Big Frank came slowly, almost shyly, towards Poppy and her mum. He hugged them both. Irena had tears in her eyes.
‘Did good, did I?’
‘You know you did,’ said Poppy proudly. She’d never seen her dad shy like this before. She pushed forward Jude and Will and Angel. ‘They all thought you were terrific, too.’
‘A long way for you to come.’ Big Frank shook all their hands. ‘You know, they always say an actor is only as good as his director, but I think the audience is what really matters.’
So they told him again and again just how cool he was, until he held up his hands in protest. ‘I can feel my head swelling by the minute. How about sampling those biscuits I can see over there? Long time since I’ve seen a festive array like that.’
‘Well, it’s not long till Christmas,’ said Lennie, coming over with her son and husband who, of course, Frank knew already since he was a prisoner too.
‘Wise old Bob,’ said Frank, clapping him on the shoulder, ‘kept off the stage and on the lighting board. It’s him I have to thank for my share of the spotlight.’
‘My pleasure.’ Bob bowed jokily. He looked remarkably like an older version of his son, with the same shaved head, except that he had a scar down one side of his face. ‘Couldn’t have highlighted a fitter lad, could I.’
At which point, they all took off for the biscuits, which were disappearing at an alarming rate. ‘Not your usual prison fare,’ said Angel knowingly.
Poppy frowned. Amid all the excitement she couldn’t quite forget that her dad was in prison, and he shouldn’t be, because he was innocent. That’s what she’d always thought. She stared at his cheery, beaming face. At that moment he looked up too, and caught her eye.
He came over. ‘All right, Pops, darling?’ His blue eyes beamed at her lovingly.
Poppy took a deep breath. If she didn’t ask him now, she never would. She glanced round; no one was near them.
‘What is it?’ asked Big Frank, still smiling. ‘Would you like another orange juice?’
‘Dad,’ Poppy hesitated, gulped, ‘Dad, did you really do what they say you did? The reason you’re in prison. Did you really do something very bad? Or are you innocent, like I think? I need to know, Dad, I really do.’
As Poppy was speaking, Frank’s expression changed. Now he was absolutely serious. He took her hand. ‘Oh, Poppy. My own Pops. You’re right. I do have to tell you. I owe you that. I’ve been cowardly. I’ve been ashamed. . .’
Poppy began to suspect what was coming. One part of her wanted to scream and put her hands over her ears. But even more, she knew she needed the truth. ‘Tell me, Dad.’
Big Frank began slowly, pausing between each short sentence as if he had to make an effort with every word. ‘It was about money. I wasn’t earning. Lost my job. Years ago, long before I met your mum, I’d been involved with bad people. Spent time inside.’
‘Inside!’ Poppy whispered, horrified. ‘You’ve been in prison before?’
Frank nodded miserably. ‘I was only a lad. Led astray. But I should have known better, once I had your mum and you. I just thought of the money. I thought I’d buy you things. . .’
‘Oh, Dad.’
‘It was hard, your mum earning what money we had. No excuse, though. I should never have done it, for every reason in the world. Worst of all, it put me in here. Left you two alone.’ Frank’s voice faltered to a stop. What did you do?’ This was the question she’d never dared ask her mum.
‘I smuggled drugs. I’m a drug smuggler. A failed drug smuggler.’ Frank bowed his head. ‘Caught the first time I was out. Customs had a tip-off. What a fool! How stupid can you be!’ He lifted his head and looked directly at Poppy. ‘Oh, my darling, can you ever forgive me?’
Poppy wouldn’t look at him. Her hero – a drug smuggler!
‘So you’re not innocent at all. You’re guilty.’ She said the word ‘guilty’ loudly and clearly.
Frank winced. ‘Yes.’ He paused before saying again, ‘Can you ever forgive me? Or, if you can’t do that, love me a little?’
Poppy thought about this. Children shouldn’t have to forgive their dads. It shouldn’t be like this. Then she thought how she’d hung on to the idea that Big Frank was innocent even when everything pointed to his guilt. She’d wanted him to be innocent because she loved him. But could she love him now he’d confessed that he was guilty?
She felt muddled and anxious. Still avoiding her dad’s eyes, she turned, and immediately saw her mum. Irena was watching them both, her eyes filled ‘with love. She must have been through the same feelings when she’d found out that her special, wonderful husband was guilty. Probably, Poppy guessed, she’d known it from the moment he was arrested. Probably he’d told her. But she still loved him. That was obvious.
‘I’m so sorry. I’m so terribly, terribly sorry.’ Poppy’s dad squeezed her hand. ‘If I could change anything, I would. I regret what I did every day. If you can’t forgive me or love me, I won’t blame you. I don’t deserve it.’
At last Poppy looked at him. ‘The thing is, Dad, if I’m honest, I think I’ve known you weren’t innocent for ages. I was pretending to myself. I kept on about it so much just because I couldn’t face the truth. Now I can. I’ve got to. But I’m not going to stop loving you. And, whatever you do, you’ll always be my hero.’
