Finding Home

by Garrett Leigh

  Reg stopped at the living room door. “In you go.”

  “You’re not coming?”

  “I’m going to finish off dinner,” Reg said. “Go on. You can put a film on if you want.”

  He disappeared into the kitchen. Charlie put his hand on the living room door and felt a strange shot of nerves that quelled the anticipation he’d harboured all day. From his picture, Leo Hendry appeared good-looking and cool, like the hot lads from lower sixth who played football in the park after school, but the longer Charlie had stared at his image, the more something had felt off. Still felt off. The wait to meet his new foster siblings had been unending, but suddenly seemed nowhere near long enough.

  The feeling remained as Charlie pushed open the living room door. A stranger by the window turned and met his gaze. Leo. Tall and curly-haired, like his picture had promised, he appeared just as Charlie expected, save the bandage that covered his entire left arm, and the emptiest eyes Charlie had ever seen.

  The new presence in the room irritated Leo. Like it wasn’t enough to watch the rest of them pretending that they gave a shit about Lila, now he had to make conversation with some gangly kid—a kid, if he’d understood his new foster-monster correctly, who was going to be his “brother” for the foreseeable future.

  Great. Could this day get any worse? Ha. If the last few months had taught Leo anything, it was that things could always get worse.

  “Um . . . All right, mate? I’m Charlie.”

  “I know.” Leo flicked his gaze to the arts-and-craft session going on at the far side of the large, open-plan living room—Lila, Kate, and a bird called Fliss, all plaiting stupid pieces of string like it was the best thing in the world—and back to the kid. “Who cares?”

  “Fair enough. I’m guessing you’re Leo?”

  “If you say so.” Leo eyed Charlie, who pushed himself off the doorframe and ventured into the room to fiddle with the TV. He was taller than Leo, and lean, like he hadn’t quite grown into his legs yet, with olive skin and shiny dark hair. I wonder what his eyes are like. For a moment, Leo regretted not bothering to take a proper look, then movement at the dining table caught his attention.

  “I’m hungry. Dinner soon?”

  Leo signed back, “When they tell us where the food is.”

  Lila started to reply, but the foster monster, Kate, rose and waved her hand. She shook her head when she had Lila’s attention and signed along with her speech. “We eat together in this house, Leo. Dinner’s at seven, but you can have some fruit if you’re hungry.”

  Leo frowned. He was used to sign language being their own secret code. He’d forgotten everyone in this new place probably signed better than he did. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Okay, sweetie. Let me know if you change your mind.”

  Kate left the room. She came back with a bowl of grapes for Lila. Leo wanted to cross the room and check they were seedless. Grape seeds irritated the cough Lila had developed since the fire, but something stayed him.

  Charlie touched Leo’s arm. Leo hadn’t noticed him slouching on the arm of the sofa. “Do you want to play Xbox downstairs?”

  Leo kept his gaze on Lila, despite a strange urge to acquaint himself with the face attached to the blazing fingertips on his arm. “Downstairs?”

  “Yeah, in the cellar with all the games and stuff. Want to see?”

  Yes. “No, thanks.”

  Charlie let his hand drop and glanced over Leo’s shoulder. Leo didn’t have to turn to know that he’d caught the eye of someone behind them. Reg, I bet. The bloke had been lurking like a stalker since he and his wife had turned up at the house of the latest set of foster parents to show Leo the door.

  “Um, what about PlayStation?”

  “You say ‘um’ a lot.” Leo finally took a proper look at Charlie. Wished he hadn’t. Charlie’s dark-brown eyes and full lips were a distraction he didn’t need. “Have you got a stutter or something?”

  “No.” Charlie got up and turned away, head down, slender shoulders slumped. Leo almost felt bad, until Charlie stopped, his hand on the door. “I’m going to bring the Wii up. I don’t give a shit if you play or not, but anything’s got to be better than staring daggers at my mum’s back.”

  Twat.

  Charlie left the room. Reg took his place in the doorway. “Charlie’s a good kid. With any luck, you’ll be going to the same school soon, so it might be good to spend some time together.”

  “Okay.”

