Saving Daisy

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by Phil Earle


  I searched her face for sincerity as the words trickled out.

  ‘In fact, everyone at Bellfield has vouched for the resilience you’ve shown in the last six months. They feel very strongly that the community doesn’t offer you the kind of care you need now. That you’d be better off – with support, I might add – in a more traditional family set-up.’

  I looked at her blankly. Her riddles were as bad as Ade’s.

  ‘With a foster family, Daisy,’ she said, pronouncing each word emphatically in case the doctors had given me a lobotomy. ‘I have to say that I would rather undergo a period of evaluation before making such a leap, but in light of the shenanigans this week, it wouldn’t be appropriate for you to head back to Bellfield.’

  My head whirred.

  ‘You mean because Naomi’s still there?’

  Why on earth would they do that after what she did? I didn’t like to think about how she’d target the others, Jimmy in particular.

  ‘You mustn’t worry about Naomi, or anyone else, Daisy,’ interrupted Ade. ‘This is not about them, it is about you.’

  ‘But you have to look after Jimmy,’ I gabbled. ‘He followed me after I saw Naomi and Paddy. He laid Paddy out, gave me the chance to …’

  Ade’s hands pointed up in submission. ‘We know what Jimmy did, he told us. Several times. I’ve never seen him so proud in his life.’

  ‘So you have to keep her away from him. Paddy too!’

  ‘Relax. Jimmy is fine. In fact, he’s enjoying the attention now that Naomi and Patrick have moved on.’

  I heaved a sigh of relief and sagged against the pillows.

  ‘Moved on? Bex hasn’t kept them together, has she?’

  ‘It does not matter where. All you need know is that we’ve found somewhere that will help them with their issues, somewhere where they will receive more time and attention. And no, they won’t be in the same place.’

  ‘I’m surprised you’re even concerned about Naomi after what she tried to do,’ added Evelyn, scrawling illegibly on a pad. ‘What you need to focus on is being healthy.’

  ‘So where does Daisy stand?’ Ade asked. ‘Have there been any developments?’

  ‘As a matter of fact there have,’ Evelyn replied, and with a flourish she produced a second file.

  ‘As I say, we haven’t had a lot of time to put a placement together, and this couple, while incredibly keen to have you …’ She paused, as if searching for the right words.

  ‘What?’ I asked. ‘Are they Satanists or something? Because, to be honest, it doesn’t matter to me.’ I just didn’t want to go back, not if Ade wasn’t going to be there.

  ‘Well, it matters to us. The last thing you need is unnecessary upheaval. We want this to be a long-term move for you, Daisy.’

  The gravity of that statement floored me. She was talking about a new family – people who would replace Dad – and I still didn’t know if I was ready for that.

  ‘And they know about me, do they? They’ve read my file? Know about the cutting and everything?’

  ‘Of course. They know everything we know about you, and despite their lack of experience of young people with your kind of needs we think you will really get on with them.’

  I noticed a crease on Ade’s forehead and for a second dreamed of her volunteering to take me in herself.

  ‘But Daisy wouldn’t be their first foster child, would she?’ she asked.

  Evelyn flicked through the file, tapping a section of interest.

  ‘No, no. They have fostered before. A boy. A bit younger than Daisy, but not without his own challenges by the looks of things.’

  I didn’t like the shake of the head that accompanied those words, but before I could question her, Ade jumped in.

  ‘But you have met them?’

  ‘I have.’

  ‘And you think Daisy will like them.’

  ‘I’m sure she will. In fact, you won’t have long to wait to find out. I’ve arranged for them to come and meet you both this afternoon.’

  My scars prickled with fear. Ade’s hand fell on to mine and squeezed gently. This was all moving so quickly, I just hoped I could keep up.

  Chapter 53

  It had never occurred to me that there was someone in the world who smiled more than Ade, but I was wrong.

  Jan Scott’s grin was wide and enthusiastic, though it wavered at the edges occasionally. It didn’t have the confidence or reassurance of Ade’s. She plastered it on to her face as soon as she saw me, but I’d seen the look that preceded it: a nervous frown, hands shaking slightly as they fidgeted with her handbag.

  To be fair, she banished the long face as soon as our eyes met and for the next fifteen minutes she talked non-stop about absolutely nothing. It wasn’t even small talk, it was just noise. She was sounding me out, testing me, working up enough bravery to touch my hand occasionally, to see if I would bite her if she did.

  I didn’t dislike her. It didn’t look as if she was hiding an evil streak. She was just trying too hard, like she had to make up for something she’d already done. I had no bloody idea what that was.

  The husband, Grant, was a different story. He smiled and waved when introduced, but was happier to sit in the background and let Jan go into overdrive. Maybe he didn’t like the look of me, or perhaps he was just cautious. Either way he didn’t get in my space like she did. Instead he hovered by the window, offering the odd nugget of conversation or chewing at the skin on the side of his thumb. He was friendly, but there was something he wasn’t comfortable with. I caught him rubbing at a series of scars that pocked his right cheek, like they were suddenly throbbing.

  ‘We haven’t had time to decorate a room for you, I’m afraid,’ Jan said in a rush. ‘Perhaps it’s something we could do together, once you’re in and you’ve scoped out the space.’

  I smiled politely. What did you say to that?

  ‘As long as there’s room for a lot of movies, I’m sure the room will be great,’ offered Ade.

  What followed was a long meandering conversation about the films they loved, although it was clear they never went to the cinema. Instead she talked about videos they’d seen and looked blank when I mentioned Blu-rays.

  ‘Is that an underwater film?’ she asked, and didn’t look cross when I giggled. In fact, it was the first time I’d seen a true smile appear. It suited her too: stopped her looking so completely terrified.

