Bill looked angry and began to breathe heavily. ‘He was an intruder on my land. It’s my right to defend myself,’ he said.
‘OK Bill. Calm down,’ said Paul. ‘It’s over now anyway. We’re lucky none of us was badly hurt’.
Bill picked up his rifle. ‘It belonged to my dad,’ he said. ‘I used to shoot tin cans with it when I was a lad and I’m not getting rid of it now, no matter what anyone says.’
No one spoke as Bill took his rifle upstairs and put it back under his bed.
‘Did you get a close look at him Bill?’ asked Paul, when Bill came back down.
‘Yes, I did,’ said Bill frowning. ‘Did you?’
Paul nodded gravely. ‘He was staggering when he came out of the shed. He must have been drinking.’
He glanced at Megan who was giving Ryan a drink of water and moved closer to Bill.
‘I never thought he would stoop this low Bill, did you?’ he whispered.
Bill lowered his voice. ‘No, I didn’t. I bet he was after the car parts. He should be locked up before he does any more damage.’
Paul moved nearer to Megan. ‘I think you and Ryan should sit in the lounge for a bit,’ he said, suddenly speaking normally again. ‘Bill and I need to talk to the police in private when they come.’
‘But they’ll want to talk to me as well,’ complained Ryan, now holding an ice pack to his face.
Paul helped Ryan up from the chair with a determined grip. ‘They’ll talk to you later,’ he said firmly. ‘Go on.’
Paul followed them to Bill’s lounge and shut the door as he left, leaving them alone.
Megan was suspicious. It was obvious her dad and Bill didn’t want to tell them who the intruder was. But it didn’t matter because she thought she knew who it was anyway. She sat down next to Ryan on the settee and took deep breath before she spoke.
‘I think it was Joe.’
Ryan put down the ice pack he was still holding to his face and stared at Megan.
‘What?’
‘I think the man in the shed was Joe,’ she said again.
‘What makes you say that?’ said Ryan.
‘He had black curly hair like Joe,’ said Megan.
Ryan laughed. ‘That’s ridiculous Megan. Lots of people have black curly hair, and anyway it was dark and you never got that close to him.’
Megan couldn’t explain how she knew it was Joe. She just did. But Ryan was right. It did sound ridiculous. She decided it was best not to say anything to the police about her own suspicions, but deep down she knew she was right.
Ryan’s parents arrived just after the police had gone. Helena was her usual fussy self, but Ryan’s dad Andy was calm and reassuring. Paul and Andy had been at school together and they greeted each other warmly. Bill was a little ashamed that he hadn’t bought a new lock for the shed, but he was relieved to find there was no damage, apart from a broken lock, and nothing appeared to have been taken. After a while, both Andy and Bill thanked Paul for everything he had done and they parted on good terms. Megan was hopeful that this might heal the rift between Bill and her dad.
When they got home, the strain of the evening’s events had taken their toll on both Megan and her dad. They were both so shocked and exhausted that they said very little to each other, before finally going to bed.
The ordeal in the garden had taken Megan’s mind off how ill she was, but now she felt weak and sick. She decided she needed to get herself well again, so she could persuade her dad she was fit enough to go out with Ryan. This was the only way she could think of to get to Irene’s house without her dad finding out. She climbed into bed and snuggled into the soft curves of the pillow. As she drifted off to sleep, another forgotten memory appeared. It was the soft feeling of warmth when her mother last kissed her face. It should have made her cry but it didn’t. It just made her more determined than ever to seek out the truth.
Next day, neither Megan nor Ryan went to school. She was still too ill and Ryan was shaken up after the previous night’s events. Paul was pleased when Megan started eating again, even if it was only small amounts, but she had yet to summon up enough courage to ask him if she could visit Ryan again.
