Broken

by Rosie Lewis

  I drew a forefinger under my watering eye and leaned down. ‘Just give her some time, Meggie. It looks to me like Bobbi doesn’t want a cuddle right now.’

  Affronted, Megan scowled and took an angry bite of her apple. Bobbi caught my sleeve and waggled it. ‘I said, I want chocolate!’

  ‘I don’t have any on me, Bobs,’ I said, catching sight of Archie as he crossed the playground towards us. I pulled an apple out of my coat pocket and held it out to her. ‘Have this for now and maybe we’ll have chocolate pudding after dinner. What do you think?’

  She smacked the apple out of my hand and sent it spinning up into the air. To my amazement, after a few staggers this way and that, Archie caught it in his outstretched hand. He gave a shout of glee and jogged over to us, a beaming smile on his face. ‘That was unbelievable, Archie,’ I said, laughing. I rubbed his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

  ‘You wait till I tell Jamie!’ he said with a smile. ‘He’ll think it’s so cool!’

  Megan waved her arms in the air, meeting Archie’s outstretched hands in a high five. Singularly unimpressed, Bobbi screeched all the way along the road and was still whining when I helped her into the car. ‘Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate!’ she screamed angrily, arching her back and making it difficult for me to secure her seatbelt around her.

  ‘Bobbi, I don’t have any chocolate,’ I said, keeping my voice even. ‘But if you sit nicely you can have one of those chocolate puddings you like after tea, okay? And you can help me make some chocolate custard to go with it if you like.’

  ‘I. WANT. IT. NOW!’ she screamed. She pulled her glasses off and threw them at me, her cheeks turning puce. I folded them without a word, slipped them into my coat pocket and then strapped the seatbelt around her again. As soon as I did, she pressed on the catch and released it, her contorted features loosening with satisfaction.

  ‘You won’t have it at all if we can’t get home,’ I warned, still blinking to soothe my smarting eye.

  The pantomime continued for the next fifteen minutes. Every time I drove a few yards she popped the button on her seat belt so that I had to pull over onto the side of the road. After several stops I sat in my seat and pulled my fingers through my hair. I was unsure what to do. I was half-tempted to pull over and go the rest of the way on foot. Tired, Bobbi would be unimpressed with that, so it might deter her in the future. On the other hand, it was freezing outside and Archie and Megan were exhausted as well. Megan yawned as I pulled over for the umpteenth time, her head wobbling as she tried to stay awake. I felt a stab of guilt. Fostering was hard on your own children sometimes.

  ‘Sorry, Meggie, sorry, Archie,’ I said as I leaned into the car. ‘We’ll soon be home.’ Megan nodded and rested her head against the cold glass of the window.

  ‘It’s not your fault, Rosie,’ Archie said kindly before taking another bite of his apple.

  It was as I climbed back into my seat that I noticed something floating across the windscreen. I squinted, my heart sinking at the sight of smoke rising from the engine. ‘Right, that’s it,’ I announced, almost grateful that the decision had been made for me. ‘We’re walking the rest of the way.’ We were only two roads from home, three hundred yards at the most. I grabbed my bag and climbed out of the car to a chorus of groans.

  Bobbi’s jaw dropped when I opened the rear door. ‘Walking?’ she said in a disbelieving tone. ‘Why walking?’

  ‘Because it’s not safe to ride in a car with no seatbelt on,’ I said in a mild, matter-of-fact tone. I shivered and zipped up my coat. The wind was bitingly cold and it was already getting dark.

  ‘Bobbi!’ Archie and Megan groaned in unison. ‘It’s your fault we’ve got to walk.’

  I held out a hand to help Bobbi out of her car seat but she shrank away. ‘I won’t take my seat belt off no more, Rosie,’ she said. ‘I promise.’

  ‘No, I gave you lots of chances,’ I said briskly, shaking my head. ‘Now we walk.’

  ‘To be honest, Rosie, any child who’s been exposed to five minutes of MTV might do something like that,’ Danny said, when I telephoned him later that afternoon. ‘Kids are bombarded with sexual images from the minute they wake up. Music videos, billboards. Christ, only this morning I saw a woman’s naked bottom stretched across the side of a bus. What you’ve told me isn’t indicative of anything really, in itself. Schools have a duty to be vigilant, but we get reports like this coming in almost every day. Unless Bobbi tells you something explicit, I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Read My Underpants Rule to her so that she understands boundaries, but don’t go quizzing her.’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t do that,’ I said, uneasy with Danny’s dismissal of the incident.

