Anna

by Amanda Prowse

  Anna stared at the heave of her roommate’s wide back, watching as she tried to contain all the emotion that threatened to overflow. She knew how that felt, like all the stuff inside you only just fitted and if you weren’t careful your actual self might shatter and everything would come spilling out. And if that happened, it would be very, very hard, if not impossible, to put yourself back together.

  ‘Well...’ Anna took a breath. ‘Until your mum or dad comes to get you, you can have the top two drawers of the chest.’ She pointed at the unit against the far wall. ‘And half the wardrobe. There are spare hangers. I don’t have that many clothes. And you can use my lamp if you like.’ She ran her fingers under the delicate loop-fringing that edged the brown velvet pleats of her bedside lamp. She liked the way it tickled her fingertips.

  ‘I told you...’ Shania turned and looked at Anna with her eyes blazing. ‘I’m not staying here!’

  Anna nodded and sat back against her pillows. She felt unable to leave the room, held hostage by the girl’s distress, desperate for the tension to ease. ‘Don’t cry, Shania. It’ll be okay.’ She whispered the mantra that had got her through many a lonely hour.

  ‘Shut the fuck up! I am not crying!’ Shania yelled.

  It was a full ten minutes later that Shania too sat back on the mattress, her head resting on the padded headboard. She looked round at the room. ‘I know it will be okay, but you don’t know what I’ve been through!’ she almost shouted. ‘Things have been shit! My mum’s got a new bloke who is a bastard, and my dad...’

  She paused, angry and embarrassed at the tears that spilled down her round cheeks. ‘My dad’s in the nick, but he didn’t do anything wrong!’ She was emphatic, despite not being able to look Anna in the eye. ‘It’s just a mix-up and when it gets sorted he’ll come here straightaway and get me out and he will kick off big time, I’m telling you! And my mum’s boyfriend and his shitty daughter better watch out then. So you might think your mum and dad are cool, but I’m telling you, my mum and dad are way cooler. They are brilliant. They are totally brilliant. They love me and we always do loads of good stuff together. And they buy me whatever I want. I don’t even have to ask, they just turn up with clothes and presents for me all the time!’ Shania turned onto her side and did her best to make her crying silent.

  ‘That sounds nice.’

  ‘It is nice!’ Shania yelled.

  ‘You don’t have to keep shouting at me, Shania. I haven’t done anything wrong. I have given you half of the wardrobe and the two biggest drawers and I said you can use my lamp and it’s my lamp. It wasn’t here when I arrived. I got it from the market.’

  Shania spun around and looked at her. Anna saw her shoulders relax and her face soften a little, glad that her kindness had had the desired effect.

  ‘I want my mum and dad to come and get me.’ Her tone had lost its aggression now. She sounded younger and she sounded scared. ‘I want her bloke to move out of our house. I want to go home. I want to belong somewhere or to someone.’

  ‘I know. And I’m sure they will come and get you when they can. You probably won’t be here for very long.’ Anna tried out a smile.

  Shania nodded, but her sigh told Anna it was more in hope than agreement. ‘How long have you been here?’ she asked, wide-eyed.

  ‘Erm...’ Anna looked up towards the corner of the room as if that was where a calendar hung. ‘Nearly two years.’

  ‘There’s no way I could stay for that long. It’s total shit here!’ And just like that, Shania was back in angry mode.

  ‘It’s not that bad really.’ Anna tried to control the tremor to her voice, blotting out the image of the blue towel with an indent in it, folded and placed underneath the sink on the bathroom floor.

  ‘I don’t care what you say, this could be a palace or a mansion, but I’d still rather live with my dad! Or my mum if that shithead moved out. Wouldn’t you?’

  ‘I’ve never met my dad. He drives a black cab, but I don’t know much about him. Except that he can curl his tongue like this.’ She gave Shania a demo and the girl almost smiled.

  ‘You are fucking weird.’

  ‘I know.’ Anna smiled at her.

  ‘That’s shit you don’t know anything about your dad,’ Shania offered with a flicker of empathy.

