school would laugh at her if they saw her doing this – Dani was always going off in her own little world, and being teased for doing so. ‘What you doing with my toy?’ Dani jumped, and looked guiltily over her shoulder. Rebecca was standing there in her nightdress, an accusing look on her face. ‘Nothing. Nothing … I was just—’ ‘Give it here.’ Dani’s foster sister lashed her arm out and grabbed the other end of the wand. It happened in a split second – the golden star at the end broke off in Rebecca’s hand, and the light was immediately extinguished, plunging the landing into a semi-darkness that was broken only by the light from the hallway downstairs. For a moment the two girls looked in silent horror at the broken toy, and Dani felt a twist of apprehension in the pit of her stomach. She knew what was coming. Sure enough, her ears were suddenly filled with the sound of Rebecca’s wailing scream. ‘Mum! Mum! Look what she’s done now, Mum!’ Then she threw the piece of the wand that was in her hand down to where Dani was kneeling. Dani froze as she heard the sound of footsteps rushing up the stairs. The landing light was turned on and there she was, Dani’s foster mother, looking down on her as she held half the broken toy in her hand. In her little mind, time seemed to stand still. Then the air was full of screaming. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Dani’s tongue seemed to stick in her throat, and her body started to shake as she tried to catch her breath. ‘I didn’t …’ she whispered. Then Rebecca was screaming too. ‘She broke it! She broke my wand! It was her – I saw her do it!’ Suddenly Auntie Rose was there, wrapping Rebecca in her arms and whispering soothing words to her. Dani’s mum, however, had grabbed Dani by the arm and pulled her to her feet. ‘Get to your room,’ she hissed, and she pushed the little girl along the landing and through the door, slamming it closed so that the two of them were shut in there. Dani thought she could smell wine on her. ‘I’m sick of you!’ her mum blazed. ‘You haven’t got a fucking idea, have you? What it’s like.’ Dani was sobbing uncontrollably, great heaving sobs shaking through her whole body. She desperately wanted to explain to her mum that she hadn’t broken Rebecca’s toy, that she wouldn’t, but the words would not form in her mouth. The little girl’s sobs seemed only to enrage her foster mother even more. ‘What have you got to say for yourself? What have you got to say for yourself?’ She didn’t answer, and her silence seemed to push the woman over the edge. It seemed to happen in slow motion as she raised her hand and brought it down with a surprising, shocking force against the side of Dani’s face. She started to fall towards her bed, and as she did so, her ankle twisted, as did her body. With a sharp, sickening bang, her face fell against the corner of her chest of drawers. The thud seemed to go all through her as she continued falling to the floor, and within a few seconds she felt a burning, stinging sensation creep over her skin. She looked up at her mum, who was standing above her, eyes blazing. She seemed surprised by what she had just done, but not, Dani thought, sorry. ‘I wish we’d never set eyes on you,’ her mum hissed, and Dani thought she could detect a slurring in her voice. ‘It was him that insisted on taking you in. Him. Twelve years, and never a word of thanks for what I’ve done. And how dare you go around breaking my daughter’s toys? How fucking dare you?’ Dani just stared at her, wide-eyed. ‘You’re an arrogant little cow,’ her mum said, delivering a parting shot before turning round, leaving the room and slamming the door behind her. Dani stayed on the floor for several minutes, her hand pressed painfully to the side of her face that her mum had hit with such sudden violence, tears welling in her eyes. There was the murmur of voices on the landing – Auntie Rose calming Mum down – but no one came to Dani’s room. Noone came to check that she was all right. Dani didn’t clean her teeth that night or wash her face. She just removed her clothes, switched off the light and climbed into bed. She wept for a long time, being sure not to make too much noise about it. After all, she had created enough trouble for one day. Chapter Two (#ua3115ca2-1b84-5ae3-8a1d-b8f178b968f5) The following morning was Sunday, and everything was unusually quiet in the house. Dani woke with a throbbing pain on the side of her face. In her chest of drawers was a hand mirror. She took it out and had a look at herself. The bruising was a mottled purple-black. It surrounded her left eye and went down the side of her face. Gently she touched her skin with her fingertips and winced. It was terribly sore, even to the lightest touch. Her arm was sore too, where Mum had grabbed it to drag her into the room. Dani peeled away the material of her nightie and saw bruising there too. She gazed at herself in the mirror for what seemed like an age before mustering the courage to go downstairs. James and Rebecca were already there, watching television in the front room. They knew not to have it on too loud in case it woke Mum up. As Dani appeared in the door, they both turned to look at her. Their stares said it all. ‘You all right?’ James said in a small voice. Dani nodded, and gave the boy a little smile. He looked frightened, and she didn’t want him to be. Then she turned to Rebecca. ‘I never broke your toy,’ she said, doing her best not to let herself cry. Rebecca didn’t reply. Her lips went a little bit thin, her eyes narrowed and she turned resolutely back to the television, as if she was doing her best to pretend Dani wasn’t even there. Dani left them to it and went to the kitchen. The place was a mess. There were two empty bottles of wine on the side, and an overflowing ashtray that smelled so bad it made Dani want to be sick. Dani took the cardboard wrappers from the microwave meals Mum and Auntie Rose had obviously had for their dinner and tried to put them in the bin; but it was full to overflowing, and she couldn’t get them in, even by pushing the other rubbish down hard. So she left it where it was, her attempt to stop her mum being even more angry with her ending before it had really begun, and went back up to her bedroom. It was at least an hour before she heard her mum getting up. Dani didn’t know whether she was scared that she might come into her room, or whether she hoped she would. Either way, it didn’t matter. She listened to the sound of her getting ready in the bathroom and stomping down the stairs. Minutes later the front door slammed shut. By lunchtime she hadn’t returned, so Dani made sandwiches for them all. James and Rebecca seemed unable to look at her bruised face as she handed them over, and she took her own lunch up to her room and ate it there. All afternoon, Dani stayed in her room, occasionally looking at herself in the mirror. Mum didn’t return until evening. She didn’t come and see Dani, who went without any dinner and spent a broken, fitful night worrying about what people would say when they saw her at school the next day. Miss Sawyer was late, and she broke her own rule by running down the corridor towards her classroom, her register and other school books clasped tightly to her chest. God only knows, she thought to herself, what bedlam the kids were creating. She knew from experience that the lesson would be a write-off – let them run riot in the first few minutes and they’d never calm down. What a way to start Monday morning! She glanced at her watch. Five past nine. ‘Shit,’ she muttered, and she upped her pace slightly. Gina Sawyer’s classroom was at the far corner of the school, so it took a while to get there. It was a big school, with a huge catchment area that covered some of the biggest, most sprawling estates in the area as well as more well-to-do parts of town. She had worked there getting on for ten years now, and although some days seemed like a struggle, she was honest enough with herself to admit that she thrived on it. That said, there was no doubt that things were getting tougher nowadays. Some of the kids they had to deal with barely seemed like kids at all: they were so full of anger, so well versed in the world of adults. More than once, children who Miss Sawyer knew when they were only small had been excluded for carrying knives; and she’d lost count of the number of teenage pregnancies she’d had to deal with in her additional role as child support officer. By rights she was an English teacher, but the truth was that the teaching bit of the job was something that she seldom got to do. Miss Sawyer was out of breath as she turned into the corridor where her classroom was located, so she slowed her run down to a brisk walk. Just ahead of her, walking a good deal more slowly in the same direction, was a pupil. Miss Sawyer recognised her immediately, even from behind – recognised the long, black hair and the slightly battered book bag that was slung sloppily over her shoulder. ‘Come on, Dani,’ she said, doing her best to hide her breathlessness. ‘Chop chop. The bell went five minutes ago.’ Little Dani Sinclair was a funny one. Twelve years old, but to look at her you wouldn’t think she was more than nine or ten. The teacher supposed that the girl had a working vocabulary, but if she did then it was seldom given an outing. In all her years teaching she had never come across such a quiet child. Hardly surprising that she was often picked on, because she never fought back. She just wasn’t that kind of girl. It had only been a few days earlier that a social worker had come into the school to talk about Dani. There had been reports, the woman had said, of the little girl starting fights. Had the social worker not been so earnest, Miss Sawyer would have found the idea almost comical. Dani Sinclair would no more be involved in that sort of thing than stand in the middle of the playground reciting Shakespeare. She had respectfully put the social worker’s mind at rest and promised she would keep a special eye on Dani. The little girl stopped walking, and Miss Sawyer noticed from behind that she appeared to lower her head and move her hand up to the side of her face, as though hiding it. ‘Dani?’ she asked. ‘Are you all right? What’s the matter?’ The little girl didn’t answer. Miss Sawyer took a couple of steps towards her; then she bent over so that she was more on Dani’s level and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. The girl immediately shrugged her away, suddenly, as though she had been burned. She walked towards the wall and kept her face covered. ‘Dani Sinclair,’ Miss Sawyer said a bit more sharply than she intended. ‘I really don’t think it’s at all appropriate for you to behave towards your teach—’ She stopped. The moment she had raised her voice, the little girl had seemed to jump. Her arm fell limply to her side and she slowly turned round and faced the teacher. It was that look that had stopped Miss Sawyer in her tracks. One of Dani’s eyes was almost closed. The lids were swollen and black, and the bruising extended all the way down one side of her face. A twitch of embarrassment flickered over the side of her face that wasn’t bruised, and Miss Sawyer noticed that she avoided looking her teacher in the eye. ‘Oh my God,’ she whispered. ‘Dani, what happened to you?’ Dani’s face twitched again, but she didn’t say anything. From down the corridor, Miss Sawyer became aware of the sound of her class, boisterous as she expected. She looked over in that direction, slightly panicking that if she didn’t go now and sort them out, they’d just go from bad to worse. But another quick look at Dani’s face reminded her that she had a more important duty now. ‘Come with me, Dani, love,’ she said, as kindly as she could. She offered the child her hand, but Dani declined to take it. She just followed slowly, her feet dragging, as Miss Sawyer led her to the office where she dealt with child protection issues. It was a small office, cosy in its way. There was a wooden desk and a comfortable chair, which seemed to dwarf Dani as she sat in it. ‘Would you like a glass of orange, Dani?’ Miss Sawyer offered. Dani shook her head. ‘What about a biscuit? I think I’ve got some chocolate ones somewhere.’ Another shake of the head. ‘OK,’ Miss Sawyer said quietly as she took her seat behind the desk. She couldn’t remember a pupil ever turning down drinks and biscuits during school hours, but then she had to remind herself that Dani had always been a bit more timid than most. ‘Now then, Dani, why don’t you tell me how you got the black eye?’ The child didn’t answer. She just looked down at the floor. ‘Dani, love, you won’t get into trouble for just telling me who it was. We can make sure it doesn’t happen again.’ ‘No one did it,’ the girl replied quickly. She looked scared. Miss Sawyer narrowed her eyes. ‘What do you mean, no one did it?’ Dani looked around the office, confusion in her face. ‘I mean – I mean … It was me.’ ‘You?’ ‘I got in a fight. On the way to school.’ Still she refused to catch Miss Sawyer’s eyes. ‘A fight? When?’ ‘This morning.’ ‘Who with?’ ‘Some boys.’ ‘Which boys, Dani? Why don’t you tell me?’ A look of desperate concentration passed across Dani’s bruised face, and she shook her head. Miss Sawyer sighed. It was so often the way: kids getting beaten up and refusing to admit who it was. The unwritten code of silence was stronger in the school than she imagined it was in any prison. Even so, something wasn’t right. It took a while for bruises to come up like that. Whatever had happened to the little girl hadn’t happened just this morning. ‘Are you sure you’re telling the truth, Dani? You can tell me, you know. You won’t get in trouble.’ ‘I am!’ The girl’s voice was uncharacteristically firm. Miss Sawyer sighed. She knew there was more to this than met the eye, but what could she do? ‘All right, Dani,’ she said in a resigned tone of voice. ‘I can’t make you tell me. But if you decide you want to, you only have to say.’ Dani remained tight-lipped and looking at the floor. ‘In the meantime, I don’t think you need to be at school today. You wait here and I’ll call your mum. She can come and get you and take you home. You can stay there until your face gets better, if you like.’ As she spoke, Miss Sawyer saw something change in Dani’s expression. She almost looked as if she was about to say something, but the moment soon passed, and she went back to staring at the floor. ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes,’ Miss Sawyer said. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like some orange while you wait?’ ‘What did you tell her?’ They were alone in the kitchen. Mum had arrived at school quickly with a dangerous kind of look in her face. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw the extent of the damage to her face: this was the first time she had looked at her foster daughter since the night it had happened, Dani having crept out of the house early for school that morning. She rushed Dani out of Miss Sawyer’s office, despite the fact that the teacher seemed to want to talk. They hadn’t spoken a word on the way home, Mum walking briskly and Dani struggling to keep up with her. Now she was looking accusingly down at her foster daughter, her eyes cold. ‘What the hell did you tell her?’ ‘Nothing,’ Dani replied. ‘You just said you’d got in a fight?’ Dani nodded her head. Mum seemed slightly mollified. ‘Good,’ she muttered. ‘She wouldn’t have believed you anyway.’ She sounded to Dani as if she was trying to persuade herself, but the little girl didn’t know why, because it was true. No one would ever believe her if she told them what really happened. Mum turned away from her and took a packet of cigarettes from her bag. She lit one and sucked in deeply as the acrid smell hit Dani’s nose. She felt the familiar sensation of tears welling in her; she did her best to suppress it, but she never could. The others at school called her a cry baby, and they were right. She always seemed to be crying. ‘I didn’t break Rebecca’s toy,’ she whispered, her voice cracking. It was as if something snapped in her mum. She turned round and there was a look in her eyes that terrified Dani to the very core. Her mum looked crazy. She stepped towards Dani, and as she did so she raised the hand that held her cigarette. As if by reflex, Dani cowered, falling to her knees and automatically raising her arms to cover the bruised side of her face as she waited for the blow. ‘Please don’t hit me,’ she cried. But the blow didn’t come; instead, there was a torrent of words. ‘Just get out of my sight, Dani. You’re always causing trouble. You should count yourself lucky you don’t get punished more often. Go on, go to your room. I don’t want to see you any more. I’m sick and tired of having you under this roof. Sick and tired of it, you ungrateful little—’ And there her words deserted her. Dani looked up to see that her mum had lowered her arm and was dragging again on the cigarette, fiercely, as though the smoke was the only thing that could stop her from going over the edge. In the sudden silence that followed the outburst, she could hear the ash crackling as a good third of the cigarette burned down in one puff. Dani knew when to take her chance. She stood up, steadied herself on legs that felt suddenly very weak and ran up the stairs to her bedroom. Downstairs, she heard something crash, but she couldn’t tell what it was. Miss Sawyer had been distracted all morning. Little Dani Sinclair’s bruises were terrible, and something hadn’t been quite right when her mother had turned up. Mrs Sinclair had seemed worried, certainly. Concerned. But not affectionate. There had been no kind words or hugs, just a vague impression that this was all a bit of an inconvenience. It wasn’t just the mother. Miss Sawyer didn’t believe for a minute that it was Dani who had started the so-called fight – she was clearly just scared, protecting whoever the real culprits were. And in the wake of the social worker’s warning the previous week, it all seemed as if there was something more going on. So, come morning break, instead