Mark Chambers was making coffee when Dandi reached the office. She gave him a grateful smile. He’d only been with them a few months, but he was fitting in nicely. A good-looking twenty-three-year-old, he was tall and muscular, with sleek auburn hair, soft brown eyes, a gentle manner, and an infectious, boyish grin. And he made a mean brew. He was practically indispensable.
‘I take it you could use one?’ he asked, dropping a couple of sweeteners into her cup.
‘Does a woman need good batteries?’ she quipped, flopping into her chair like a rag doll. ‘No biscuits for me,’ she added, determined to stick to her latest diet. ‘Help yourself, though. I put some nice choccy ones in earlier.’
‘Don’t know why you bother if you’re not going to eat them,’ Mark said, placing her cup on the desk blotter and sitting down. ‘How was she?’
‘Sleeping.’ Sighing wearily, Dandi leaned her head back. ‘And let’s hope it’s a long one. She certainly needs it.’
‘It’s amazing, isn’t it?’ Mark pursed his lips thoughtfully. ‘The way some people can just . . .’ Pausing, he shrugged. ‘Abandon their kids like that.’
‘Yeah. Especially when they’re as good as Sarah.’
‘She is, isn’t she? I just don’t understand it.’
‘And you probably never will. I don’t, and I’ve been at it fifteen years.’
‘Oh, don’t!’ Mark groaned. ‘You make yourself sound like a right old war horse.’
‘That’s ’cos I feel like one most of the time.’ Dandi yawned long and hard. ‘You’ll know what I mean before you’re too much older.’
‘I doubt I’ll ever be as old as you,’ he teased, hiding a grin behind his cup.
‘You’ll get yours, matey.’
They fell into a peaceful silence then, sipping their drinks and pondering the evils of the world. Dandi soon gave it up. There was little she hadn’t seen in the evil department, and it no longer affected her so badly that she couldn’t eat or sleep. Mark, on the other hand, was a long way off jaded, and she watched him now as he struggled with the conflicting emotions: care – but not too much. It was the toughest lesson of them all, but he would master it, she was sure.
Dandi wondered then – and not for the first time – whether Mark was gay. If he was, he concealed it well. But for all his masculinity, his size and his easy, testosterone-laden gait, he was so much softer of heart than most of the men she had ever met. Not that that meant anything. He could be one of those so-called ‘new’ men. The type who went out of their way to explore those aspects of their personalities that real men would rather die than admit to – but which most women adored.
The creak of the door slowly opening interrupted her reverie. Looking up, she saw a tiny face peering in through the crack.
‘What is it, Gillian?’ she asked, sitting up straighter. ‘Did the storm frighten you?’
Rubbing her eyes, Gillian shook her head. ‘Sarah’s crying again. She woked me up.’
Exchanging a weary glance with Mark, Dandi went to the door and reached for Gillian’s hand.
‘Don’t worry, sweetheart, she’s probably just having a bad dream. Let’s get you back to bed.’
‘Is the wind gon’ break the window?’ Gillian asked as Dandi led her up the stairs. ‘I thinked it was gon’ smash it, and it scareded me.’
‘No, it won’t break the window,’ Dandi assured her. ‘The glass is really strong, so the heat stays in and the wind stays out. Which is a good job,’ she went on teasingly. ‘Because the wind would mess up your hair, and I’d have to sit up all night brushing it again.’
‘It can’t get messed when it’s tied up,’ Gillian giggled. ‘You’re silly.’
‘And you’re very clever,’ Dandi said, squeezing her hand.
‘Is Sarah sad ’cos her mummy gived her away?’ Gillian asked then.
Sighing, Dandi said, ‘No. She’s just a bit upset because she can’t go home right now.’ Opening the door, she ushered Gillian into her bedroom. ‘Back to bed now, there’s a good girl.’
Two rooms down, Mark had his ear pressed against Sarah’s door.
‘It’s not clear,’ he whispered when Dandi joined him. ‘But there’s definitely a noise of some sort.’
‘Okay,’ she murmured, ‘let’s take a look. I’ll go first.’
‘Get the dress on!’ The man was getting mad. ‘I’m not messin’ about, kid!’