A few days later, Megan and her dad were watching TV together in the lounge, when there was a knock at the door. It was Andy with a bottle of wine for Paul. Megan couldn’t remember the last time anyone, other than Bill, had called to see her dad. He seemed to have cut himself off from any friends he once had. She was pleased to see her dad making Andy a cup of coffee and smiling. Paul and Andy spent some time talking about the old days when they were at school together, but eventually the conversation moved on to the house that Andy was building. It seemed he was having a problem with the electrician he had employed and so he asked if Paul would help him out some time. Megan knew this would be a big challenge for her dad. He hadn’t worked as an electrician for such a long time that she thought he would refuse straight away, but to her surprise he said he would think about it and promised to let Andy know very soon.
‘Ryan wanted to come with me today,’ said Andy as he left, ‘but he wasn’t sure Megan was well enough for visitors.’
Megan looked pleadingly at her dad. ‘She’s getting better,’ said Paul, smiling. ‘Maybe Ryan can call round in a couple of days.’ Megan felt a sense of great relief. Hopefully the ban on seeing Ryan was finally over.
During the next few days, Megan tried to eat a little more and sleep as much as she could and, as a result, her recovery was swift. Ryan had been allowed to visit her briefly one Saturday morning, even though her dad stayed in the room the whole time. But at least they had made contact again.
Soon after Ryan left, a red Mini pulled up outside Megan’s house and Kirsty got out of the driving seat. She had heard that Megan was ill and had come to see how she was. Paul seemed a little nervous and overwhelmed by this visit, but he invited Kirsty into the house all the same. He spent some time talking about her car, telling her that he always had Minis himself in the past. Fortunately, Kirsty turned out to be a good listener as well as a good talker.
Megan noticed that her dad was becoming more relaxed as the conversation went on, which is something she hadn’t seen in a long time. He even joked about how Megan had probably become ill because she wouldn’t wear the padded coat he had bought for her. Megan pulled a face at the thought of it. Kirsty smiled knowingly.
‘Dad’s aren’t always the best at choosing coats for teenage girls,’ she said.
‘She’s not a teenager yet,’ said Paul defensively.
‘Well I nearly am,’ said Megan.
‘Maybe Megan can choose something for herself online,’ suggested Kirsty.
Paul frowned. ‘Megan’s only allowed to use my laptop for school work,’ he said, ‘and I wouldn’t know which sites we should look at for girls’ clothes.’
‘We usually just go to one of the high street stores,’ said Megan, ‘but Dad’s not keen on shopping, so we don’t spend much time choosing things.’
Kirsty was thoughtful for a moment. ‘I’ll let you know when I’m going shopping in York,’ she said. ‘Megan is welcome to come with me. I’m sure we can get a coat that’s both warm and very cool if you see what I mean.’
As Kirsty laughed, Megan suddenly had a vague memory of her mother, laughing in this very same room and she realised that she hadn’t heard the sound of laughter in this house for a very long time.
Momentarily distracted by this thought, Megan waited for Paul to refuse to let her go shopping with Kirsty. Whenever she was invited to go anywhere without her dad, he would refuse to let her go. But this time, to her astonishment, the refusal never came.
‘Thanks Kirsty,’ he said. ‘Would you like that Megan?’
‘That would be good,’ replied Megan coolly. She tried not to sound too enthusiastic in case he changed his mind.
Kirsty loo
ked pleased and winked at Megan. She could scarcely believe that a visit to York with Kirsty might actually happen.
Paul was keen to look at Kirsty’s new car as she left. ‘When was the last time you had a Mini?’ asked Kirsty.
A heaviness hit Megan like a brick. She feared that this innocent question would drag Paul back into his world of anxiety. She thought he wouldn’t answer, but she was wrong. ‘I haven’t owned one since my wife died several years ago,’ he said, as he walked round the car. ‘I gave up my job to look after Megan, so money was tight.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Kirsty. ‘I didn’t mean to pry.’
‘It’s OK,’ he replied gravely.
Kirsty got in the car and put down the window. I don’t know anything about what’s under the bonnet,’ she said as she started the engine. ‘Does it sound OK?’
‘It purrs like a kitten,’ said Paul.
‘See you soon,’ they all shouted as Kirsty drove away, and Megan really hoped that they would.