of joining her colleagues for a cup of coffee, she made her way to her office and phoned social services. Short of going round to the Sinclair house and getting to the bottom of this herself, it was all she could do. Gina Sawyer just hoped she was doing the right thing. It was mid-afternoon when the doorbell rang. Dani hadn’t dared venture out of her room all day. She was hungry, but not hungry enough to risk a trip to the kitchen. Curiosity, however, got the better of her now, and she pulled back a corner of the curtains that she had kept shut all day and took a peek to see who it was. Her heart stopped when she saw the social worker, Kate. She was a nice lady, but her very presence scared Dani. She had shoulder-length curly hair and was wearing a skirt with a smart matching jacket. Under her arm she had a leather case. Through the window Dani could tell that the door had been opened, and Kate spoke for quite a long time before she was finally allowed into the house. Butterflies fluttered in Dani’s stomach. What was she here for? What did she want? Please, God, she whispered in her mind. Don’t let her be here to take me away. Walking as softly as she could, Dani crept out of her bedroom and tiptoed down the stairs, avoiding the third one from the top, which she knew creaked loudly when it was trodden upon. The door to the sitting room was ajar, and from inside she could hear voices. Her heart in her throat, she approached the door and stood outside, listening carefully. Mum was crying. It was a strange sound to Dani’s ears, because Mum never cried. The little girl felt a sudden hot rush of shame. Was it her fault that Mum was so upset? She strained her ears to hear what her foster mother was saying between sobs. ‘I just can’t cope with her any more,’ she whimpered. ‘She’s gone off the rails and I can’t control her … not by myself. She’s always fighting, always bullying the little ones. We try to get her to behave and be part of the family, but she won’t do it. I’m at my wits’ end … I just don’t know what to do.’ Dani blinked furiously as she listened. She felt embarrassed by what she heard. The social worker started to speak. Her voice was calm and gentle. ‘Mrs Sinclair,’ she said. ‘You have to understand how disruptive it would be for Dani to be taken out of the home environment she’s known all her life—’ But as she spoke, a fresh wave of sobbing drowned her words. ‘What about my children? My real children? It’s affecting them too.’ She dissolved once more into those strange-sounding tears. ‘Mrs Sinclair,’ the social worker asked, ‘may I talk to Dani, please? Is she in the house?’ Panic surged through the little girl. She stepped away from the door and hurried up the stairs, doing her best to stay light-footed despite the sudden rush. Back in her bedroom, she sat on the bed, aware that her breathing was a bit heavier than it should have been and unable to stop her face looking guilty. There was a knock on her bedroom door. ‘Dani.’ Kate’s voice came softly. ‘Can I come in?’ Dani shrank against the wall of her bedroom and didn’t reply. The door opened slowly and Kate appeared in the room. She had kind eyes, which Dani remembered from the last time she had been here; but those eyes suddenly widened when they saw the state of Dani’s face. ‘Mind if I sit down? Do you remember me?’ Dani nodded. Kate gave her a smile. ‘You look as if you’ve been in the wars. Want to tell me about it?’ Dani looked down at her bedclothes, feeling suddenly uncomfortable under the glare of the social worker’s stare. Downstairs she heard the front door opening again – James and Rebecca coming back home from school. Having the whole family in the house, being the centre of attention when all she wanted to do was disappear into the background, made her feel even worse. ‘Your teacher told me you got into a fight,’ Kate persisted. ‘Did you get into a fight, Dani?’ She looked up, wide-eyed, and tried to put as much honesty in her face as possible; then she nodded her head. The moment she saw a look of suspicion in Kate’s eyes, however, she looked away. ‘I want you to know, Dani, that you can tell me anything you want without worrying that I’m going to tell anyone else. Do you understand that?’ Dani nodded her head again, still looking away. ‘Miss Sawyer said you started the fight, but you know what I think? I think you’re not the sort of girl who goes round picking fights with people.’ The social worker stretched out her arm and squeezed the little girl’s hand. ‘You’re not, are you?’ Dani shook her head. A silence fell between them. It was broken only by the sound of Dani’s mum downstairs, shouting something at James and Rebecca. The noise of her voice made Dani start, and she looked guiltily up at Kate. The social worker’s eyes narrowed, as if something had just made sense. ‘Is there anything you want to tell me about your mum, Dani?’ She shook her head again, quickly and emphatically. Another silence. When Kate spoke again, it was almost in a whisper. ‘Dani,’ she said. ‘I want you to listen to me very carefully. Sometimes grown-ups do things that make children very sad. And sometimes, when that happens, children think it’s their fault. But it’s not their fault, Dani. If any grown-ups have done anything to make you feel sad, you must tell me. You won’t be in trouble, I promise, and we can try and make sure it doesn’t happen again. Ever.’ Dani clenched her teeth. Half of her wanted to tell Kate about what had happened; but the other half of her wanted to clam up, to keep it secret. If she told, it would only make things worse. Kate squeezed her hand for a third time. ‘I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what happened, Dani,’ she said quietly. ‘Who did this to you?’ It happened so quickly. Just a single word that seemed to escape Dani’s lips before she even knew she had said it. A single word that she never intended to say, but which was teased out of her by the kind eyes of the well-meaning woman in her room. ‘Mum.’ Then, astonished by her confession, Dani covered her mouth with her hand and she felt the tears coming again. She shook her head, as if a sudden denial would somehow take back the word she had spoken, but it didn’t. Kate’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she sat there in silence for what seemed to Dani an age, though in truth it was little more than a minute. ‘I want you to wait here, Dani,’ the social worker said finally. There was something steely in her voice. ‘You … you won’t tell, will you? You won’t say I told you?’ To Dani’s horror, Kate didn’t give a straight answer. ‘Just wait here, Dani. I’ll be straight back.’ She stood up and left the room. Dani found herself holding her breath. Holding her breath and waiting for the shouts. They didn’t take long to come. ‘She’s a little fucking liar! Don’t you see what I have to put up with!’ Dani felt herself cringing inside as she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Moments later, her mum was there in the room, the madness having returned to her eyes. ‘What have you been saying? What lies have you been saying, you stupid little girl?’ ‘Nothing,’ Dani whimpered. ‘I never said anything. I promise.’ But she could tell her mum didn’t believe her. Her mum never believed her – why should she start now? Suddenly she heard the social worker’s voice again. ‘Mrs Sinclair, please. This isn’t in anyone’s interest—’ ‘Oh, shut up!’ Dani’s mum shouted. ‘What’s it got to do with you anyway?’ ‘Mrs Sinclair.’ The social worker’s voice was suddenly startlingly firm. ‘Your foster daughter has just made a full disclosure of substantial physical abuse. First thing tomorrow morning I’m going to apply to the courts for an Emergency Protection Order, but in the meantime, I intend to remove Dani to a place of safety. You can either let me do my job or you can obstruct me, in which case I will call the police.’ Kate’s ultimatum hung in the air as Tess Sinclair looked between her foster daughter and the social worker, her lips thin and her eyes flashing. ‘All right, all right!’ she spat finally. She cast a poisoned look in Dani’s direction, and then stamped back down the stairs. Everything seemed to be a blur as the social worker walked back into Dani’s room. ‘Now listen to me, Dani,’ she said. ‘I’m going to take you somewhere else, so we need to pack a few things.’ Dani felt sick. ‘I don’t want to. Where are we going?’ ‘Somewhere safe. Just for a little bit, until things settle down here.’ ‘But I don’t want to go anywhere else.’ ‘As I say, it’s just for a little bit. You’ll be able to come back home soon.’ ‘I was only joking,’ Dani tried desperately. ‘It wasn’t really my mum. It was these boys, on the way to school—’ But the social worker gave her such a piercing look that there was no way she could maintain her lie, and she simply dissolved into a flood of tears. Kate took her in her arms and held her gently. ‘Will I see my brother and sister again?’ she asked weakly. ‘Course you will, Dani. Just as soon as we’ve sorted everything out. Come on. I’ll help you pack a few clothes.’ Ten minutes later, Dani had packed a small bag. There wasn’t much in it – some underwear, a couple of tops, a pair of trousers and some pyjamas – but she made sure that her teddy bear, the one that had seen her through so many tearful nights, was safely stowed away. Then, with an encouraging look from the social worker, she followed Kate downstairs. Mum was in the kitchen, smoking a cigarette and looking steadfastly out of the window. ‘We’ll be in touch, Mrs Sinclair. Would you like to say goodbye to Dani?’ Dani’s mum glanced over her shoulder at them. She curled her lip spitefully and almost looked as if she was going to say something; but in the end she just took another drag on her cigarette and looked back out of the window. Dani felt her face crumple into a confused frown as her foster mother’s indifference stung her like little darts. ‘Come on, Dani,’ Kate said quietly. ‘Let’s go.’ She took the girl’s hand. As they left the kitchen, Dani looked back over her shoulder, hoping that her foster mother would have a change of heart and at least give her a goodbye cuddle. But Tess Sinclair remained where she was, cigarette in hand, facing resolutely in the other direction. James and Rebecca were in the front room. They sat quietly, side by side, on the sofa, their faces a picture of incomprehension. ‘Where you going, Dani?’ James asked. ‘Don’t know,’ Dani replied. ‘Are you coming back?’ ‘Of course she’s coming back, James,’ the social worker butted in. ‘Just as soon as she can.’ James’s eyes grew wide, and he didn’t seem to know what else to say. He shuffled a bit closer to his sister. Rebecca said nothing. She just watched in silence as Dani approached them and gave them both a kiss on the cheek. ‘Bye, James,’ Dani whispered. ‘Bye, Rebecca. I’m sorry your wand got broke.’ Rebecca looked down at the ground. ‘Come on, Dani,’ Kate said gently. ‘You’ll see your brother and sister soon.’ And with that, they left the house. The social worker’s small red car was waiting outside. Kate opened the boot and put Dani’s clothes inside; then she opened the back door and waited for her to climb in. Dani, however, found herself rooted to the spot. This little house was where she had spent all her life – at least, all of it that she could remember. Suddenly she was being taken away, and it gave her a horrible feeling. A cold feeling. Somehow what her foster mother had done to her didn’t matter – she wanted to go back. If only she had the words to explain it. Whether or not the social worker could tell what she was feeling, Dani didn’t know. But as she stood there looking back at the house, she felt Kate take her gently by the shoulders and manoeuvre her into the car. Had she been less timid, Dani would have struggled. But she didn’t. She strapped herself in and let Kate close the door. There was something ominous about the way it banged shut. As Kate walked round to the driver’s entrance, Dani looked back towards the house. Through the glass, she could see the silhouettes of two children, their faces pressed against the living room window, watching them depart. Then another figure, taller than the others, appeared behind them, pulling them away and closing the curtains. The engine started, and the car moved off. From her seat in the back, Dani could see herself in the rear-view mirror. As she stared at her reflection, she hardly recognised the face – bruised, battered and totally terrified – that was staring back at her. Dani Sinclair looked like a stranger, even to herself. Chapter Three (#ua3115ca2-1b84-5ae3-8a1d-b8f178b968f5) As they drove, the social worker made some phone calls, jabbering away on her mobile, clearly talking about Dani and making arrangements but saying things that the little girl didn’t understand. Not that she was listening much. She just stared out of the window of the moving car, the shock of what had just happened seeming to numb her. ‘How are you doing, Dani?’ Kate called after a while, a sense of forced cheerfulness in her voice. ‘Where are we going?’ Dani asked. She knew she sounded sulky, but she couldn’t help it. ‘Not far from here now. I think you’ll like it.’ ‘Where am I going to sleep?’ Dani persisted. ‘It’s called Linden Lodge.’ ‘Is it a home?’ Kate fell silent for a moment. ‘That’s not really a word we use, Dani.’ ‘Is it a home, though?’ ‘It’s residential care. There are fourteen or fifteen other children there, some of them the same age as you. And plenty of grown-ups to look after you. You’ll like it there.’ Dani wasn’t so sure. The idea of being forced into a place with other children she didn’t know filled her with apprehension. ‘Is my mum going to be in trouble?’ she asked meekly. Again that silence. ‘Your mum needs some help, Dani. That’s all. We’re going to try to give it to her. We’re going to try to make things so that you can go back there very soon. Does that sound all right?’ Dani didn’t know what to say. The idea of spending just one night away from home was horrible; the prospect of more than that didn’t bear thinking about. ‘My face hurts,’ she said in a quiet voice. ‘I know,’ Kate replied. ‘I know.’ It took forty-five minutes through the rush-hour traffic to reach their destination. Dani, of course, had no idea where they were driving – it had been ages since she had ventured this far from home. As they drove down a busy high street, Dani saw a bus stop. There were some girls her own age waiting for a bus without any grown-ups, and Dani remembered the one time she had tried to do that. Some of the kids from school had seen her and started to make fun of her, and she had realised she was standing on the wrong side of the road, waiting for the wrong bus. The embarrassment she had felt came back even now, and she cringed at how na?ve she must have seemed. As they carried on driving, the traffic thinned. It grew darker outside and the area seemed to grow less populated, and greener. They were still in London, Dani thought, but further out, away from the centre. Suddenly Kate slowed down and turned right, through some big iron gates and up a long driveway. She came to a stop in a small car-parking area in front of a large house. ‘Here we are,’ Kate said as she turned the ignition off. She got out of the car, opened Dani’s door and helped her out; then she took the bag out of the boot and held Dani’s hand. The house she led them to was large and detached, constructed from an imposing brown-grey stone. It had tall bay windows from which light spilled out to the front, casting a shadow of the window frames onto the ground. Craning her neck to look up, Dani saw that the house had lots of chimneys, and there were some tall oval windows jutting out from the roof. This was an old house, and Dani didn’t like the look of it. Together they walked up the steps, and the social worker rang the doorbell. ‘Where are we?’ Dani asked quietly as they waited for someone to answer the door. ‘Near Sutton. Have you heard of Sutton?’ Dani shook her head, but before Kate could explain any further, the door opened and a man appeared. As soon as he saw Kate and Dani standing at the doorway, his face broke into a broad, friendly smile – the kind of smile that seemed to crease all his skin. He was in his fifties, and had neatly cut blond-grey hair. He nodded at Kate, and then bent down so that his eyes were at Dani’s level. His smile grew even broader, but she could tell that his eyes kept flickering involuntarily to the bruises on her face. ‘You must be Dani,’ he said in a soft voice. He extended his hand, and coyly Dani did the same. ‘I’m Christian,’ the man said, wrapping his warm palm around Dani’s little hand and shaking it politely. ‘Welcome to Linden Lodge, my love.’ Dani looked at Christian, and then up at Kate, who was smiling down at her, and a wave of weakness crashed over her. ‘I want to go home,’ she said. Christian let go of her hand. ‘Well, Dani. With a bit of luck and a fair wind, you’ll start to think of Linden Lodge as your home before too long. We’re like a big family here, and we’re always pleased when new people come along. I’m going to be your key worker here, and that means we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. Tell you what – why don’t I show you where you’re going to sleep, and then you can come and meet some of the others.’ He stood up and gestured with one hand that Kate and Dani should come into the house. Kate stepped forward, and as she was still holding the social worker’s hand, Dani had no option but to follow her. The main hallway into which they walked was long and high-ceilinged. It had a chequered floor, and at the far end there was a wide, winding staircase that led upstairs. Once she was inside the house, Dani became aware of a smell not unlike that which came from the kitchens at her school – the smell of food being cooked for a lot of people. As they walked along the hallway towards the stairs a couple of boys crossed their paths. They were older than Dani, and they looked at her with interest; but it was in Dani’s nature to feel embarrassed by unwanted attention, and she hung her head as soon as their gazes crossed. ‘Your room’s just along here,’ Christian said as they reached the top of the stairs. They were in a long corridor, lit by strip lighting, with several rooms leading off it. Christian knocked on the second door on the right; when there was no response, he opened it and ushered Dani and Kate inside. It was a comfortable room. There was a thick red carpet on the floor, and a couple of snug-looking armchairs. The walls were covered with posters of pop stars that she didn’t recognise. Along one side of the room there was a bunk bed, and there was a further single bed positioned at right angles to it. It had a pink duvet cover, and was neatly made. Christian pointed to it. ‘That’ll be your bed, my love,’ he said. ‘Look all right for you?’ But Dani barely heard him. She was too busy looking at the bunks. ‘Who else sleeps in here?’ she asked. ‘Ah,’ Christian smiled. ‘You’ll be sharing with two others. Both girls, about your age. Vicki and Kaz. Nice girls. I’m sure you’ll all get on like a house on fire.’ Dani had never shared a bedroom with anyone before, and the idea made her nervous. She tugged on the social worker’s arms and looked up at her. ‘Please can I go home?’ she begged. ‘Please?’ This time it was Kate’s turn to crouch down to her level. ‘Dani, I promise you, it’s just for a little bit. We have to put you somewhere where you’re going to be safe. Once your mum is feeling better, we’ll talk about you going home. But everyone here’s really nice, and Christian’s going to look after you. Aren’t you, Christian?’ The man took a step towards them and placed his hand on Dani’s shoulder. He squeezed ever so gently. ‘Of course I am, my love,’ he said. ‘We all are.’ Dani looked up at the two concerned faces smiling at her. She didn’t know why, but she thought there was something odd about the way they spoke, almost as if they were trying to convince themselves. ‘Dani,’ Kate said as she started to rummage inside her bag. ‘I need to take a photograph of your face. Do you mind if I do that?’ She pulled out a small digital camera. The little girl shook her head. She did mind. She didn’t like people seeing her in this state, and she certainly didn’t want anyone taking photographs of her. ‘It’s just one picture, Dani. No one will see it unless it’s necessary, I promise.’ Dani wasn’t born to argue. Despite her misgivings, she stood up straight and stared flatly at the camera as Kate took her picture. As soon as it was done, she put her hand to her bruises, trying to hide them. ‘I’ve got to go now, Dani,’ Kate said gently. ‘But I’ll come back tomorrow and see how you’re getting on.’ ‘Do you promise?’ Dani asked. Kate smiled. ‘I promise.’ ‘Do I have to go to school?’ ‘Not tomorrow,’ Kate replied. ‘We’ll work out something called a care plan for you over the next few days, but in the meantime I just want you to get used to living here.’ She gave the little girl the bag of clothes they had packed. ‘What about my brother and sister? Can they come and see me?’ ‘We’ll see about that,’ Kate said in a tone of voice that didn’t give Dani much hope. She stood up. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she said, before turning and leaving the room. Dani watched as the door closed, and there was an awkward moment before Christian broke the silence that had suddenly descended on the room. ‘Shall we put your things away, my love?’ he asked. ‘Look, you’ve got some drawers here, and a little bedside table of your own.’ The little girl did as she was told in a kind of trance. When her few belongings were packed away – all except the teddy bear, which she clung on tightly to – Christian spoke again. ‘Why don’t you stay here for a while and get used to the room? Tea’ll be ready in a bit – I’ll ask Vicki or Kaz to come and get you, shall I?’ Dani squeezed her teddy bear a little tighter and nodded her head. She felt a bit better once Christian had left the room and she was alone, but only a bit. It all seemed so unreal: this morning she had been going to school as normal, and this evening she had been taken into care, away from everything she knew. It had been like one body blow after another, and more than anything, she missed her own home. It didn’t matter that her mum had hit her; it didn’t matter that Rebecca had been mean. Right now, she would even be happy to see Auntie Rose. All she wanted was her family. Dani looked at herself in a mirror that hung on the wall. The familiar bruised face looked back at her. She touched the skin – it was a bit less sore than it had been yesterday – and for an idle moment she wondered if the other children in this place would look anything like her, beaten and battered. Then she remembered the two boys she had seen in the hallway. They had looked perfectly normal. No, she knew with a horrible certainty that she was going to be the different one here. Just as that thought went through her head, the door opened, and she started. For a moment she didn’t turn round, choosing instead to look at the reflection of the room in the mirror. There were two girls standing and looking at her. They were dressed in trendy clothes, nothing like Dani’s. One of them, who had long hair and an Alice band, stood with her hands on her hips – a strangely adult stance – while the other, whose hair was straight but only shoulder-length, had hers firmly in the pockets of her trousers. They both had slightly pursed lips. Slowly, Dani turned round to look at them properly. ‘Hello,’ she said. The girl with the Alice band spoke first. ‘I wouldn’t spend so much time looking in the mirror,’ she said, ‘if I looked like that.’ Automatically, Dani’s hand touched her bruise again. ‘I was just—’ ‘Yeah, we know what you were doing,’ the girl interrupted her. She strode over to Dani’s bed, sat on it and gave her a combative stare. ‘I thought that was my bed,’ Dani said, doing her best to sound polite. But the girl wasn’t listening to her. She had found Dani’s teddy bear, lying there on the pillow. She picked it up by one ear and held it dangling in the air. ‘This yours?’ she asked with a sneer in her voice. Dani nodded. Suddenly the two of them burst out laughing. The girl holding the teddy bear threw it to her friend, who acted as if it was too hot to touch and threw it back. As quickly as she had picked it up, the girl on the bed threw the teddy on the floor. Dani rushed to pick it up, but before she could get to it the girl kicked it out of her way. Dani turned to grab it again, and this time managed to. She held the soft toy close to her, but that only seemed to amuse the girls more. ‘You got any sweets?’ the second girl asked her. ‘No,’ Dani replied. ‘Ciggies? Money?’ She shook her head. ‘How old are you, anyway?’ ‘Twelve.’ ‘You don’t look like twelve to me. Look more like ten.’ She turned to her friend. ‘Looks more like ten, doesn’t she, Kaz?’ ‘Yeah,’ Kaz replied. ‘How old are you?’ Dani asked. Kaz tapped herself on the chest. ‘I’m thirteen, Vicki’s twelve. But you’re nearly thirteen, aren’t you?’ ‘Yeah,’ said Vicki. ‘So you’re the youngest. Least, you act the youngest with your stupid cuddly toy.’ ‘I’m not staying here for long.’ Dani tried to say it defiantly, but it ended up sounding a bit apologetic. The two girls started laughing. ‘Yeah,’ Kaz snorted. ‘That’s what they tell everyone. I’ve been here since I was ten.’ Dani blinked, and she felt the familiar wave of sickness in her stomach. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Well, I’m not you, and I’m going home soon.’ Kaz shrugged. ‘Whatever. Creepy Christian says you’ve got to come down to tea, and we’re supposed to take you.’ ‘Why do you call him that?’ Dani asked. The girls smirked elusively. ‘You coming or what?’ Vicki asked. Dani looked down at her teddy bear, not knowing what to do with it. Just then, Vicki stood up from the bed and walked to the door, leaving Dani free to rest the soft toy on her pillow. She tried to do it nonchalantly, but when she turned round again she saw that the two girls were still sneering at her from the doorway. They left the room, leaving Dani to run after them. She followed them back down the stairs and into the hallway, where other children were passing through. Dani recognised one of the boys she had seen on her arrival. ‘Who’s that?’ he shouted out to Vicki and Kaz. The two girls looked back over their shoulders at Dani, and then over at the boy. Kaz made some kind of gesture with her hands that she couldn’t make out; whatever it was, it made the boy laugh as they walked through a door off the hallway, down a small corridor and into a dining room at the end. There were two long tables here, positioned parallel to each other, and one shorter one. Against one wall there was a serving hatch where two chubby, red-faced women stood serving food to the line of children and a few adults who were queuing up for it. Some of them had already been given their food and were sitting down – the children at one of the two long tables, the grown-ups at the shorter one. There were perhaps twenty people in the room – five adults to fifteen children – but to Dani’s ears they made enough noise for fifty. She stood in the doorway, watching everything happen. Not everybody had noticed her, but those who did cast curious glances in her direction; she felt her face flushing as she tried to avoid their eyes. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. ‘Hi, Dani.’ She recognised Christian’s upbeat voice almost immediately, and felt a small surge of relief that he was there. ‘Met Kaz and Vicki, have you, my love? Come on, let’s queue up. I’ll show you what to do.’ Dani’s key worker handed her a plastic tray from a pile next to the serving hatch and they waited their turn in silence. When they came to be served, Dani looked unenthusiastically at the spoonfuls of rice and something else that was served on to Christian’s plate. ‘Chicken curry,’ he said with a smile. ‘My favourite.’ Dani didn’t like the look of it at all, but she said nothing as the serving ladies filled her plate. ‘New girl?’ one of them asked with a smile, and again she could tell that the woman’s eyes kept flickering to the bruise on her face. Dani nodded. ‘Ah,’ she commiserated, her voice dripping with sympathy. ‘Never mind. You’ll soon settle in.’ ‘Come on, Dani,’ Christian interrupted. ‘Let’s find you a place to sit.’ Christian led her to one of the long tables and found her a place next to Kaz and opposite a boy she didn’t recognise. Neither of them looked particularly thrilled to have Dani sitting with them, but they kept quiet. ‘Look after Dani for me now,’ Christian said brightly. He put his hand back on her shoulder. ‘We’ll have a little chat after dinner, my love, and I’ll introduce you to some of the staff.’ Dani ate in silence. She didn’t like the food, but she didn’t want to make a fuss about it, so she held it down while the children around her made a special effort not to talk to her. She kept trying to think of things to say to break the ice, but nothing would pop into her head, so she sat there with a frown on her face as she concentrated on eating her dinner. Gradually, the others in the room finished their food. She saw them all took their plates up to the serving hatch, scrape the remains of any food into a large bucket and then leave in twos or threes, talking noisily. Before long, Dani was the only person left at her table. A couple of the grown-ups had left, too; there were three remaining now, and once Dani had pushed her plate away, Christian came up to her and suggested she come and sit at their table. Dani did as she was told, aware of the intrigued looks from the few children who remained in the dining room, and Christian introduced the other grown-ups. They were both women, both of them about the same age as her mum, and they smiled at Dani with the same look of sympathy that the lady who had served her dinner had given her. One of them had blonde hair in a short bob, with brown eyes. She wore a blue V-neck sweater, and was introduced as Rachel. The other woman, Tanya, reminded Dani a bit of Miss Sawyer at school, with her curly brown hair and chunky beige cardigan. They both shook Dani’s hand, and assured her in words that the little girl forgot as soon as she heard them that if she needed anything, she could always come to them, day or night. ‘That’s what we’re here for,’ Christian concluded. ‘I know everything feels very strange at the moment, Dani, and I know you’ve been through a lot. But we really do want you to think of this place as your home, so if you have any problems – anything at all – you must come to us.’ The two women nodded their agreement. ‘It’s what we’re here for,’ Tanya said, echoing Christian. Dani’s key worker looked at his watch. ‘It’s nearly seven,’ he said. ‘We like you to be in bed by eight-thirty. Does that sound OK, Dani?’ Dani nodded. ‘Good. So you’ve got an hour and a half. Did Vicki and Kaz show you where the day room is?’ ‘No,’ Dani answered. ‘Ah, well, it’s where most of the others will be. Shall I take you there?’ Dani blinked. The idea of having to be with everyone else – with Kaz and Vicki and all the other children who had either ignored her or stared at her as if she was some sort of unwelcome curiosity – made her hands shake. She clenched her fingers to hide the tremor from the grown-ups before answering. ‘I want to go to my bedroom,’ she said. Christian cast a worried look at the two women before allowing his face to break into another smile. ‘It’s been a long day, hasn’t it, my love?’ he sympathised. ‘Go on, then. We’ll introduce you to some more of the children tomorrow.’ He looked over to where Dani had been eating. ‘Scrape your plate before you go, there’s a good girl.’ Dani got down from the table, took her plate to the serving hatch and left the room. To her relief, the hallway was empty again, and she hurried up the stairs before anyone could see her. She just wanted to be by herself, under the bedclothes. Once she was covered, in the dark, she could pretend she was anywhere. She could pretend she was back at home. This place, Linden Lodge, seemed so strange and huge and unfriendly. She knew from experience that those girls were the type who would carry on being mean to her, no matter what she did to try to make friends with them. All she wanted – and she wanted it with every ounce of her being – was to go home. It didn’t matter to her that Mum had hit her. It wouldn’t happen again. Mum would be sorry, wouldn’t she? With these thoughts going round in her head, she approached the door of her bedroom and opened it. It took a while to take in the sight that met her. Dani’s duvet was no longer on the bed. She looked around the room to try to find it, but it was nowhere to be seen. Her few clothes – the ones that Kate had helped her unpack into the drawers – had been removed and were slung all over the floor. She found herself breathing heavily, panicking at the sight. Everything she owned was on the floor, strewn carelessly, spitefully, all over the place. She took a step into the room and started to gather everything in her arms in a bundle. Then she stopped. Not quite everything had been accounted for in her brief scan of the room. One thing was missing: the one thing she cared about more than any of the others. She stood in the centre of the room, dropped the clothes from her arms and spun around, desperately trying to find it. It didn’t take long to locate her teddy bear. The first she saw of it was its foot, peeping out from under her pillow. She tripped slightly over her clothes as she stumbled towards the bed and lifted the pillow up. Then she stopped, completely still, as though she had been turned to stone. The bear’s belly had been slit open, and most of the stuffing – a yellow, spongy substance – had been pulled out and was now by its side. The bear’s head had been removed, and for a moment Dani couldn’t see it, until finally she realised it had been partially stuffed down the side of the bed. She dropped the pillow on the floor and sat next to the teddy bear. It was only a toy, she knew. She knew she was too old for it really. But that didn’t make her feel any better. Her hands were trembling even more now as she delicately picked up some of the stuffing and tried to push it back into the bear’s carcass. But it was too spongy and kept springing out again, so in the end she had to give up. She gathered all the bits together, neatly placed them on the bed and then went around the room picking up the rest of her clothes. Once they were all put away again, she climbed on to her bed. No doubt they would let her know where the duvet was sooner or later, but until then she could think of nothing to do but lie on the bed, foetus-like, with the remains of her teddy’s body close to her skin. She put her thumb in her mouth, closed her eyes and wished – harder than she had ever wished anything before – that she could be anywhere but here. Chapter Four (#ua3115ca2-1b84-5ae3-8a1d-b8f178b968f5) Morning came all too quickly. When Kaz and Vicki had returned to the room the previous night, Dani had pretended to be asleep. From the nasty comments they made, it was clear they didn’t believe her, but it was easier to lie there with her eyes shut than to have to face them, to talk to them. A few minutes later, one of them had fetched the duvet and slung it on top of Dani; and soon the lights were turned out. ‘We know you’re awake,’ Kaz said after a couple of minutes. Dani said nothing. ‘We’re not idiots,’ Vicki added. Still nothing. Dani lay there, unnaturally still, her muscles tense, praying for them to fall asleep. In the darkness it was impossible for her to tell how long it was until she was sure, from the sound of their heavy, regular breathing, that the two girls were truly asleep. An hour, maybe. It was only when she was sure that she silently moved her duvet from where it had been slung over her and sat up. She quietly took off her shoes, and then the rest of her clothes, folding them neatly and putting them in her drawer before removing a pair of pyjamas, making her bed and then climbing back into it. She pulled the duvet over her head and took refuge in her little cocoon of darkness. More than anything, Dani wanted to stay awake. Nighttime, she knew, passed slowly. She liked that. It put off the coming of the dawn. Darkness was like a refuge, protecting her from having to face a new day. But she was tired, and it wasn’t long before she felt her eyelids become heavy. She did her best to keep them open, but the events of the day were catching up with her and she soon fell into a deep, troubled sleep. Dani was woken the following morning by the sound of voices. As she tried to shake off the blanket of sleep, she felt momentarily confused. Where was she? What was this strange room, this strange place? Then it all came flooding back, and she felt as though she had received the terrible blow all over again. By the time she had sat up, her room-mates were already dressed. Kaz was standing in front of the mirror, brushing her hair, while Vicki applied some lipstick. Dani had never used make-up; she tried not to stare as Vicki did it with such ease, but she couldn’t help watching. ‘What you looking at?’ Vicki demanded when she realised Dani’s eyes were on her. Dani looked away quickly and blushed. ‘Nothing,’ she replied. ‘Yeah, right.’ She went back to her make-up. Dani climbed out of bed and retrieved some clothes from her drawer. But as she stood there in her pyjamas, she was suddenly overcome with embarrassment. At home she was able to dress and undress in privacy; now, if she wanted to put her clothes on, she had to take her pyjamas off in front of these two girls. Timidly, she turned round and shuffled to the end of the bed, where she would be slightly out of their view. She tried to get changed quickly, but it only meant that she got herself tangled up. ‘Don’t worry,’ Kaz said. ‘We’re not eyeing you up.’ The two girls laughed and left the room. Dani wished she could go back to bed and stay under the duvet for the rest of the day; but she was hungry, and she knew that if she didn’t go down to breakfast she would only have someone come and get her, so she mustered all the courage she could. As she left the room, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The bruising had gone down – just a little bit, but enough to give her a tiny amount more confidence than she had had yesterday. She needed to find the bathroom first, but no one had told her where it was, so it was up to her to wander up and down the corridor until she found a door with a little stick picture of a woman. Like everywhere else in this place, the girls’ bathroom was lit by a flickering striplight. There were square white tiles on the floor and walls, which were splattered with puddles from that morning’s use. There was a row of four sinks, and behind a partition there were three baths, lined up next to each other without any privacy. On the other side of the room were three cubicles. Dani splashed water on her face, and then steeled herself to go downstairs. She avoided her room-mates at breakfast, choosing instead to sit next to an unfamiliar face – a sturdy boy with broad shoulders, strawberry blond hair and freckles. He seemed a bit older than Dani, and for some reason sitting next to him made her feel happier. The moment she took her seat, however, she regretted it. ‘Looks like you pulled, Dingo,’ a voice called from somewhere further along the table, and the boy turned to look at her with an unpleasant leer. There was giggling all around, and Dani felt as though all eyes were suddenly on her. A hot blush rose to the surface of her skin as she pretended not to notice what was going on. Dani wolfed down her breakfast, and was just about to leave the room when she sensed someone walking up to her. ‘Dani, Dingo,’ Christian’s voice said brightly. ‘I’m glad you two have met. I’m sure you’ll be very good friends. Dingo, you’ll look after Dani, won’t you? See to it that she’s all right. Make her feel at home.’ Dingo sucked his lips in, as though he was trying not to smile; Dani could tell that Christian wasn’t even vaguely aware of it. He shrugged archly. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Course.’ Christian nodded with satisfaction. ‘Good lad,’ he said. ‘Good lad.’ And with that he walked back to the staff table. Dingo glanced at Dani, and then snorted contemptuously before turning back to his breakfast and ignoring her as studiously as possible. She stood up and prepared to take her tray with her; but as she did so she heard her name being called. ‘Dani!’ It was Christian again. His voice rose above the hubbub, and for a brief moment the noise in the dining room quietened. ‘Just pop over here for a minute, would you, my love?’ Dani cringed, knowing that the other children would be looking at her and smirking at Christian’s term of endearment. She did as she was told, though, and walked to where all the grown-ups were sitting. ‘And how did we sleep?’ Christian asked her. Dani shrugged. ‘All right,’ she muttered. ‘Excellent,’ Christian replied. ‘Now then, everyone else will be going to school today, but not you. We have to sort you out with a place somewhere, but there are things we need to arrange before then. So that means you’ve got the run of the place. That’ll be nice, won’t it?’ He smiled at her, a broad, well-meaning smile that lit up his eyes. She did her best to smile back, and although she knew it must have looked forced, it seemed to please Christian, who reached out and gave her another of his trademark squeezes on the shoulder. ‘Good girl,’ he said. ‘I’ll come and find you later.’ Over the course of the next ten minutes, all the children in the home disappeared, running out of the front door with shouts and schoolbags. Dani couldn’t quite face going back to her room yet, so she spent some time exploring. The day room, which Christian had mentioned the night before, was on the opposite side of the hall to the dining room. It was a large space, with a snooker table and table-tennis table. Checking over her shoulders to ensure noone was looking, Dani rolled one of the red snooker balls against a cushion. A snooker cue was propped up against one of the walls, and she would have liked to have had a go with it; but she was too timid for that, so she made do with an idle couple of minutes of rolling the ball back and forth with her hand. There were a few armchairs dotted around, and several tables which had childish graffiti scrawled on them in pencil – though not as much as the ones she was used to using at her school. On one of the tables was a little pile of newspapers, but they didn’t look as if they had been opened. At one end of the room were some wide windows that looked out on to a fairly large back garden. There were some swings and slides, and a couple of football posts; but it was grey and drizzling outside, so she didn’t venture any further. Dani wandered around the room for a further few minutes before she felt she had exhausted the possibilities of the day room. She wandered out, back into the hallway, just in time to see Kate, the social worker, coming in through the front door. She was wearing smart clothes and looked hurried and harassed. At first she didn’t see Dani, standing quietly at the other end of the hallway; when she did, she seemed surprised, but she soon regained her composure. ‘Dani,’ she said brightly. ‘How was last night?’ Dani shrugged. ‘Did you meet anyone? Make any friends?’ Dani ignored her question. ‘When can I go home?’ she asked. Kate’s eyes looked away. ‘Why don’t we go to your room?’ she suggested, her voice suddenly a little more subdued. ‘We can talk about it there.’ Dani could tell from the way she spoke that she had bad news, and she led the way up to her room nervously. Once inside, they sat together on Dani’s bed, and the girl was glad that her vandalised teddy was hidden under the duvet. Kate looked her straight in the eye. ‘I want you to know exactly what’s happening, Dani. I don’t want there to be any secrets, OK?’ ‘OK,’ Dani replied quietly. ‘We’ve been granted something called an Emergency Protection Order. That’s something we ask for if we want to take a child away from their home when we think they’re in danger.’ ‘But I’m not in danger,’ Dani complained. ‘Mum was just cross, that’s all. I was being naughty.’ ‘No, Dani,’ Kate told her firmly. ‘Grown-ups should never do that to you. Never. The Emergency Protection Order only lasts a few days, so in the meantime we are going to apply for a Care Order. That means that the people here, at Linden Lodge, will take on the responsibility of looking after you instead of your mum. Does that make sense?’ Dani shook her head. Nothing made sense – nothing at all. ‘I just want to go home.’ Kate took Dani’s hands in hers. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I know. But that may not be possible for a while. Your mum has told us that she’s had difficulty coping, and for the moment she’s asked that …’ Her voice trailed off and she looked at Dani with sympathetic eyes. Dani’s face fell. ‘She doesn’t want me back, does she?’ ‘She might change her mind, Dani,’ Kate said hopefully. ‘People do change their minds. It just might take a little while, that’s all.’ Dani was breathing heavily now. ‘The girls here,’ she said, ‘the ones I’m sharing with – they said everyone gets told they’re going home soon, but they never do.’ ‘Don’t listen to them, Dani. Everyone’s going to do their best for you, and you’ll be looked after properly here.’ Dani suddenly felt cold. She removed her hand from Kate’s grip and wrapped her arms around her own body. She wished Kate would go, just leave her room – leave her life and never come back. Every time she saw her, she acted as though she was there to make things better for her; and yet every time she made things a little bit worse. Dani was not prone to hatred, yet in that moment she felt she hated the social worker, sitting there and pretending she was performing acts of kindness. ‘I think I’d like to be left on my own now,’ Dani said. Kate nodded. ‘All right, Dani. I’ll come and see you again soon. I’ll go and explain to Christian everything that’s going on.’ She stood and looked as if she was about to say something else; but at the last moment she appeared to think better of it, and left the room. Dani didn’t know how long it was that she sat there, hugging herself, staring into space and feeling as though her heart would break, but it was a long time and she barely moved. Wild thoughts went through her head – thoughts that she had never entertained before. Perhaps she could run away, run back home. If her mum saw her on the doorstep, perhaps she would have a change of heart. Deep down, though, she knew that probably wasn’t the case, and the sting of that rejection pierced her to the core. She just wanted something to hold on to. Something familiar. Comfortable. Gently she pulled back the duvet to see the tattered remains of her teddy bear – the one thing she had with her that reminded her of home. And now that too was spoiled. Just then there was a knock on the door; it was opened without Dani giving a reply, and Christian was there. Quickly Dani threw the duvet back over the bed. ‘Ah, Dani,’ Christian announced. ‘There you are. How is everything, my love? Settling in?’ Dani looked down at the floor, but didn’t answer. Christian seemed to consider that for a moment before he spoke again. ‘I’ve never met a girl,’ he said with a smile, ‘who doesn’t like hot chocolate. Do you like hot chocolate, my love?’ Dani nodded. ‘Come on, then,’ Christian smiled. ‘Come to my room and we’ll see what we can find.’ Christian’s quarters were scrupulously neat, if a little shabby. The walls were covered with books, and there was a modern stereo player and a TV in the corner, as well as a sofa and a couple of other comfy chairs. Her eyes were immediately caught by a pile of comics at about her height on one of the bookshelves. Christian noted her interest. ‘Help yourself,’ he said, but Dani immediately looked away. At one end of the room there was a door, which Dani presumed led to his bedroom, but it was firmly shut. He indicated a place on the sofa. ‘Sit down, my love,’ he said as he switched on a kettle that was sitting on a low table. He spooned some brown powder into a mug, poured on the boiling water and handed the mug to Dani. Then he sat down next to her. Neither of them spoke for a little while. Christian just watched her intently as she sipped the steaming hot drink. It made her feel a bit uncomfortable. ‘Thank you,’ she said diffidently after a couple of minutes, more to break the silence than anything else. ‘That’s all right, my love,’ Christian replied. ‘You can come here any time, day or night. I mean that, my love. Any time.’ Dani nodded and went back to sipping her hot chocolate. ‘If you feel like a cuddle,’ he persisted, his voice much quieter now. ‘Or anything else.’ He carried on staring at her. As Dani took another sip of her hot chocolate, she felt his fingers brush lightly against her bruised face. They were fat and sausage-like, the skin strangely dry. Instinctively, Dani moved her head away, and she became immediately aware that the atmosphere had turned awkward. Christian stood up. ‘I wondered if it still hurt,’ he said by way of explanation as he walked back to the kettle and screwed the lid of the hot chocolate powder back on. He looked over at Dani. ‘Nearly finished?’ he asked. Dani hadn’t, but she understood the tone of his voice and quickly put the cup down on a coffee table and stood up. ‘Lunch at one o’clock,’ he told her. ‘I’ll see you there.’ Dani nodded, and quickly left. At lunch it was only her and the grown-ups. She was invited to sit at their table, but she didn’t speak to them, and Christian barely even looked in her direction. For Dani, it couldn’t end quickly enough, and she was grateful to be able to go back to her room and sit on the bed, where she listened to the persistent rain falling outside. She willed the afternoon to pass slowly, but time flew and soon she heard the sound of the other children coming back from school. She was still sitting on the bed when Kaz and Vicki burst in. They were shouting at someone down the corridor, and as they fell into the room, they laughed boisterously. At first they seemed not even to notice Dani, but when they realised that she was sitting there watching them, their smiles fell from their faces. ‘Still here?’ Vicki asked spitefully. ‘Not gone home to Mummy yet?’ ‘Surprise surprise,’ Kaz added. ‘I wish you hadn’t ruined my bear,’ Dani said. The two girls looked at each other. ‘Who said it was us?’ Dani shrugged. Vicki stepped up to her. ‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘you go telling anyone things like that, and we’ll give you a bruise on the other side of your face. So you’d better shut it.’ Dani clamped her lips tightly shut. As she did so, Vicki tapped her three times on the bruised side of her face with the flat of her hand. Dani winced, but that just made Vicki and Kaz giggle. They continued giggling as they left the room. The evening passed slowly. Dani remained in her room, apart from at dinnertime, when, as before, nobody spoke to her. Even Christian refrained from coming up and offering her a cheerful word, though he cast the occasional glance in her direction while they were eating. After dinner, part of Dani longed to go into the day room and watch the others playing snooker and table tennis, to try to chat to someone or maybe even just look at a magazine; but no one asked her, and she was too unsure of herself to brave being with the others of her own accord. So she went back to her bedroom. Her little prison. It seemed to her that she would spend the rest of her life sitting on that bed. She brushed her teeth and washed her face before anyone else started getting ready for bed – that way, she would be able to avoid any encounters in the bathroom. She would have liked a bath, but the lack of privacy prevented her. Maybe tomorrow, when everyone else was at school, she’d be able to; but just now the idea of taking her clothes off in front of the other girls sent a shiver down her spine. Once she had washed, she got into her pyjamas, climbed into bed and waited for the inevitable onslaught from her two room-mates as soon as they arrived. It was gone eight o’clock when Kaz and Vicki sauntered into the room. For once they were silent, and although they cast the occasional scornful look over at Dani as she lay beneath her duvet, they didn’t make any of the comments that she was expecting. They just got ready for bed, turned the lights out and fell silent. As soon as the lights went out, Dani pulled her covers over her head and retreated once more into her little cave of darkness, and for the first time that day, she felt a moment of comfort. It didn’t last long. It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes before they charged into the room. In the darkness, Dani couldn’t tell how many of them there were – five, maybe six. Someone ripped off her duvet. She was already in a foetus-like position, but she clamped up even closer when she realised what was happening. There was laughter as they pushed her and poked her. They called her names that she didn’t even understand. Dani cried out – in little more than a pathetic whisper. ‘Shut up,’ a voice hissed, and she recognised it at once. It was Dingo, the boy she had met at breakfast: the boy who was supposed to be looking after her. She whimpered again; someone punched her and hissed once more. Then she lost control. A scream, loud and desperate, escaped from her lips; and once she started, she couldn’t stop. Startled by the sound, by the vehemence of it, everyone around her instantly melted away, disappearing from the room as quickly as they had appeared. But Dani still didn’t stop screaming. She just couldn’t. Kaz and Vicki said nothing as Dani lay there, still scrunched up, her duvet on the floor. Tears seemed to take over her whole body. She was shaking with them. And still the screams came. Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». 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