Sarah shook her head, not daring to walk out of the blazing pool of light that he’d placed her in, but determined not to give in.
‘Why?’ Holding the dress up he looked it over. ‘What’s wrong with it? Don’t you think it’s pretty? Look at the bow, and that nice satin rose. It’s gorgeous. Why don’t you just try it on?’
‘No.’
‘You’ll have to get dressed up all the time if you wanna be a proper model,’ he coaxed, grinning like a snake.
‘Don’t wanna be a moggle.’
‘Right, that’s it! No more messing . . . MAGGIIIEE . . .’
Maggie charged into the room, demanding to know what all the shouting was about.
‘Sort her out.’ The same-as-all-the-rest man pointed angrily at Sarah. ‘She won’t put the fuckin’ dress on!’
‘Oh, won’t you now?’ Maggie balled her hands into fists. ‘Right, lady! You’ve got two seconds to get that bleedin’ dress on, or else!’
‘No, Mammy, I don’t wanna! Don’t, Mammy . . . noooo . . .’
Sarah’s eyes were open, but she wasn’t awake. Curled into a defensive foetal ball in a dark corner of the room, she stared wide-eyed at an apparition that only she could see.
Moving slowly towards her, Dandi said, ‘Sarah . . . wake up, my love. It’s all right. You’re safe now.’
‘No, Mammy . . . Please . . .’
‘Careful, you could shock her.’
Mark’s voice penetrated the fog of Sarah’s mind. Her head snapped back, her mouth opened wide, emitting a scream so piercing that it made Dandi’s hair stand on end. Reaching out, she pulled Sarah into her arms and held her tightly, whispering soothingly until the screaming stopped.
Motioning for Mark to leave them, Dandi carried Sarah to the bed and gently laid her down. Lying beside her, she stroked Sarah’s sweaty cheeks and hair until she was sure that the child was properly asleep.
Easing herself up after a while, Dandi gazed down at Sarah’s face, so pale and fragile against the pillow, and prayed that the little girl’s mother would never reverse the decision to give her up. No child – whatever they had done – deserved the pain that Sarah was suffering right now. And, given the little that Rhona Baker had told her about Maggie Mullen, Dandi feared that Maggie would cause Sarah a great deal more should she ever take her back.
She never even tried.
PART TWO
1993
3
Starlight was a detached Victorian house, with a half-acre of garden, encircled by a six-foot wrought-iron security fence, mostly obscured from view by the forest of overgrown bushes and stately trees lining the perimeter. With ten bedrooms and four bathrooms, it more than adequately housed the children already resident when Sarah Mullen first arrived. Eight years on, with more arrivals than departures, it was quite a different picture.
Most rooms were now shared, but Sarah had managed to hang on to her privacy. Her room was too small for sharing, but even if it hadn’t been she’d have refused. It had taken her a long time to settle, and she wasn’t about to let some troubled brat come along and disrupt the fragile peace that she had achieved.
It hadn’t been easy. There had been some awful moments along the way: terrible heartaches, and bouts of depression so overwhelming that she’d thought she would never recover from them. But those times had decreased as the years passed, stopping altogether on her tenth birthday when, unbeknownst to Dandi, she had accidentally-on-purpose got onto the wrong bus after school.
Arriving in Moss Side full of anxious anticipation, Sarah had made her way through the old estat
e, hoping against hope that her mother would welcome her with open arms and say that she had made a terrible mistake in giving her up. She’d been shocked to find her old home empty – abandoned, like she had been – its doors and windows boarded up. But she’d been pierced to the heart when a gang of scruffy kids had informed her that the ‘fat slag’ had ‘done a moonlight’ two years earlier.
Anger had quickly dampened the pain and, taking the bus back to Starlight, Sarah had made a vow never to let anyone get close enough to hurt her like that again.
It was hard sometimes, when the dreams dragged her back to that last terrible day, but she struggled on – spurred on by the knowledge that each day brought her closer to her ultimate goal: to reach the age of sixteen, leave Starlight, and stand on her own two feet at last.
And with her fifteenth birthday just weeks away, she was almost there – providing she survived that long without getting banged up for murdering Dandi.