Paul seemed to have enjoyed Kirsty’s visit as much as Megan had. In fact, after Kirsty left, Paul spent the rest of the day reading and listening to music, instead of going to bed like he often did in the afternoon.
10
Rosa
The night before Megan went to York with Kirsty, she spent hours trying on clothes. She just couldn’t decide what to wear. Whatever she put on made her feel like a little girl and by the end of the evening she had grown to despise not only her clothes, but also her hair. She hated how her long red hair made her stand out from all the others at school. She wanted to have it cut short, but her dad wouldn’t let her. She promised herself that she would dye it as soon as she was old enough to decide for herself.
The next morning, she pulled her hair tightly into a pony tail so her red hair would be less noticeable. She then put on a pair of jeans and the plainest sweatshirt she could find and went downstairs.
She got her waterproof jacket from the hallway and draped it over a chair in the kitchen, along with her bag. She wanted her dad to see that she would not be wearing her childish white padded coat, but for some reason he didn’t seem to notice.
When Kirsty arrived in her Mini, she had braided her black hair with colourful strands, which Megan thought made her look like an African princess. Just before they left, Paul gave Megan some money to buy some new clothes. ‘Make sure she gets a warm coat Kirsty,’ he called as they set off, ‘and look after her. She’s all I’ve got you know.’ Megan cringed. Her dad always said that and it was so embarrassing.
Kirsty chatted cheerfully as she drove the short journey to York. She talked about what sort of clothes would suit Megan’s small frame and what colours would work with her red hair. Megan felt a warmth that she hadn’t felt in a long time and she didn’t want it to end.
The shops were dazzling to Megan. She loved the enticing window displays, the racks of colourful clothes and the pop music playing in the background. But what pleased her more than anything was the fact that she was there with Kirsty. It meant that, for once, she didn’t stand out as the only girl in the shop with her dad. Although it was exciting, Megan also found it a little overwhelming, but Kirsty knew exactly what a twelve-year-old girl might like to wear. She didn’t have a lot of money to spend, but by the end of the morning Megan had chosen a coat, a pair of jeans and two tops.
‘We’d better go for some lunch now,’ said Kirsty, ‘and I know just where to go.’
Down one of the narrow lanes between the quaint York shops, there was a little Italian café. It had a shiny black floor and glass-topped tables that sparkled in the lights. Megan couldn’t remember the last time she went out for something to eat. She wondered if she would understand the Italian menu, but she needn’t have worried.
‘Shall we both have pizza?’ said Kirsty.
Megan felt proud to be with Kirsty. She had now dismissed Ryan’s suspicions about her. In Megan’s eyes, Kirsty could do no wrong. Not only was she a nice person, but she was also attractive to look at. Her tall slim figure, smooth black skin and braided black hair made her look stunning.
‘Your hair looks lovely,’ said Megan as they sat waiting for their food. ‘I wish I knew what to do with mine,’ she continued. ‘I hate it being so red and curly.’
‘Your hair is beautiful Megan,’ said Kirsty emphatically. ‘It’s part of who you are,’ she added. ‘I used to try and iron my curls out with straighteners when I was younger, to make my hair look the same as everyone else’s, but now I realise that’s not what my hair is meant to look like.’
‘I wish I could be strong like you,’ sighed Megan.
‘We’re all different,’ replied Kirsty. ‘You’re white skinned with red hair; I’m black skinned with black hair, but so what. It’s what you’re like inside that counts and you are a lovely girl Megan, both inside and out.’
Nobody had ever told Megan she was lovely before and even though she felt a bit embarrassed and didn’t feel in the least bit lovely, she thought it was nice of Kirsty to say it.
A waitress with bright blue and purple streaks in her short black hair brought a coffee and a soft drink and placed them on the table. ‘I’m afraid there’s a 15-minute wait for the food,’ she said politely. ‘But just let me know if you want a free refill of your drinks and I’ll get that for you.’
‘She obviously doesn’t mind looking different does she,’ said Kirsty as she left, ‘but she seems like a really nice person.’