  Reg raised an eyebrow but said no more. He moved to the table with the others and hovered with his hand on Kate’s back. Leo waited for her to jump and move away, but she didn’t. In fact, she smiled, which did nothing to calm the burning in Leo’s chest. He smelled whiskey and smoke, and the scaly, burned skin began to smoulder as Reg pulled up a chair beside Lila. He reached for the bracelet she was working on, signed something Leo couldn’t see.

  Then he touched her arm.

  Leo jumped up and darted across the room. He wrenched Lila from her chair and tugged her behind him. “Get your hands off her.”

  Reg pushed his chair back and stood. Leo steeled himself, but instead of advancing on them, Reg retreated to the big bay window and raised his hands. “I wasn’t going to hurt her, Leo. No one’s going to hurt you here.”

  The growl in Leo’s own throat surprised him. He’d wanted to hit Dennis, but he wanted to hit Reg more. Wanted to wipe that fake, patient stare from his fake, patient face. Wanted to punch him until he punched Leo back and showed his true colours.

  He pulled Lila farther behind him and balled his hands into fists. He stepped forward, but Kate blocked his path. She was a petite woman, half the size of his own mother, but her unmoving stance stopped Leo in his tracks.

  “Leo, honey. Let Lila go. I’m going to take her upstairs so she can wash her hands for dinner.”

  She held out her hands. Her smile was kind, but Reg’s presence behind her set Leo’s teeth on edge. He tightened his grip on Lila. She squirmed and tapped his arm, but he held firm even as a mist descended in his noisy brain. How many times had Dennis torn them apart? Locked Lila in her room so he could punish Leo for putting himself between Dennis and their mother?

  “Leo.” For the second time that day, Charlie’s gentle voice startled him. Charlie put the games console on the arm of the couch and Leo felt his liquid gaze all over him. “Lila’s okay. She’s safe with Kate.”

  For a moment, no one moved, or even breathed, but then the fog clouding Leo’s vision lifted as abruptly as it had descended.

  He let Lila go. Fliss, who’d remained silent until now, ghosted out of the room. Reg followed, then Kate stepped forward. “I’m going to take Lila upstairs to wash her hands.”

  Dazed, Leo nodded. He was still getting used to the red haze that misted his vision when his heart beat too fast. “She doesn’t like cold water.”

  “I know, sweetheart. You wrote it in your family journal.”

  “Why do you have that?”

  Kate lifted Lila to her hip as though she weighed nothing at all. “Your caseworker gave it to us. That’s why they asked you to keep it, so we could get to know you a little before you got here.”

  That sounded about right, though Leo had only filled out the stupid diary so people didn’t fuck with Lila’s routine while he was at school. “She’s allergic to baby wipes too, so don’t clean her face with them.”

  “I know, Leo.”

  Kate carried Lila out of the room. Leo ran a hand through his hair and tugged hard, using the pain to ground himself. New places always felt weird, but this house was something else. He glanced around at the smiling family photos, bright cushions, and warm wood floors. The big semidetached was the kind of home Leo dreamed of on the rare nights his subconscious took him somewhere pleasant . . . took him to a place where smoke meant campfires and warm beer, not the brutal end of his childhood.

  Charlie cleared his throat. Somehow, Leo had missed him setting up the Wii and parking himself on the coffee table
. “Wanna play Mario Kart?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Mario Kart,” Charlie said. “Come on. We’ve got time for a quick game before dinner.”

  “And dinner’s at seven, yeah?”

  “Yep.” Charlie grinned, and it changed his whole face. His soulful eyes brightened and sucked Leo in, drew him closer until he took a place on the coffee table and found himself falling headfirst into the forgotten world of animated mushrooms and magical gold coins.

  The rest of the evening passed in a blur of video games and companionable silence with Charlie, and then dinner at the big round table with everyone else: Kate, Fliss, Charlie . . . Reg. Leo watched Reg like a hawk, but he made no move to touch Lila again.

  After dinner, Kate signed to Lila. “Bath time.”

  Leo stood and held out his hand. “I’ll do it.”

  “You don’t have to, Leo. It’s our job to take care of you and Lila now.”

  Our job. Leo glanced between Kate and Reg. No fucking way. He touched Lila’s arm and signed, “Come.”

