by Sufiya Ahmed
“I played some pranks, and I don’t think they will want me back now.”
“They will.”
“They won’t.”
“Then call Poo and tell her to collect you.”
I stare at my sister. I can’t believe she would rather I was sent back to Sunshine House.
“Alisha…” I plead.
She refuses to listen.
“No, Ruby.”
And then to my utter horror, she steps back and slams the door.
Refusing to accept this rejection from my own flesh and blood, I hammer the door with my fist again and again.
“Hey, kid! Enough!” A woman from a top floor window peers out at me.
I scowl. “I need to speak with my sister!”
“Doesn’t look like she wants anything to do with you though, does it?”
And that is the truth.
It hits me like a tidal wave.
Alisha does not want me. It is not the case that she can’t have me, it’s actually that she’s washed her hands of me.
I need to get away from here.
I walk away, blindly. Where can I go? I don’t have anywhere to go. I have burned my bridges with the fosters, and I don’t have a phone to call Poo. I am homeless, just like all those people at the train station.
I think about going to the train station to join them for the night, but it is too far to walk, and I don’t have any money for the bus. As it’s a summer’s night, I decide to spend the night in the park.
Yes, this is a good plan. I’ll make my way to a police station tomorrow where I’ll ask them to call Poo. I’m not sure where the station is but I’m sure people will direct me.
The park is near empty except for a group of boys playing football in a far corner. I slump down under a tree and stare up at the changing sky. The blue of the day has given way to orange and red colours, giving it an appearance of flames. The sun disappears slowly off the horizon, just like the hope that I’d had in my heart to be with my sister.
I pull Bug out of the carrier bag to hug him. I wish my mum were here. The thought of her releases the tears that I’ve tried to keep at bay. Not once did I cry after separating from Alisha, but now I just can’t keep them in. Big fat tears roll down my cheeks. And for the first time in my life, Alisha is not with me to wipe them. As my shoulders heave, it hits me that I have rejected other people’s kindness because I believed Alisha would be there for me. But she’s not.
Jim and Cheryl were so nice to me. Nobody else had ever bought halal meat for my meals. They pretended that fairies existed to excuse my pranks, and they tolerated the unmatched socks, the glue and the snails.
Fresh tears flow as I realise that I’ve lost my only chance of a nice home. I will now spend my time living in Sunshine House until I’m eighteen. All alone.
Soon, the boys in the park disappear one by one. I pull up my knees to my chin and wrap my arms around my legs. There is a slight chill now and the trees whisper amongst themselves. When the lamps glow to their full brightness, I notice a shadow of a man watching me from a distance. I need to keep awake, but I feel so tired. I’ve walked so much today and then all the crying has completely exhausted me. Perhaps just a little sleep…
“Young lady! Young lady! Wake up!”
I squint against the light of the torch. “What?”
“Ruby Ali?” the voice says.
I scramble to my feet. That is when I realise the two people peering at me are police officers, a man and a woman.
“You’re trespassing,” the policeman says sternly. “This is a park that closes at nine pm. The caretaker saw you and called it in.”
“I was just resting.”
“Come on, Ruby.” The policewoman’s voice is gentle.
“How do you know my name?” I demand.
“Your foster parents reported you missing.”
“What? Why?”
“Because they want you back,” says the policeman.
ANOTHER MISSION
The front door is yanked open before the police car comes to a halt outside Number 65 Drummond Street.
My stomach flutters nervously when I see Cheryl running down the drive with Jim close behind.
“Out you get, Missy,” the policewoman says.
I climb out of the back seat and stand silently on the pavement, eyes down.
“Where did you find her?” Jim demands in a strange, strangled voice.
“Park,” the policeman answers. “Caretaker called it in.”
“In the park!” Cheryl exclaims. “Oh my goodness, that was so dangerous. Ruby, it was not safe for you to be there at such a late hour. What if something had happened to you? There are all sorts of horrid people who could take advantage of you.”
I peep through my lashes. “Sorry.”
My words are enough for Cheryl to leap forward and grab me into her arms. At first, I freeze. How can I not? It is a default reaction. I’m not used to being hugged by anyone other than Alisha. Cheryl has grabbed me twice before and both times she sensed my unease and let go. Not this time. Despite standing in her arms like a statue, she refuses to release me. For once I choose not to push her away and, grasping that, she squeezes me even tighter.
“Shall we go inside?” Jim says. His voice seems to have returned to its normal pitch. “It’s rather dark out here.”