It was just Dandi’s way of showing that she cared, but Sarah found her attempts at mothering somewhat smothering. She needed to remember how old Sarah was and stop treating her like the fragile little girl that she’d been when she first arrived.
Still, only one more year to get through . . . And the rest of the six weeks’ school holiday.
Waking on the Monday of the third week, Sarah stretched languidly and opened the curtains. Smiling when she saw that it was a bright day, she settled back against her pillows and began to plan her day.
A series of rapid taps at the door, followed seconds later by the irritating appearance of Dandi’s smiling face, interrupted her thoughts.
‘Morning, Sarah. Breakfast’s ready.’
‘Not hungry.’
‘Oh, really! You’ll waste away if you keep skipping meals.’
‘Doubt it,’ Sarah plucked at a non-existent roll of fat. ‘I could last a month on this.’
‘If only I should be so lucky!’ Dandi patted her own wobbling belly.
‘Dandi, I’m not hungry. I’ll get something later.’
‘Promise?’
Rolling her eyes, Sarah put her hands behind her head and gazed out of the window.
‘Okay!’ Dandi held up her hands. ‘But I’ll be checking, so make sure you do.’
‘Yeah, right . . . Bye.’
Tutting at Sarah’s dismissive tone, Dandi closed the door, then immediately reopened it, earning herself a what now? frown.
‘Sorry. I just wanted to remind you that the new boy’s coming today. Make sure you’re around to say hello. Okay?’
‘I’m going to town.’
‘Again? What on Earth do you find to do there?’
‘It’s the holidays, Dandi.’ Sarah gave an impatient sigh. ‘I don’t have to do anything – that’s the point. Or do you just want me sitting in here all day so you can nag me?’
‘You win,’ Dandi conceded. ‘Just try not to be too long. You know it helps them settle in if they meet everyone right away.’
Sarah groaned inwardly. They all settled in sooner or later – with or without the stupid house greeting. And if they didn’t – tough! It was a dog-eat-dog world.
‘I’ll try,’ she said. ‘But can you go now, please? I’m trying to think.’
‘All right, but can you at least—’
‘Dandi!’
‘Okay, okay!’ Smiling, Dandi closed the door, leaving Sarah to her cherished solitude.
She wasn’t concerned. Sarah had always kept herself to herself. At first because she’d needed time alone to heal, then later simply because she preferred her own company. Still, she was happy enough. That was all that mattered.
Happy, and gorgeous.
Always a pretty child, she was now a stunning teenager. Tall and slim with waist-length glossy black hair, and the most incredible eyes Dandi had ever seen: luminous green, with lashes so long and black that they should have come with a government health warning.
The girl’s looks were the one reason Dandi was glad that Sarah was such a loner. She was far too young to be suffering unwanted male attentions. She’d have more than her fair share of that when she was old enough to cope with it. God forbid she should land herself in the same mess as Claire Wilson at this tender age.
Claire was a walking disaster. Just fifteen, and already five months into her third pregnancy. This was the first to survive beyond a month, but Dandi didn’t rate its chances too highly if Claire didn’t sort herself out – soon.
Which reminded her. Claire had an antenatal appointment at ten-thirty, but had pulled yet another disappearing act early that morning. Dandi had warned her what would happen if she did it again. It was time to put her money where her mouth was.
Going down to the office, she phoned the Mother and Baby Unit at Hillgate House. It was two months early for Claire’s transfer and no doubt they would raise objections, but she didn’t care. She had more important things to be getting on with than chasing Claire around. Anyway, Hillgate’s staff were medically trained. They’d stand a far better chance of saving the baby should something go wrong – which was all too likely, given that Claire was showing definite signs of drug abuse.
After a ten-minute verbal tussle with her less than sympathetic counterpart at Hillgate, Dandi was frazzled. But at least she’d achieved her objective. By six that evening, Claire would be someone else’s problem.
Releasing a weary breath, Dandi reached for the cigarettes stashed at the back of her drawer. Bringing one to her lips, she hesitated, reminding herself that she was supposed to be quitting. But the need for relaxation was stronger than the fear of cancer. And as long as she wasn’t corrupting the kids by doing it in front of them, she had nothing to feel guilty about.