  ‘By the way, before you go,’ Danny continued, ‘the kids’ dad, James Brady, has been in for a meeting and his police check has come through all clear, so contact’s been arranged for this Saturday. There aren’t any safety issues so would it be okay to pass on your address and phone number? He’d like to pick them up around nine.’

  ‘Oh, surely not Saturday, Danny? We’re usually busy at weekends.’

  ‘I know, sorry, but he can’t do weekdays. He’s a doorman, he can’t see the kids after school and make it back in time for work.’

  ‘I don’t mind if you pass on my details but –’

  Before I had a chance to continue, Danny thanked me and ended the call. I stood in the hall with the receiver in my hand, the dialling tone buzzing through the air. Weekend contact was a frequent bone of contention between social workers and foster carers – it wasn’t unusual for contact sessions to be double-booked and cancelled at the last minute, contact supervisors were notoriously unreliable, and birth parents often didn’t even bother to turn up – but I told myself I shouldn’t really complain, not yet.

  Archie was keen to see his father and there was a chance that contact between them would work well. At least, I thought to myself, Bobbi and Archie would be thrilled when I told them.

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was two very excited children that I left under Emily’s watchful eye early on Saturday 7 February, while I walked to fetch my car. It was another freezing day and the pavements were glistening with frost, the tips of my socks already soggy inside my boots and clinging uncomfortably to my toes. Stiff with cold, my fingers fumbled clumsily with the catch to release the bonnet of my car.

  It was as I leaned over the engine that I first heard them; male and female voices tumbling over one another so that, even as they drew closer, it was difficult to distinguish anything that was being said. There was an urgency to their tones that made my stomach tighten, though, and the muscles in my legs began to tense.

  I straightened at the sound of footsteps and risked a glance over my shoulder. A woman wearing tight leggings, high-heeled ankle boots and a cream fur coat rounded the corner at speed, closely followed by a coatless, heavy-set man, who was trying to grab her arm. Swearing loudly, she span away and flailed out her arms, nearly losing her handbag in the process. I only glanced at them for a second or two, but the snapshot in my mind was one of a prostitute and either a dissatisfied client or her pimp.

  Either way, I didn’t want to bring attention to myself. I ducked my head quickly back under the bonnet and made a vague attempt at loosening the oil cap. I grasped the cap and twisted hard, aware that their footsteps were slowing and their voices fading away. Slowly I straightened and saw that they were looking directly at me. ‘Oh, hello,’ I said lightly, as if I’d only just noticed them.

  ‘Will you be wanting a hand there, darlin’?’ the man said, peering over my shoulder at the engine. His thick southern Irish accent was so informal and friendly that the picture I had drawn of him in my head vanished instantly.

  I smiled. ‘It’s okay, thank you. I’m just trying to get the oil cap off.’

  ‘Will I give it a try? They can be a bit stiff.’

  ‘Oh no, I wouldn’t want you to get mucky.’ I held out my oily hands and looked down at the black residue c
linging to my unzipped coat and jumper.

  ‘I’ll not be bothered about that,’ he said, waving me out of the way. He leaned over the bonnet and released the cap easily, his companion looking bored on the pavement behind him. Her inky black hair was glossy with wax and pulled back, Beyoncé style, from her face, her sharply defined brows prominent above her dramatically outlined eyes.

  ‘That’s wonderful, thank you,’ I said with a grateful smile. He nodded, handed the cap to me and turned to walk away, but when I leaned down to pick up the carton of oil from the pavement that I’d brought from home he stopped abruptly.

  ‘Now what would you be doing with that?’ he asked, taking a few steps towards me. The dark-haired woman stayed where she was and sighed loudly.

  I looked from the carton to him. ‘I’m going to put it in the engine,’ I said slowly, unable to comprehend why he was so interested.

  ‘Jaysus Christ! You can’t be serious!’ He grabbed the container roughly. I stared at him with my mouth open.

  ‘You can’t do that!’ he raged. ‘The engine’ll seize up.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ I took the container back from him and stared at the label. ‘It says engine oil here.’