  No one stopped them. Leo took Lila upstairs to the family bathroom—Reg and Kate had their own—and ran Lila a bath. He tested the water absently while Lila looked on, suspicious of the big, claw-footed tub.

  Leo turned the taps off. “Get in.”

  Lila shook her head and bit her bottom lip. “Don’t want to.”

  “Why not?”

  “Scary.”

  Leo suppressed a sigh and looked around for a bribe. Lila didn’t like change, but pretty things often distracted her. He found a half-empty bottle of bubble bath. “Bubbles?”

  Lila wrinkled her nose. “It’s too late.”

  “So? It smells nice.”

  “I have a box of old toy ponies under my bed. Do you think she’d like to play with them?”

  Leo glanced over his shoulder. Fliss, the oldest foster kid, stood in the doorway. “Why do you have toys under your bed?”

  “Why not?”

  Leo didn’t have an answer to that. He turned his back on Fliss and shrugged. “Lila likes horses.”

  “I’ll get them, then.”

  He heard her go, and it seemed like no time at all had passed before she was back with a pink plastic box.

  Fliss stopped in the doorway again and held them out. “They’re a bit manky now, but they used to be my favourite bath toys. Dad still teases me for lining them up in size order.”

  Leo took the box and signed to Lila, “You can play with them in the bath.”

  Then he looked back at Fliss. “Who’s your dad?”

  Lila fumbled with the box lid. Fliss moved to help before Leo thought to stop her. “Reg is my dad, at least the only one I’ve ever known. He and Kate took me in when I was two.”

  If Leo remembered right, Fliss was twenty now. Eighteen years. Fuck. “Why do you live here and not by yourself?”

  “Because this is my home, and the real world sucks arse.”

  A grin escaped Leo before he could stop it. He watched Lila dig the best ponies out of the box and place them carefully in the water, then he considered his new foster sister. With her blonde hair and pale skin, she didn’t resemble Charlie, though she was equally gorgeous.

  Leo frowned. When had he decided Charlie was gorgeous? Not that it mattered, because Charlie was gorgeous and—

  “Leo?” Fliss held out her hands to help Lila into the bath. “Is this okay?”

  Leo shrugged, but Lila hesitated, her eyes on Leo. “Go on,” he signed. “Get in.”

  “You’re really good with her,” Fliss remarked when Lila was settled. “Have you always looked after her like this?”

  Leo knelt at the side of the bath. “No. I didn’t need to before.”

  Fliss nodded like she knew. Perhaps she did. Leo had seen the ever-growing files that followed him and Lila wherever they went. Maybe Fliss had too. Or perhaps she had her own file of darkness and death.

  Lila splashed Leo’s arm. “Play with me.”

  Leo picked up a pony, a pink one with glittery hair. “Name?”

  Lila shrugged and pointed at Fliss. “Ask her.”

  “You ask.”

  “Sparkles,” Fliss signed. She picked up another pony and carefully finger-spelled the name.

  Leo snorted, though he was glad that Fliss had tackled that sign for him. “Captain America?”

  “Hey, don’t blame me.” Fliss rolled her eyes. “This one’s Charlie’s. He used to love that Marvel crap. He’s into some weird Japanese rubbish these days.”

  Leo didn’t know why he cared, but he filed the Charlie-themed snippet away for future reference. “Thanks for lending us the ponies.”

  “No worries.” Fliss stood and dried her hands. “Don’t tell Mum I said this, but I quite like it when they take little ones like Lila. Gives me an excuse to get all the pink shit out. Oh, and Leo?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t give Reg a hard time. He’s a good man—the best—and if I see you squaring up to him again, I’ll deck you myself.”

  It was late by the time Leo left Lila for the night. Her new bedroom had unsettled her, and she’d only fallen asleep when Leo had crawled under her duvet.

  He’d crept away to find Kate watching from the top of the stairs.

  “Well done, Leo. It’s not easy getting a young one to sleep when they’re in a new place.”

  “We’re used to it.” Leo stepped around Kate. “She’ll be okay in a few days.”

  Kate didn’t call him out on the fib, though she must’ve known about Lila’s night wanderings. “What about you, honey? Do you want a hot drink before you go to bed?”