  ‘I know,’ Anna repeated. ‘And my mum is dead. And my brother is dead too. So there’s only me left. No one to ask about anything.’

  ‘What would you like to ask them?’ This had apparently caught Shania’s interest.

  ‘Erm...’ It was Anna’s turn to hesitate. She laughed. ‘God, there’s so much and now I can’t think of a single thing!’ What was my dad’s surname? Did I ever meet my grandparents? Do you know how much I love you, Mum?

  Shania stared at her, waiting.

  ‘Okay, so if I could ask one question...’ Anna thought for a few moments. ‘I’d like to know what my first word was!’

  There was a beat of silence. Anna could see Shania digesting this information.

  ‘Why does it matter what your first word on earth was? Surely it’s your last word that’s more important?’

  Anna looked at Shania and smiled at her wisdom. ‘You know what, Shania, you’re right! I’d never thought about it. I might not know how I began, but I can shape how I finish. Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘Kinda.’ She shrugged.

  ‘I miss my family. I miss them every day. My mum used to make me feel better just by being around. She knew how to take away my worries and she knew what I was thinking without me saying anything. And not having her here is really tough. I know what you’re going through right now, but at least you can see them.’ Anna offered this as some sort of balm.

  Shania seemed to consider this. ‘The fact that you can’t see yours is really shit,’ she whispered.

  ‘Yep. It is.’ Anna looked down and picked at a loose thread on the duvet cover. All the bedding at Mead House was the same standard-issue linen, doled out from the communal pile. Nothing was yours at Mead House, everything belonged to the care home. You just used it while you were there, while you were passing through.

  ‘I think you’re lucky.’

  Anna thought she might have misheard. ‘Lucky?’

  ‘Yes.’ Shania nodded.

  Anna swivelled round to face her.

  ‘The way you talk about your mum, she sounds brilliant.’

  ‘She was.’

  ‘And she died. She didn’t want to leave you and you didn’t want to leave her.’

  ‘No.’ Anna’s fingers moved to her chest, where the pain was most intense.

  ‘But my mum...’ Shania drew breath, her words delivered slowly. ‘She only lives three miles from here. And my dad’s a twenty-minute drive into Essex when he’s out. So close really, but... they just don’t want to see me. They didn’t die, they just gave up on me. Changed their minds.’

  Anna knew better than to rebuff this with platitudes. Shania was too savvy for that. Instead she let her talk, guessing that she didn’t confide this sort of thing in many people.

  ‘They split up when my dad went inside. I couldn’t believe it when my mum let her dickhead boyfriend and his daughter move in. It was like she didn’t miss him at all and I was gutted. She made a new family and it seemed to happen really quickly.’ Shania scratched at a mark on her jeans. ‘And I suppose I’m a reminder of him. I get sent back and forth between my mum’s house and my nan’s. I sleep on the floor of my cousin’s room at my nan’s, and at my mum’s I sleep on the sofa cos the dickhead’s little girl has got my old room. I am like this big bright piece of a jigsaw that doesn’t fit anywhere in the picture, so that’s why I’m here. She told me it would only be for a little bit, but I don’t believe her!’ She punched her thigh in frustration.

  ‘That’s really shit.’

  ‘I know,’ Shania mumbled, falling back on the mattress.

  Anna turned on her side, and both girls lay this way, in silence, looking at the Artex swirls of t
heir shared ceiling, lost in their own shit stories, until they were called down for their tea.

  * * *

  The two girls gelled. Anna quickly warmed to her roommate, who was a lot funnier and kinder than she liked to let on. Despite the fact she was incredibly messy and very loud, Shania made her feel a bit less lonely. They had heartfelt conversations in the dark and during the day would do each other’s hair and make-up, dancing to Radio 1 and going to jumble sales on Saturday afternoons. Shania wasn’t the touchy-feely type, but it was obvious to everyone at Mead House that she looked up to Anna.

  Now however, on her eighteenth birthday, it was time for Anna to move on. Tomorrow she’d be leaving Mead House and setting out on her own. There was to be cake and a little speech from Junior downstairs in the recreation room at five o’clock, but before that all she really wanted to do was sit quietly in her room and have a bit of time to herself. She sat on her bed and got out her pen and writing paper.

