How to Make Time for Me

by Fiona Perrin

  There was a collective gasp in the room as the camera cut to me, standing on the flimsy-looking chair, tears streaming.

  ‘Ooh, Mum, you were brilliant,’ said Daisy.

  ‘Shhhhhhh,’ everyone else howled.

  The reporter was on the screen again. ‘The police have also put out an appeal on social media where Wilf’s father told him they just want him home to talk about everything.’ Cut to Ralph’s face, wan and pleading in the small room at the police station. ‘It is believed that Wilf is still in the area. Anyone with any information is asked to call the police station as soon as possible.’ He read out a number that was then featured on the bottom of the screen.

  As the news anchor moved to talk about another feature, my sitting room erupted.

  ‘So great – that’s sure to get loads of attention.’

  ‘Straight from the heart, Cal!’

  ‘Proud of you – let’s hope it gets him back.’

  ‘Not invisible any more,’ Marv hissed at me as he came forward and hugged me fiercely.

  ‘You were great,’ Patrick said quietly, but then looked away.

  ‘Let’s just hope it helps find Wilf,’ I muttered.

  ‘Come on, Marv, Lil, let’s start on that footage now, get it out everywhere online,’ Daisy urged.

  I felt flat, exhaustion mixing with the feeling of seeing this desperate image of me out there in the world. I sat for a moment on the sofa arm and tried to find some strength.

  It was then that there was a cry from the kitchen.

  ‘Oh, fuck,’ Daisy shouted. ‘Mum, come quick. I think there’s something.’

  And as I flew over those few feet to stand behind her at the screen, Marv was saying, ‘I really think it might be…’

  On the screen was a photograph of Fishy Pete, standing beside mixing decks, with a banner across the middle of it, Snapchat-style. It read:

  Shoutout for missing kid Wilf! Share widely.

  But more importantly, just visible in the corner of the picture, was a blue and white striped shape.

  It was an image I immediately recognised.

  It was the stripy scarf that Wilf always wore when he went out on his bike.

  26

  What happened next could best be described as a hullabaloo.

  ‘It’s his scarf. There! Behind Fishy Pete.’ I burst into tears.

  ‘Who’s Fishy Pete?’ Abby.

  ‘What about Pete?’ Mum, from the other room.

  ‘There. On the computer.’

  Daisy grabbed the laptop and raced it into the sitting room. ‘Lois, Lorca, look! This is a Snapchat shoutout that Pete from your centre has put out and just there, in the corner, look, it’s Wilf’s scarf.’

  Mum and Dad peered at the screen. ‘That’s Pete’s room at Seymour House,’ said Dad.

  I stood in the doorway between the two rooms. ‘Do you think Wilf could be there? Do you think Pete has been hiding Wilf all this time?’

  ‘Doesn’t make any sense.’ Dad shook his head.

  Mum looked bewildered. ‘But why would he do that?’

  ‘God knows,’ Patrick cried, ‘but who cares? We need to get down there NOW.’

  *

  I rang Ralph from Patrick’s car. He sounded as bewildered as everyone else. ‘But he said he hadn’t heard from Wilf, the kid, Pete. You spoke to him – and so did Marvin,’ he said.

  The phone was obviously playing on speaker in Petra’s car as she joined in. ‘I hope you’re not getting your hopes up, Calypso. Wilf could just as well have left his scarf there.’

  I hated her for being right. In fact, I just hated her generally, but I swallowed my pride and said, ‘We’re on our way there now. At least we can find out what’s going on.’

  Patrick ignored the ‘we’ and put his foot harder on the accelerator. And I’d said it unwittingly, but I’d also meant the wider ‘we’ – Daisy, Lil and Aiden in the back of the car; my parents following in Marv’s and Ajay and Abby behind that in her sports car.

  Then I called the station – the phone was picked up by PC Warren. ‘We’ll meet you there,’ she said with muted professional excitement.

  As I put the phone down Lily whispered, ‘I really, really hope he’s there.’

  ‘But why would that stupid twat not have told the truth?’ Daisy said. ‘I mean, he came on the fucking rally and everything. He’s been really active on Snapchat.’

  After all this was over, I’d have to sort her potty mouth.