  ‘It’s bloody two stroke, look,’ he said, jabbing a finger at the label. ‘For lawn mowers and the like. Jaysus!’ He was shaking his head and speaking with a tone of such exasperation that he sounded almost offended, as if he’d caught me in the act of trying to poison one of his children. ‘Someone sell this to you for your car, did they?’

  ‘No, I found it in the shed.’

  ‘She found it in the shed,’ he parroted to his companion, as if she might find the admission hilarious. She stared at him stony-faced and then blew on her fingers, making a show of the fact that she was feeling cold.

  He turned slowly away from her and fixed me with narrowed eyes. ‘Your oil light came on, you say?’

  ‘Erm, no.’

  ‘What makes you think you even need oil then?’

  I hesitated, beginning to feel a bit defensive. ‘The engine was smoking yesterday. I just assumed that I needed a bit of a top-up.’

  ‘A bit of a top-up?’ he repeated disbelievingly. It was a revelation that heralded another telling-off. ‘A bit of a top-up, she says! You can’t just guess a thing like that! Especially when you’ve got young kiddies.’ I frowned. He raised his eyebrows, indicating the car seats in the back.

  ‘Oh, yes, well normally I take it in for a half-service but I’ve been busy and –’ I stopped, watching as he turned and leaned over the bonnet again. ‘Got a cloth, have you?’ he said, pulling on the dipstick and lifting it into the air. I shook my head. ‘Trace, got a tissue there?’ She glared at him.

  ‘Don’t worry, I can check it later,’ I said, feeling bad for holding him up.

  ‘S’alright,’ he said, running the probe through his armpit. His companion’s mouth contorted in disgust. After re-dipping the probe, he lifted it up to examine it and then tutted loudly. ‘Unbelievable!’ he exclaimed, shaking his head again. ‘Bone dry. Look.’ He shoved the incriminating evidence in front of my face. ‘Not a drop on it. Another half a mile and you’d have blown your engine.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I said automatically. ‘Thank goodness you were passing.’

  He nodded and grunted, as if he’d accepted my apology, but only grudgingly. Considering he’d been a complete stranger to me minutes earlier, the whole situation felt a bit surreal. ‘Tell you what, I’ve got a Fiat meself and a couple of litres of oil in my boot.’ He pulled out his phone and started tapping on the screen. ‘I’ll check to see if your’n is compatible with mine –’ he glanced up from his handset and looked at me. ‘There are different oils for different engines, you see. You can’t go mixing them.’

  ‘Ah.’

  He held my gaze for a second and looked at me thoughtfully, as if wondering whether I was all there, then glanced back at his screen. ‘Yep, it’ll be alright with yours. I’m parked in the next road but one,’ he said, already walking away. The dark-haired woman rolled her eyes again, pulled her handbag higher onto her shoulder and flounced off after him.

  ‘Let me give you something for that,’ I insisted a few minutes later, as he emptied the last few drops of his own oil into my car. ‘I’ll dash home and get my bag. I only live around the block.’

  ‘Away with you,’ he said, slipping his arm around his companion and propelling her across the pavement. She scowled and shrugged him off.

  I watched the unusual pair as they walked away, marvelling as I often did at the generosity of strangers.

  I was in my bedroom and changing out of my oil-smeared top when the doorbell rang. I frowned. It was just before half past eight and James Brady wasn’t due for another half an hour or so. I opened the door, my hair still tucked into the collar of a clean jumper. ‘Oh, it’s you!’ I exclaimed, recognising the man who had stopped to help me with my car.

  ‘Oh, for the love of God!’ James Brady exclaimed, his eyes wide. ‘Would you bloody believe it?’ He turned to the dark-haired woman, who was standing at his side. ‘It’s the oil fiend,’ he said. He grinned, but one of his eyelids flickered. He hadn’t seen his children for months, and I sensed that he was eager for the wait to be over.

  I laughed. His companion smiled for the first time then, though not with any warmth. Despite the heavy make-up she was wearing her skin was pale and I thought perhaps she was still resentful that she’d had to wait around in the freezing cold while her partner dabbled with my car.

  ‘It’s nice to meet you properly, Mr Brady,’ I said, shaking his hand. ‘I’m so grateful for earlier, really. Please, come in. You look so cold.’