  Hello Fifi! Hello Fox!

  Well, just so you know, writing to you makes me smile. Every time I finish a note and place it in my expanding wallet file, I am most impressed by my dedication. Looking back at the letters I’ve been writing to you since I was six, I can see that my spelling and writing in some of them was really poor, but the pictures I did are pretty cute! The one of me sitting in a crane is my favourite – I’ve no idea what I was thinking, but maybe I wanted to be a crane driver when I was seven?

  I wonder if you’ll ever get to read these? And whether you’ll think it’s lovely or just creepy that I was only a tiny girl myself when I started to think about the family I wanted to have one day. Obviously I had no idea then that I’d lose my own family so soon, but having you as my future family has really helped, in a funny way.

  I love that I was with my own mum when I started writing you letters, and I love that she adored your names as soon as I told her! I so wish I had a treasure trove of letters from my mum! Oh my God, that would be incredible! And from my brother, too, though he was a bit of a hopeless letter writer, so...

  I do miss him. I miss him every single day. It makes me so sad to think of the waste of Joe. I am getting close now to the age he reached and that’s weird because he was my big brother and yet in a few years I’ll be older than him. He will always be twenty-two, but he won’t be my big brother any more. He would have been a wonderful uncle, and I am sure a wonderful dad too, if he’d given himself the chance.

  Oh dear, I’m crying now. There’s been a lot of tears recently. I am leaving Mead House tomorrow, and while I am excited, it feels scary leaving behind what has been my home and my family for nearly four years. Not that care can ever be a substitute for proper family life, not really. I still wonder how my mum’s sister could have pushed me away so easily – I could never allow any child I knew to be put into care, not without a fight, but that’s for her conscience to wrestle with.

  Anyway, there’s going to be lots of adventures ahead, I hope. And I especially hope that they’re going to include a husband and you two little ones! To get to hold you will be my greatest moment!

  Signing off, my little Fifi and Fox.

  I wonder why I always say Fifi and Fox and never Fox and Fifi? I guess because it’s the way I’ve always said it.

  Anyway, really going now.

  Anna (your future mum!)

  I think if anyone ever found these letters, they would think I was totally nuts! X

  Anna knew her eighteenth birthday would be a big deal, but she was still a little overawed when Junior made his grand entrance into the recreation room.

  ‘Okay, okay! Quiet, everyone!’ He glanced round, taking in the kids lounging on the sofas and the others lying on their tummies on the rug, chins in palms, watching TV.

  Anna settled back in her chair as they all made their way over to the scruffy table in the middle of the rec room. It was dappled with dots of stubborn plasticine in a rainbow of colours and doodles from a thousand biros and felt-tipped pens. That not one of the sixteen kids needed to be asked twice was testament to Anna’s popularity at Mead House. Everyone knew what was coming next, but even though there was a general rolling of eyes and the odd sigh at the predictability, there was still a buzz of excitement at the diversion. And why wouldn’t there be, at the prospect of chocolate cake?

  Someone flicked the wall switch and the overhead striplight went out, plunging them into semi-darkness. One or two of the younger kids gave a mock scream.

  ‘Haa-ppy birthday to you!’ Junior began singing, holding out the rectangular chocolate tray bakes that he was balancing in each hand.

  The kids joined in, some of them more tunefully than others. Anna didn’t care how good their singing was, it just felt lovely to see the younger kids so excited. It was never going to be the same as having a birthday with their mum or dad, but at least it was something. She remembered the way her mum used rush into her bedroom with a whoop of joy. ‘It’s your birthday, Anna Bee! Wake up! Wake up, my baby girl!’ And she’d flop down and wrap her in an enormous hug, trapping her inside the duvet and smothering her face with kisses. Anna always woke up way before her mum’s arrival, but she always played along, pretending to be asleep, knowing this was part of the fun.

  Today, as on every birthday, Anna thought of her dad, now the only person on the planet other than her cousin Jordan who might have some interest in this milestone day. But of course he might not. She didn’t know how much he knew about her. It was a continual frustration that there was no one she could ask.