Cheryl finally lets me go and stands with her arm around my shoulders. I can’t bring myself to look up at him. I think he senses my discomfort because he says, “It’s OK, Ruby, the fairies failed to break my laptop. They downloaded a prank app.”
That untimely, annoying lump is back in my throat again. I swallow hard and nod.
“After you,” the policeman says.
We walk inside to sit in the living room.
“Poonam is on her way,” Cheryl says. “I rang her as soon as we got the call that you’ve been found.”
The policeman looks down at me. “Why did you run away from home?”
“I went to see my big sister…” my voice trails off.
“And?” the policeman wants to know.
I shrug. I don’t want to say it aloud that Alisha rejected me. If I do that, then I’ll l be admitting that I’m all alone in the world.
The doorbell saves me from any more questions from the police. Poo is here. Well, even if I never have anyone else in the world again, I know I’ll always have Poo. The sudden realisation makes me feel a burst of warmth for Poo. She is the one person who has remained constant in our lives. Right from the very first time when she gathered me in her arms and walked out of the flat that smelled of death.
Before the police had found us, Alisha and I had been hungry for days. A neighbour had finally heard Alisha’s banging on the locked front door and raised the alarm. Poo had been the first one there with the police. And here she is again, in her blue flowery dress over a pair of skinny jeans and blue converse.
“Hello, Ruby.”
“Hello, Poo,” I reply.
I can’t help feeling a little bad. I know she has children of her own, and she’s had to leave them to rush here in the night.
“Right, well, why don’t we all go in the kitchen and have a cup of tea,” the policewoman suggests.
I get up, suddenly feeling famished. I have not eaten since breakfast.
“Not you,” the policewoman says. “You and your social worker need to talk.”
I sit back down as the others leave.
Poo stands by the window. “Are you OK?”
I nod.
“Where did you go before you were found at the park?”
“To Alisha’s house,” I answer.
“Why?”
“To be with her.”
“So how did you end up in the park?”
Poo is going to make me say it. I take a deep breath and rush the words out. “Because she didn’t want me.”
“How did that make you feel?”
Upset. Terrified. Abandoned.
I choose a less lo
aded word. “Alone.”
“But you’re not alone, are you, Ruby?” Poo says. “Cheryl and Jim are very good foster parents, aren’t they?”
I cannot deny it. “Yes. They are the best.”
Poo sits down on the sofa next to me. “What am I going to do with you?”
I shrug.
“Do you still want to live with Alisha?”
I shrug again, trying not to look like it bothers me, but I am sure the tremble in my voice gives me away. “She slammed the door in my face.”
“Oh baby.” Poo leans over and gathers me in her arms.
For the second time tonight, I don’t push the other person away. “Do you think Cheryl and Jim still want me?” I whisper.
Poo leans back and takes hold of my face between her two hands. I want to look away, but Poo’s grip is firm.
“Cheryl and Jim love having you here,” she says. “They want to provide a home for you. Can’t you see that?”
I realise it then. The fairies were all about making this house my home.
“I would really like to stay here,” I admit.
Poo lets go of my face. I watch as she pulls her phone out of her bag.
“They’re only in the kitchen,” I say. “I could just call the fosters and the police.”
“Not them I’m calling.” Poo presses a button and when the call is answered, says, “Come through the front door, I’ve left it ajar.”
Who is Poo talking to? I see for myself when Alisha steps into the living room.
“Hey Rubes.”
My heart hammers in my chest. I’m not sure that I want to see or speak to my big sister just yet. I sink back into the sofa.
“Sulking with me, are you?” Alisha says lightly.
“No,” I deny.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” she says.
I shrug, avoiding her eyes.
“So, this looks like a nice place,” Alisha says, trying to make conversation. “Poo said they even make halal meals for you. You’re lucky.”
I refuse to respond, and the room soon fills with an awkward silence.
It is Poo who finally breaks it. “How’s the world treating you, Alisha?”
“Harder than I thought it would be,” she automatically replies.
“Did you hear that, Ruby?” Poo says. “Alisha’s finding it hard to make her way in the world. She has a job as a waitress, and she works really hard, long into the night. She lives in a bedsit which is all she can afford. Don’t you want her to build her life up properly first?”
I shrug again.
“Well, then let her go,” Poo says gently. “Don’t make her feel guilty about trying to live her life.”
“But…” I protest. When did I try to make Alisha feel guilty?
“Alisha rang me in tears after your visit,” Poo says. “She felt bad for turning you away. She wanted me to explain how hard it would be for her to look after you.”