  ‘Makes no sense,’ Aiden grunted.

  ‘I have no idea,’ I said. ‘But let’s just hope that he’s safe.’

  *

  Inside the gothic walls of the car park of Seymour House, we sprang out of the car. PCs Moshulu and Warren came speeding in next, a blue light wailing. The other cars followed, including Petra’s Mini, Ralph scrambling out before it finally halted.

  ‘Right, we’ll take care of this, if you don’t mind.’ The PC motioned the gathering crowd to stay back.

  ‘You don’t think he’s dangerous?’ I asked.

  ‘We have no reason to believe that,’ said PC Warren and they were off inside the centre. As the door swung open we could hear the familiar bubble of music and lively chatter.

  ‘I’m going in with them,’ said Ralph and he raced behind them.

  ‘I have no idea why Pete wouldn’t mention the scarf,’ Dad said, shaking his head.

  ‘Nor do I. Such a lovely boy,’ Mum said.

  ‘We’ve got to wait, so why don’t you come and sit on this bench?’ Daisy must have known that my parents were about to push everyone else over the edge. I looked at her gratefully as she led them a small distance away.

  I crossed all my fingers behind my back. ‘Oh, please, please, let him be here and be all right.’

  *

  It felt as if a million years passed. Everyone was silent, and then, suddenly, so was the centre.

  ‘Police have shut that party down,’ Marv said.

  ‘Do you think that means…?’ I asked, hope rising like steam in my bones.

  But before he could answer, there he was.

  Wilf.

  Tucked under his father’s arm, the blue and white scarf back round his neck, but, aside from that, being led with love and care down the front steps of the centre.

  He looked down at the floor but was clearly crying as his skinny shoulders shook. There was a huge, relieved cheer at the sight of him from the rest of the crowd.

  Then Wilf looked up and saw me. He gently broke free from his dad and ran into my arms. I hugged him as if I would never let him go again.

  27

  It was important that Wilf had the time he needed now; everyone else seemed to know that too. His grandparents, sisters and friends took turns, grabbing and hugging him, but leaving the questions for now. He was pale, sobbing now quite freely, his eyes wide with something between shock and relief.

  Only Petra said, ‘Well, young man, what has been going on here?’

  But Ralph shushed her with a glare and a curt: ‘Later, leave it.’

  All I wanted was him home safe and away from that place forever. I thanked everyone else for all their help, in between tears. ‘I’m so glad he’s OK, but Wilf needs to rest now. I’ll let you all know what’s going on later.’

  Daisy and Lily hugged him hard. ‘Knew you’d be back, Bro,’ Daisy said but her twin just looked happy.

  One of the policemen came out of the big door next, his hand behind the back of Pete, whose arms were behind his back in handcuffs. His cheery demeanour was gone now, despite the red trousers and the Breton top, his mop of hair was flat and greasy over a face purple with rage. As the officer pushed him into the car, he turned and snarled at us. ‘The family is a fucking capitalist construct, man. You choose who you love in life.’

  ‘All right, you’ll have your say down the station, sunshine,’ the police officer said and put his hand on top of Pete’s head to get him into the back seat.

  ‘Do you think that’s what m
ade him take Wilf?’ Mum asked Dad, super loudly. ‘Capitalism?’

  ‘I have absolutely no idea, but I feel very let down,’ he replied. Other residents came and stood on the steps as the patrol car drove off and threw questions at my parents.

  ‘We’ve absolutely no idea,’ Mum shouted at them all. Then she turned to Dad and said, ‘I think we’d be better off on our own right now, don’t you, Lorca?’

  ‘Shall I drop you back at your old house?’ Marvin asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Dad. ‘That sounds about right for us, now.’ I promised to call them later.

  Patrick opened the door of his car so that I could get in. ‘Do you mind if I sit in the back with Wilf?’ I whispered, and he shook his head.

  ‘I’m so glad it’s over,’ he said, but somehow still grave. Wilf sat holding my hand in silence and Patrick drove us home, without a word.

  When he’d parked, he just stiffly raised a hand and said, ‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ and, after placing a big hand on Wilf’s shoulder, was gone towards his door, steps away. As I shouted my thanks at his back, and he turned round to acknowledge them, it felt as if there was a very big distance between us indeed.