  ‘This is Tracy, by the way, the other half,’ he said, joining me in the hall. ‘And call me Jimmy.’

  ‘Down the end,’ I called after him, though he was already half-jogging down the hall. Tracy remained just inside the front door, checking her appearance in the mirror. She turned her face from side to side and rolled her lips in on themselves. ‘Nice to meet you too, Tracy,’ I said when she turned around. She gave me a disinterested smile and smoothed her hair.

  ‘Sorry we’re so early; we live fifty miles away, you see,’ Jimmy said, running his eyes around our open-plan living area. ‘We sat outside for a while in the car then went for a walk. Good job we did as it turned out.’

  ‘Well, yes,’ I said with an embarrassed grin. ‘The children are still getting dressed. They’ll be down in –’

  ‘Daddy!’ Bobbi screeched, her footsteps hammering on the stairs.

  ‘Ahh, come here, you little darlin’,’ Jimmy called out. Bobbi ran into the living area and Jimmy’s eyes filled with tears. He strode forward. ‘Oh, would you look at those glasses! You look so cute, darling!’ Grabbing her sides, he swung her high above his head. She giggled and shrieked, pleading for more when he finally lowered her to her feet. ‘That’s enough for now, my girl,’ he said, crouching down so that his face was level with hers. ‘God, I’ve missed you so much.’ They rubbed noses and then he shifted his weight and pulled her onto his lap. Somewhere in his late thirties, Jimmy had an open, slightly careworn face and closely cropped hair. He was so burly and strong looking that it was easy to imagine him sorting out drunken revellers on a Friday night. He beamed at Bobbi with the enthusiasm of little boy though, warmth oozing from every pore.

  Tracy, in contrast, stood at a distance with her arms folded around the fur coat she had just removed, her lips pressed tightly together. She watched silently as Jimmy lavished affection on his daughter, the smile on her lips still devoid of any real warmth. She was an attractive woman and from her svelte figure and unlined skin, I guessed that she couldn’t have been more than twenty-eight, at most.

  ‘Hi, Dad,’ came a quiet voice behind me. Archie had been thrilled when I told him that Danny had managed to contact his father, but it had been six months since they’d last seen each other and shyness seemed to have overtaken him. He stood at my side, his head close to my shou
lder.

  Jimmy looked up. His eyes were shining with emotion. ‘Come here then, fella. Let me have a look at you.’ Easing Bobbi off his lap, he beckoned his son over.

  Having been ousted, Bobbi ran over to Tracy and hugged her. ‘Hi, Bobbi,’ Tracy said in a tight voice, patting the child mechanically on the back. Bobbi started jumping up and down on the tips of Tracy’s high-heeled boots and grasping at the wrap-over top she was wearing. ‘Careful,’ Tracy said, adjusting herself and looking annoyed.

  Archie glanced at Tracy as he made his way over to his father. ‘Hello, Tracy,’ he said politely.

  ‘Hi, Archie,’ she said, offering him a brittle smile.

  I coughed. ‘Can I get either of you a hot drink to warm you up?’

  Jimmy, who had enfolded Archie in a bear hug, opened his mouth to speak, but Tracy quickly cut in. ‘We really need to get going,’ she said.

  With their exams fast approaching, Emily and Jamie spent the day in their respective rooms, emerging periodically when they grew peckish. It was lovely to spend some one-to-one time with Megan, and the hours flew by quickly. She began flagging mid-afternoon, so around three o’clock I suggested a ride on her scooter to the corner shop, so that she could choose a magazine. We were just pulling on our coats when the doorbell rang.

  I was surprised to find Jimmy standing on the doorstep, one arm draped over each of his children’s shoulders. Bobbi looked close to tears and Archie was pale. ‘Oh, hello!’ I said, standing aside to let them in. I peered outside but there was no sign of Tracy. ‘You’re lucky you caught us actually. We weren’t expecting you back so soon.’

  ‘No,’ Jimmy said, as the three of them came into the hall. ‘I meant to call but I forgot to programme your number into my phone.’

  I hesitated. ‘Tracy not with you?’

  ‘Nah, she’s in the car.’ He spoke quietly, with no trace of his earlier enthusiasm. ‘She developed an aura about half an hour back. It means a migraine’s on the way. We have to get home before it properly hits. She gets them bad, you see.’