  She hadn’t given up on her quest to find him, despite the abortive attempt at Waterloo station. Quite the opposite, in fact. Her longing for him coloured everything. She was certain her life would be better with her dad in it. If her mum had loved him, then she knew she would too. She just needed to track him down. So she’d come up with a careful strategy, which she deployed at least twice a week, often dragging a reluctant Shania along to assist.

  She would wait at any busy junction, or wherever she saw a convenient stopping point, and hail a cab. If, as it got closer, the driver was revealed to be a woman, she would simply step back and wave it on, much to the driver’s annoyance, and the same if he was not the dark-haired, white-skinned man of her imagination. If, however, he did look right, she’d wait for him to wind down the window and ask ‘Where to?’ and then she’d reply with ‘What’s your name?’ Some answered, and one or two were even called Mick or Michael, but they weren’t him. Others told her to ‘Clear off! Bloody idiot!’ and one even threatened to call the police for wasting the time of a working man. She wasn’t sure this was actually a crime, but it had the desired effect and she laid off her search for a few weeks.

  ‘Happy birthday, dear An-nnaaaa!’ The song reached its crescendo with some of the kids going for a falsetto finale for comic effect. ‘Happy birthday to yooooo!’

  She bent forward over the large square table. Taking a deep breath, she held her hair flat on both sides and moved her head from left to right, blowing out the candles.

  ‘Make a wish!’ came shouts from the floor. ‘Make a wish!’

  Anna closed her eyes and thought hard. Should she wish for a wad of cash, a new suitcase? No. I wish... I wish... my dad would come and find me.

  The light was flicked back on and the two chocolate cakes were divided up, overseen by a couple of the girls, who monitored the cutting to make sure everyone had an equal-sized piece. For kids for whom life had been anything but orderly and fair, these small things felt important. They were important.

  Junior raised his slice of cake, nestling in a paper napkin in his palm. ‘Happy eighteenth birthday, Anna! I can’t believe how fast time flies, it feels like only weeks ago that you arrived on our doorstep, looking a little lost, a little afraid.’

  She stared into her lap. I wasn’t a little lost, a little afraid – I was completely lost and absolutely petrified.

  She blinked now, sitting at the table in the recreation room on this her last night at Mead House, try
ing to quiet her thoughts, concentrating again on Junior’s words.

  ‘And yet here you are, nearly four years later, Anna, and you’re about to leave us and go out into the big, wide world.’ He nodded at her. ‘You have always set yourself apart by your hard work. The way you study and apply yourself is inspirational, and yes...’ He raised his free hand. ‘I know this is not the time or place for us to reopen the great university debate – you have made your decision and I respect it. Reluctantly!’ He gave a small laugh.

  She smiled at him. Her mind was indeed set; she was certain that the single most important thing she could do was to find a job, earn some money, secure a roof over her head and grow from there. It was all about self-reliance. The last few years had taught her that it was vital that she never be in a position where she had no home and no income. University, no matter how attractive a proposition, would only delay putting this safety net in place. University was for other people, not girls like her.

  Junior’s tone was now sincere. ‘We shall all miss you.’

  Anna looked at the nodding heads of the other kids around the table. She saw them – and herself – as being like the dented tins left last on the shelf, the ones no one really wanted because they didn’t know or care what wonderful things might be contained within.

  ‘But it’s important you know that we are here if you need us. And please come back for tea – I promise your name won’t be on the rota for dishes.’

  Everyone laughed.

  ‘Thank you, Junior. For my cake. For everything. I shall miss you all too.’ She crumpled the napkin in her palm.

  ‘As ever, a girl of few words.’ He smiled at her.

  Quiet with a busy head...

  ‘A woman of few words now, if you don’t mind!’ Shania, her friend and roommate, shouted.

  ‘Yes, good point. Here’s to Anna!’ Junior raised his cake slice as a toast.

  ‘To Anna!’

  ‘Anna!’

  ‘Anna!’

  The other kids, her family for the last few years, followed suit, holding what was left of their cake and toasting her last day in care.