  *

  ‘I can roast a chicken,’ I said as we came into the hallway.

  ‘Winner, winner,’ Wilf whispered – his first real words other than to confirm he was OK.

  Ralph came bounding up the steps behind us. ‘I’m just so glad to see you, son.’

  Petra was lingering outside. I simply turned and shut the front door and Ralph didn’t argue.

  Wilf looked at his dad, who simply said, ‘We’ll have a chat, later, yeah? And look, wherever you want to be, I’ll be. We don’t have to go anywhere.’

  Wilf looked for a moment as if he wasn’t hearing right. ‘You mean… I mean…’ and he looked at me for reassurance.

  ‘Your dad means it,’ I said gently. ‘Now, come on, you’d better have a shower, while I put that chicken in the oven.’

  And Wilf walked up the stairs to his bedroom, where he belonged.

  *

  ‘I’m really sorry about what you saw,’ I said, catching him as he came back down, clean and having even shaved off the blond bum fluff from his top lip. He had on track-suit bottoms and an old orange T-shirt.

  He blushed. ‘Sorry for barging in,’ he mumbled. ‘It was just a shock.’

  ‘Yeah, I mean, ewwww,’ added Daisy coming out of the kitchen doorway. ‘I mean, who wants to know about their parents getting it on? Like seriously, ewwwww.’

  ‘Daisy…’ I warned but she’d made Wilf laugh and the horrible moment go away.

  ‘It didn’t mean I didn’t have time for you or want you,’ I said, because it was important to me that he heard this. ‘I will always love you, Wilf.’

  ‘Like, vom,’ said Daisy, but he came towards me and let me hug him again.

  *

  Ralph was tucking into roast chicken alongside the kids, as if he’d missed my cooking.

  ‘Petra doesn’t agree with meat,’ he mumbled.

  ‘You can cook your own food, you know,’ I grumbled, and Wilf smiled at me.

  ‘Yeah, what about feminism?’ Daisy hissed at Ralph. He ignored her and carried on slurping gravy.

  ‘Yum, Bisto,’ said Lily and smiled at me. It was so lovely to see her happy and relaxed and taking the mickey out of me, that I just smiled back too.

  It felt odd having Ralph there, rejoining our odd little family, albeit temporarily, but it also felt right, after everything that had happened. Eventually he put down his knife and fork and looked over at his son. ‘You about ready to tell us what happened?’

  *

  Wilf had been spending time with Pete, as we knew, making music, but he’d also been listening in to Pete’s conversations with Mum. ‘They get pretty deep,’ he said. ‘And Pete said families weren’t real. They were just something that society fed us to keep us controlled.’

  ‘What about DNA and evolution?’ Lily asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Wilf flushed. ‘He just kept going on about people choosing their families, rather than being born into them. It made a bit of sense, like, well, like Cal not being my real mum, but also just like a real mum, I suppose.’

  Ralph nodded slowly.

  ‘Is it because he lives in that centre with what would have been strangers?’ Daisy asked.

  ‘Maybe he doesn’t like his own family,’ added Lily.

  ‘He said his mum didn’t love him and stuff like that,’ Wilf said. ‘But, you know, most of the time we were on the decks.’ And where were my parents when this was all going down? Wilf answered without me having to ask. ‘Lorca pretended to be really into mixing, but he was mostly asleep, and Lois just talked and then fell asleep too. That place knackered them.’

  ‘And then what happened?’

  ‘Well, I told him all about having to go to Cape Town… I mean, going to Cape Town.’

  Ralph nodded but only said, ‘Yeah, we’ll talk about that.’

  ‘Go on,’ I urged.

  ‘And he kept telling me that the only true thing… he used a word: “authentic” …’

  ‘Yeah, authentic,’ repeated Daisy.

  ‘Well, authentic thing, was to choose who was in your life. I was just going along with what he said, but when I came back and…’

  ‘Yup, let’s skip over that,’ I said.

  Both girls went, ‘I mean, ewwwwwww.’

  Ralph looked at me sympathetically.