I look up at Alisha. She cried? My big sister never cries.
“Rubes, I will always be your big sister,” Alisha says. “Always. You’ll never be alone.”
“You’ll always be my big sister?” I repeat in a trembling voice.
“How can you even ask that?” Alisha demands, dragging me into her arms for a tight hug. “Always. We’re flesh and blood.”
I hug Alisha back. I wish I didn’t have to let go, but I know now that I must. She needs to build her life, just like I will when I turn eighteen.
“I love you,” I say when we step back from each other.
“I love you too, Rubes,” Alisha responds.
Poo gets to her feet. “Right, that’s settled then. Ruby, call the others.”
I pop my head out of the door. “Cheryl, Jim?”
The four adults walk back in.
The policeman looks around. “How are we doing then?”
“We’re all good,” Poo replies, “This is Alisha, by the way. Ruby’s big sister.”
Alisha raises a hand in greeting.
The officers nod and then turn to leave. “We’ll be off then.”
“Bye and thank you,” I suddenly blurt.
They look at me in surprise and then the policewoman beams. “You’re very welcome. Stay safe.”
And then they are gone.
“Alisha,” Cheryl suddenly says as Poo and Alisha get ready to leave. “Would you like to come for Sunday lunch? I’m roasting a halal chicken for Ruby and I think it’ll be too big for her to finish.”
Alisha’s eyes look a bit moist, but then she blinks, and they are dry again. “I would love that. Thank you.”
“Lunch is at one thirty. See you then.”
Poo pats Cheryl’s back. “You’re one of the good eggs. See ya.”
Alisha hugs me by the door. “You’ll be alright, kid. I promise. The fosters seem really nice, and I’ll try to come and see you when I can.”
“You promise to come on Sunday?”
“I won’t miss it for the world,” Alisha reassures. “I’m so bored of ramen.”
“I’ve been feeling really guilty about all the nice meals because you’re missing out,” I admit.
Alisha sighs. “Stop doing that. I am living my life and you need to live yours.”
I nod and she gives me one last quick hug before disappearing through the door. Then it is just me and the fosters again.
I run a hand through my untidy hair. “Could you take me to your hairdresser soon?” I ask shyly. “My hair could do with a trim.”
Cheryl looks like she will burst with happiness. She nods enthusiastically.
“Are you hungry?” Jim asks, putting an arm around Cheryl.
“So much,” I admit.
“Well let’s get you a glass of milk and some food,” he says.
I follow the fosters into the kitchen and sit down at the table. There is a warm feeling inside me, and I embrace it. It is new and it is all because I finally know that I’m not alone. I never have been. Alisha will always be there. So will Poo. And I am living with the nicest fosters. Who knows? Perhaps they will let me stay until I turn eighteen.
READING ZONE!
QUIZ TIME
Can you remember the answers to these questions?
• Why is Alisha no longer allowed to be in care with Ruby?
• What was the last thing that Ruby’s mum gave to her?
• What is Ruby expecting Jim to do when he finds all his odd socks?
• Why does Ruby play so many pranks on the fosters?
• How did the police officers know Ruby’s name?
READING ZONE!
GET CREATIVE
Ruby and Alisha have played lots of pranks on their different foster parents. Have you ever played a prank on anyone? Has it worked or did it backfire?
Choose a prank from the book or think of your own. Write a set of instructions to show someone else how to play the same prank. Can you think of some ways to ensure the prank doesn’t backfire?
READING ZONE!
STORYTELLING TOOLKIT
The author does not start the book by telling us why Ruby and Alisha are in care. As the story moves on, we find out details about them. These details give us a clear picture of Ruby and Alisha’s life and add to our emotions at the end of the story.
This is a good skill to use in your own writing; feed the details of characters to your reader throughout the story rather than giving everything away in the first paragraph.
BLOOMSBURY EDUCATION
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This electronic edition published in 2021 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
BLOOMSBURY, BLOOMSBURY EDUCATION and the Diana logo are trademarks of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
First published in Great Britain in 2021 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
Text copyright © Sufiya Ahmed, 2021
Illustrations copyright © Parwinder Singh, 2021
&n
bsp; Sufiya Ahmed and Parwinder Singh have asserted their rights under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as Author and Illustrator of this work
This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publishers
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN: PB: 978-1-4729-9317-5; ePDF: 978-1-4729-9316-8; ePub: 978-1-4729-9315-1
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