‘Oh, Poppy.’ For a horrible moment, Poppy thought her dad was going to burst into tears. Luckily, at that moment they were suddenly surrounded by Irena and Will and Angel and Lennie and Bernard and Bob, all still celebrating Big Frank’s brilliance.
‘Hogging the star’s forbidden, Poppy,’ said Lennie.
Poppy watched her dad and saw that he was trying hard to be a star again. She thought, he’s guilty, which means he’s bad, but he’s also a star and my dad who loves me.
She felt she’d grown up so much in the last five minutes that if she lived until she was a hundred, she couldn’t be any wiser.
‘Screws getting ready to clear us out, aren’t they.’ Angel, who was standing by her, pointed at the guards.
Poppy looked up. The prison officers had a less relaxed look about them. They were gathering the prisoners together by a door at the other end of the room where the visitors had come in.
‘Sad, isn’t it.’ Angel looked at Big Frank. ‘So much excitement, then off we go, and your dad’s left behind.’
Poppy watched Big Frank too. She could see the shadow growing behind his cheerfulness. ‘But he’s guilty.’
‘What!’ Angel stared at her in astonishment, ‘You always said he was innocent. That’s why we were going to help him escape.’
‘Well, he isn’t.’ Poppy nearly smiled at the expression on Angel’s face. ‘He told me himself. I asked him and he told me.’ She paused, before continuing. ‘You always knew he was guilty, didn’t you?’
Angel was too confused to answer. ‘Aren’t you mad at him?’
‘Are you mad at your dad?’
Angel reflected. ‘No point, is there. That’s the way he is.’
‘That’s just how I feel,’ said Poppy, although secretly she thought Angel’s dad was much worse than hers.
‘Didn’t choose them, did we.’ Angel’s mood was beginning to lighten. ‘At least we’ve got dads, haven’t we? Not like Will. You’ll see. Your dad will be in an open prison soon enough, and then it’ll be home visits and telling you and your mum how you’re doing everything wrong. When my mum’s freaked by it all, she says the law’s doing her a favour locking up my dad.’
‘Hey, you two.’ Lennie tapped Angel on the shoulder. ‘You don’t want to miss saying goodbye, do you?’
It was bad, the saying goodbye. Everyone was upset and trying to be brave. Poppy’s dad said goodbye to each of his visitors in turn and thanked them for coming. Then he told Poppy, ‘If you can’t have a good dad, you’d better have good friends. And I can see you’ve got them.’
‘Oh, Dad!’ Poppy threw herself into his arms.
The priso
ners were escorted away. Big Frank didn’t look back, although they watched until he left the room. Only then were the visitors allowed to leave, once more gathered into groups of ten.
Chapter Thirty
Holding her mum’s hand and with her friends all around, Poppy crossed the wide open area outside the chapel. It was no longer snowing and the sky was darkening as evening fell.
‘The snow’s melting,’ said Bernard from behind. ‘We’ll have no problem getting back.’
For a moment they all stopped and looked upwards. Everywhere looked peaceful.
‘Look at that!’ Poppy whispered.
Ahead of them a pale moon, so slender and silvery it hardly seemed real, was rising above the great stone walls.
‘A new moon,’ Poppy’s mum spoke in a hushed voice.
‘Awesome,’ said Will.
‘Looks like a smile on its side,’ said Angel
Poppy thought of Big Frank, by now locked up in his cell. Then she thought, he must have a window, and he’d see out of it the same glittering moon that they were looking at.
Suddenly Jude clapped her hands, ‘Let’s wish to the new moon!’ she cried. ‘Bow, turn round three times and make a wish.’
In a flash, they were all solemnly bowing and turning. The guards watched them, too amazed, perhaps, to hurry them forward.
‘Now, wish!’ cried Jude.
They stood quite still in a row and stared at the shining moon.
Poppy shut her eyes. ‘I wish,’ she said inside her head, ‘that my mum and dad and me carry on loving each other, even though my dad’s guilty and in prison.’ Then she added in a bit of a rush, because the guards were closing in, ‘And that Angel and Jude and Will and me carry on having adventures even if we can’t get my dad out of prison.’
‘Come on, now. We haven’t got all night!’ A booming voice broke up the ceremony. Quietly they filed across the open space and out through the prison walls.
Poppy’s Hero is Rachel Billington’s fifth novel for children. She has also published twenty adult novels, the latest, The Missing Boy, about a thirteen-year-old who runs away from home. Rachel has been an editor and regular contributor to Inside Time, the national newspaper for prisoners, since it was founded over twenty years ago. Insights arising from her prison work emerge in this new childrens’ novel. She has four children and five grandchildren, all keen readers.
SEA OF TEARS
Floella Benjamin
Jasmine is a typical British-born south London girl – smart, independent, plenty of attitude. But her parents are worried sick about the dangerous society in which they are raising their precious only daughter. They are determined to move the family to Barbados for a quieter, safer life. Jasmine is devastated – and when she starts school on the island she is treated as an unwelcome outsider. All she can think about is finding a way to get back to Britain – and that’s when she spots the empty motor yacht. . .
‘She writes with a sharp eye for details, with humour, with justice, with passion and with hope.’
Julian Fellowes, writer and actor
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