  ‘Well, I was upset, and I went there, and Pete let me in. He said I should just stay there the night, in his room so I didn’t wake up Lois and Lorca, and because it was against the rules to have guests and stuff, and that seemed a good idea.’

  ‘You should have let us know where you were,’ I couldn’t help saying. Wilf went red.

  ‘You were angry, though, right?’ Daisy threw in. I tried to remember he was only fourteen, when new emotions were racing through veins that weren’t ready for them.

  ‘Sorry, go on.’

  ‘Anyway, in the morning, he kept going on about how it was a good idea to make people understand what they were doing to kids when they messed with their lives like you guys had… Anyway, he told me loads of stories about his mum never being there for him and sending him away to school and stuff like that.’

  ‘He wants revenge on mothers,’ Daisy said.

  ‘He’s dangerous,’ Ralph cried. ‘I mean, he pretty much kidnapped you.’

  ‘No. Not really. I mean, I could have gone any time I wanted, but every time I said I’d better be off, he said that I should really freak you out, teach you a lesson. He doesn’t like you much, Cal.’

  That’d been pretty obvious whenever I’d visited the centre but, aside from not liking him much either, I hadn’t really thought about it.

  ‘He just kept going on about giving it a bit more time and then he locked the door when he wasn’t in his flat to make sure no one else came in. He said it was because of the rules of Seymour House. And he said it would teach you a lesson about what was important.’

  ‘Little bastard, didn’t he have any idea how worried we were?’ Ralph growled.

  ‘And he just let me watch telly and play on the decks – and he bought me food,’ Wilf went on. ‘So, it was all right for a bit. But in the evening, I knew you’d be really freaking. But my phone was out of battery and there was no charger and…’

  ‘Were you really scared he was going to hurt you or something?’ Daisy’s eyes were wide. Ralph and I both glared at her, but she carried on. ‘Like poison you until Mum and Ralph paid a ransom, or cut off your ear or—’

  ‘Daisy!’ I hissed. ‘Enough.’

  Wilf smiled though. ‘No, none of that. It wasn’t like being in the movies or anything. It was more like just hanging out with someone who was older and doing cool things.

  ‘Anyway, he said we’d just leave it a bit longer and then I’d just go home the next day. He had to go somewhere in the morning and then he’d come
back and sneak me out, so no one knew we’d broken the rules. He said it was about keeping his job and he’d been so nice to me, I didn’t want him to get in trouble.’

  ‘So, he came on the rally knowing all the time where you were, the bastard,’ Ralph spat.

  ‘Rally?’ Wilf looked really confused.

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ I put out my hand and touched his. Despite the shower and the warmth of the kitchen and the dinner that was going inside him, he still felt chill to my touch.

  ‘Anyway, I looked at his phone when he went to the bathroom and saw there were loads of Snapchats and stuff about me…’ Wilf’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Then he said it was good, as when I did go back my family would treat me properly. I was pretty freaked out then.’

  ‘He must be mentally ill,’ I said.

  ‘He might be nearly dead if I get near him,’ raged Ralph.

  ‘He wasn’t like obviously crazy or anything to start with and, I’m really sorry…’ Wilf started to cry again, not worried now about doing it in front of us.

  ‘It’s OK, it’s OK.’ I patted one shoulder while Ralph grabbed the other. ‘You’re here now and that’s all that matters.’

  ‘Did you wonder if you’d ever get out alive?’ Daisy whispered.

  ‘Shut up, Daisy,’ Lily hissed.

  ‘It was like he was really enjoying winding you up,’ Wilf went on eventually. ‘“Getting one over on the establishment.” That’s what he kept going on about. I didn’t even know what it was.’

  I felt cold with fear but on fire from relief. ‘So, he came back and by then I was thinking of all the ways I could escape without getting him into trouble and stuff. Like, because he had nowhere to live but the centre,’ Wilf went on. ‘But then, he was really, like… hyper… and I didn’t know why, and he kept saying he’d really managed to get to you. And he started going back on Snapchat, said I needed to wait a bit longer.’

  ‘Like he was high on seeing the mess he’d caused or something?’ said Lily.

  ‘And did you put your scarf in the picture deliberately?’ Daisy sounded impressed.

  Wilf, though, looked bewildered. ‘No, I never thought of that.’