Lighting up at the window, she drew in a luxurious lungful, then another, and another . . .
Jumping at a knock on the door, she quickly stubbed the cigarette out and wafted the smoke away. Not guilty, my ass!
‘Yes?’ she called, taking her seat.
Mark Chambers came in. Frowning at the smoke swirls defiantly riding the sunlit air at the window, he folded his arms and gave Dandi a pointed look.
‘Oh, shut up!’ She flapped her hand. ‘It was only a drag. What’s up, anyway?’
‘Vinnie Walker’s here.’
‘Christ, he’s early.’ Swivelling her chair around to the window, Dandi was shocked to see a car parked outside the front door. ‘Bloody hell, when did that come? I didn’t even see it.’
‘Too busy drooling over your sneaky ciggy,’ Mark chided. ‘Anyway, he’s in the hall. I think you’d best come and take a look.’
‘Is something wrong?’ Concerned by his tone, Dandi stood up. ‘He’s not had an accident, or anything, has he?’
‘No, it’s nothing like that. He’s just – how shall I put this – a one.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning that he’s already strutting around like he owns the place, so I don’t think you need worry too much about settling him in.’
‘Great, that’s just what we need.’ Sighing, Dandi came around the desk. ‘I hoped we’d have a bit of peace now I’ve sorted Claire’s transfer.’
‘Well done!’ Opening the door, Mark raised an approving eyebrow. ‘How did you manage that?’
‘Never underestimate the power of begging!’ she quipped, following him out.
She immediately saw what he’d meant about Vinnie Walker.
While his social worker waited patiently on one of the chairs lining the wall beside the front door, Vinnie was stalking arrogantly around the large sunny hallway, opening doors and poking his nose into the rooms. He was tall and muscular for a fourteen-year-old, with dark blond close-cropped hair, steel-blue eyes and a strong, masculine jaw. A little cruel around the mouth, she thought, but very good-looking all the same.
Walking towards him, she extended her hand. ‘Hello, Vinnie, I’m Dandi. Welcome to Starlight.’
Shoving his own hands into his pockets, Vinnie eyed her suspiciously. ‘What kind of a stup
id name’s that?’
‘Which?’
‘Both.’
The social worker gave an exasperated sigh. Smiling, Dandi said, ‘Why don’t you go into the office with Mark and get a coffee while I show Vinnie around?’
‘Thanks,’ the social worker said wearily. ‘I could certainly use one.’
Linking her arm through Vinnie’s, Dandi led him across the hall.
‘We think our name suits us, actually, Vinnie,’ she told him chattily. ‘Star – light.’ She waved her hand through the air. ‘Lovely name for a lovely home. Have you eaten, by the way? Breakfast’s almost over, but there’s bound to be something left if you’re hungry.’
‘Had a butty earlier,’ he muttered, thrown by Dandi’s friendly banter. He wasn’t used to people being nice. They usually just shouted and told him how bad he was. Still, she’d probably drop the act when his social worker had gone. They usually did.
‘How about a cup of tea?’ she persisted.
Vinnie shrugged as if he couldn’t care less.
In the dining-room doorway, Dandi clapped her hands together for quiet.
‘Everyone, this is Vinnie Walker,’ she announced. ‘He’s just arrived and I want you to make him feel welcome.’
Vinnie glowered at the kids seated at tables around the room, sizing them up to gauge where he would fall in the all-important pecking order. He was pleased to see that he was bigger than most. Only one lad looked anywhere near his height, but he didn’t have an ounce of the muscle. Vinnie smirked to himself. It would be a doddle establishing himself as top dog.
Taking him across to that boy’s table now, Dandi said, ‘You can sit here while I get your drink, Vinnie. Peter will introduce everyone.’
‘It’s Pete,’ the boy muttered, glaring after her as she walked away. Eyeing Vinnie then, he said, ‘Pete Owens. Who are you again?’
‘Vinnie Walker.’
‘Right. Well, that’s Jimmy . . .’ Pete pointed out his tablemates in turn. ‘That’s Ade . . . And that little knob-head’s Rob.’
‘Get lost!’ Rob retorted sulkily. ‘I ain’t no knob-head.’
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