Megan laughed. ‘You’re right,’ she said.
Kirsty took off her coat and reached across the table for the coffee. Megan glanced at the terrible scars on her hand and arm and wondered again how they came to be there. She tried to look at them without Kirsty noticing but she failed.
‘Are you wondering how I got these scars?’ said Kirsty calmly.
Megan was embarrassed ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean…’ she began.
Kirsty sipped her coffee. ‘It’s OK. It’s only natural that people should wonder.’
She put down her cup and rolled back her sleeves, so Megan could see the full extent of the scars that spread upwards onto her arms. ‘I got burnt,’ she said quietly.
‘How did it happen?’ asked Megan.
‘When I was a teenager we lived next door to a dog rescue centre. I used to take the dogs for walks and help out at weekends,’ she explained. ‘Then one evening the place caught fire. The poor dogs were trapped. They were barking and howling. Everyone was telling me to get back, but I just ran in to get them out and that’s how I got the burns.’ She paused and looked out of the window as her face saddened.
‘Did you get the dogs out?’ asked Megan.
‘When the fire brigade arrived, they managed to free most of them,’ said Kirsty ‘but not all.’ Her eyes welled up with tears. ‘I lost my favourite dog,’ she added. ‘A greyhound called Peppy.’
Megan’s mind flashed back to the fire in the woods and she began to understand why Kirsty had looked so shaken and behaved so strangely.
‘I’m so sorry Kirsty,’ said Megan. ‘That must have been awful.’
‘Yes, it was awful,’ said Kirsty gravely. ‘But the nurses in the hospital burns unit were great. That’s why I raise money for them by running marathons.’
‘How do you stay so cheerful having been through all that?’ asked Megan.
‘Well everyone copes with things differently,’ answered Kirsty. ‘But losing a dog isn’t like losing your mother is it Megan? That must have been life-changing.’
It was the invitation to talk about her mother that Megan had been longing for. At last someone was not too scared to ask her how she felt. But now that moment had arrived she didn’t know what to say.
‘I don’t remember much,’ she muttered, ‘I was only seven when she died.’
Fortunately for Megan, Kirsty was persistent. ‘It was a car crash, wasn’t it?’ she
asked gently.
‘Yes. She was driving a car that hit a tree somewhere off the York Road,’ said Megan. ‘My dad thinks she was distracted by something, but we don’t know what.’
Kirsty sighed a deep sigh and shook her head as if in disbelief. ‘Tragic,’ she murmured. ‘It’s so tragic.’
Reaching out her scarred hand, Kirsty gently touched Megan’s arm. ‘It must have been hard for you and hard for your dad to cope with a seven-year-old as well as his own grief.’
Megan took a deep breath. She had to tell someone. She couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. ‘He’s not well,’ she said suddenly. ‘There’s something not right with him and I don’t know what to do.’
Kirsty looked surprised. ‘What do you mean?’
It was at that point that Megan began to tell someone what it was really like living with her dad. She told Kirsty about his tiredness, that left Megan doing all the housework. She told Kirsty about the times he would fly into a rage over nothing and the next minute he would be fine. Then she told her about his drinking until late into the night and how he sometimes never goes to bed. But most of all she told Kirsty how trapped she felt, as her dad tried to protect her from the world.
She spoke for quite a long time and for all that time Kirsty listened.
When Megan had finished, Kirsty spoke. ‘Have you told anyone about this before?’ she asked gently.
‘No,’ said Megan
Kirsty shifted around on her chair. She looked uncomfortable. ‘Megan, has your dad ever … I mean has he ever…?’ she began.
‘My dad’s never hurt me if that’s what you mean,’ said Megan. ‘He would never do that.’
Kirsty looked relieved. ‘That’s good,’ she murmured.
‘You won’t tell anyone will you Kirsty?’ pleaded Megan. ‘I don’t want social services to take me away. That’s what they do if your parents are too ill to look after you and you have no other relatives. I mean he’s not really ill like he’s got some disease or anything, is he?’
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