  “No, thanks.” Leo looked around the landing for a place to sit and listen for Lila.

  Like she’d read his mind, Kate touched his good arm, though her hand didn’t linger. “Our bedroom is right there. Reg will hear Lila if she wakes up.”

  “Yeah, and then what will he do?”

  “He’ll wake me,” Kate said. “Leo, I know you’re nervous, but you have nothing to fear from anyone here. We’re going to take care of you, for as long as you need us.”

  “We don’t need you.”

  Leo made his escape to the door at the end of the landing. For a moment, he thought Kate might follow, but she didn’t. Instead, he heard her pull Lila’s door ajar and go into the bathroom.

  He stepped into his own room, shut the door, and sagged against it, more relieved than he cared to admit. He’d had enough playing nice, and it was only the first day.

  Exhausted, he made his way to the bed he’d dumped his bag on earlier that day. His hands were shaking, like they had done since he’d spotted Reg’s car pulling onto the driveway of the old foster place. Damn it. He shoved them in his pockets. That home had been a crock of shit. Behaviour charts, cleaning rotas, and endless lists of rules . . .

  Speaking of which . . .

  Leo eyed the closed bedroom door and wondered how long it would be before Kate or Reg came in and turned the lights off. How long he’d last before he told them to stick it too. In his pockets, he clenched his fists so tight his nails bit into his palms. Three years left until he could take Lila and get a flat of their own. A safe place where he made the rules, and they could keep the lights on all night if they wanted to.

  Yeah, ’cause it’s Lila who’s afraid of the dark.

  The door opened. Leo steeled himself for Kate or Reg, but it was Charlie.

  “All right?”

  Leo nodded and went back to staring at the ceiling.

  Charlie hovered in the doorway. “Do you need to put any of your stuff in my wardrobe?”

  “What?”

  “Your stuff,” Charlie repeated. “You don’t have much storage in here.”

  Leo had forgotten that, even though Kate had blathered on about it most of the way home. And now he surveyed the tiny, sparse room, he decided that it suited him. He shook his head without glancing Charlie’s way. “I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Suit yourself.”

 
Charlie left—irritatingly leaving the door open—though it didn’t sound like he’d gone far. Leo listened to him move around for a while, before his gaze drifted from the ceiling to the window. The glass reflected across the hallway, picking up Charlie’s lean form as he moved around his own room, half-undressed in what, in soft focus, looked like pyjama bottoms.

  Damn. Leo’s chest warmed as he took in Charlie’s sinewy, tanned back and lanky arms. His shower-damp hair and prominent hip bones.

  Yep.

  Definitely gorgeous.

  He searched the room for something—anything—to distract him. The walls were mostly bare, except for a few strange cartoons that were randomly dotted on the ceiling, some cut from magazines and others hand drawn. His gaze fell on a drawing at the foot of the bed, a felt-tip pen sketch of a red-haired woman with huge eyes and a pointy chin. Despite her exaggerated features, Leo could tell the woman was supposed to be Kate. Before he knew what he was doing, He sat up and pried it gently from the wall, then took it to Charlie’s open door. “Is this the Japanese stuff that Fliss was talking about?”

  “‘Stuff’?” Charlie glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t be polite on her behalf.”

  Leo said nothing. He’d liked Fliss’s blunt way of speaking, even when she’d threatened to kick his head in. It was a threat he’d heard a thousand times over, but coming from Fliss with her pretty eyes and box of ponies, it’d been oddly reassuring. A flash of normality in a strange new world.

  “It’s manga,” Charlie said when Leo let the silence fill the room like a dense black fog. “I draw them with my mate Jess. She writes the storyboards.”

  “Then what do you do with them?”

  Charlie shrugged. “Stick ’em on our bedroom walls, mainly. I’m saving some for my uni applications, though. I want to go to UAL.”

  Uni. So Charlie was one of those kids with plans . . . prospects, a future. Leo wanted to hate him. Couldn’t. “Is manga like that anime stuff?”

  “God, no.” Charlie moved so fast he blurred across the room. He crouched down by his bed and rummaged underneath. “Anime is totally different. Look.”