  They stayed for an hour or so, long enough for Jan to get every bit of information out of me that she could: what I ate and didn’t eat, my favourite colours, my star sign. She peppered me with so many questions that Grant eventually told her to ease off. ‘Let the girl have some secrets,’ he quipped, daring a wink in my direction. At which point I decided he was all right too.

  It became clear that there was a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it in.

  My shoulder was healing well. The gash was clean and, apart from some muscular damage, Naomi’s knife had avoided anything important. The doctors were making noises about the bed being needed and didn’t seem too concerned about where I ended up next. That wasn’t their problem.

  It was agreed that I would be ferried by Ade to the Scotts’ the day after tomorrow, news that was greeted with a new level of frenzied clucking from Jan. As they scurried out of the door I heard there were beds to turn down and shelves to put up. No wonder Grant looked exhausted, though to his credit he didn’t take it out on me, offering a smile and a thumbs up after Jan planted a wet kiss on my cheek.

  ‘It’ll be fine,’ he said, ‘once you get used to living with the whirlwind here.’

  And out they blew, a gust spiralling in their wake.

  ‘Well, they were nice, weren’t they?’ said Ade, as flustered as me.

  ‘Among other things,’ I replied, nodding, ‘including bonkers.’ I paused and took a long swig of water. ‘I reckon I’ll be happy there. I should fit
right in.’

  I giggled again, we both did. And again it felt good.

  My room at Bellfield was restored to a cell. Apart from a few Blu-Tack stains, there was no evidence anyone had been here at all. It was as hideous and cold as the day I moved in.

  It hadn’t taken long to pack. I never had gone shopping, so after sorting my underwear, jeans and a handful of Dad’s shirts, I was done. I folded the shirts carefully, laying them flat in the case and choosing a fresh one to wear. I wasn’t ready to give them up, not yet.

  Speed-packing seemed the right thing to do. I knew in my head that Naomi and Patrick were miles away, but every creak or bang from outside seemed to threaten their return and, as the anxiety spread through my chest, I felt the scars on my arm ache, reminding me they hadn’t faded yet.

  As usual, Ade was bang on the money, reading my every thought.

  ‘Don’t be surprised if the next few weeks are tricky. New surroundings, new school, new friends, all these things may cause you some anxiety. What doesn’t change, though, is your way of dealing with things. Keep the logic going. Bat away those silly thoughts with evidence of what you’ve done, how far you’ve travelled.’

  ‘I’ll try. It just seems so tiring, the prospect of it all. Maybe it’ll be easier if I keep a low profile, don’t make friends too quickly. I mean, it didn’t do me any favours here, did it?’

  ‘Well, no, but again, don’t be blaming yourself for that. You did what you had to do to survive those first few weeks. It’s only what anyone would have done.’

  ‘Suppose so.’

  ‘People will surprise you, Daisy. It may not feel like it now, but you must believe me. It’s no good hiding yourself away, ignoring the potential to make new friends. You have so much to offer.’

  ‘But how will I know who to trust?’

  She blew hard, a raspberry bubbling from her lips. ‘You’ll just know. Someone will come along and they’ll … I don’t know, get you. They’ll understand what you’re about and you’ll want to tell them too. You won’t be able to stop yourself. That’s how you’ll know it’s right.’

  ‘But if I tell them about what’s gone on then they’ll just run a mile.’

  She swiped her hand at me in jest. ‘There you go again! Where’s the evidence that will happen? Did I sprint off when I found out about your mum or dad? Did Jimmy? Or Susie?’

  I shook my head. She had me again.

  ‘You have to stop apologizing so readily for the bad luck you’ve had. Every time you feel the urge to say sorry, I want you to stop and work out if it’s really necessary. Because I’ll bet you, nine times out of ten, you’re not to blame.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  I meant it too. It would just take some practice, not to mention a lot of lip-biting.

  ‘Do you have everything packed?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Want me to give you a few minutes alone to say goodbye to your room?’

  I fixed her with a stare.

  ‘You are kidding me? I’ve already wiped this box from my memory. I’ll miss you, and some of the others of course, but I’m looking forward to windows I can actually smash if I want to!’

  She giggled and I stored up the sound, wondering when I would hear it again.

  A small crowd had gathered in the hallway. They applauded us both as we walked down the stairs and I framed the moment, another scene to remember in my ridiculous movie of a year.

  It was odd looking at the group without seeing Naomi and Patrick at its centre, agitating everyone around them, but it felt great to be able to walk around without expecting a slap to greet me.

  As much as I wanted to leave, it was hard to say goodbye. I couldn’t imagine how many kids the staff had packed off over the years, but the emotion on Floss’s and Maya’s faces was real. No actresses were that good.

  It was Jimmy who really shocked me, not that that should have been a surprise. His long arms snaked around me, threatening to reach around my shoulders a second time.

  ‘Don’t be a stranger, yeah?’ he said, and grinned.

  ‘I’ll give you my number if you want. You can send me a text, let me know how the gigs are going.’

  ‘Can’t see that happening. This phone’s been on the blink for a while now. Must be the SIM card or something.’

  ‘Or the lack of a battery?’ I chanced.

  He looked at the back of his phone and gave a sheepish grin.

  ‘Could have something to do with it, I suppose. But keep that under your hat, eh?’

  He offered me a scrap of paper and I scribbled my number on it. I had no idea if he’d ever use it, but it would be entertaining if he did.

  Goodbyes over, there was an awkward moment as we worked out how to leave, but fortunately it was broken by a rap on the front door.

  Susie broke ranks first, dashing towards it with a shout of, ‘SHE’S HERE!’

  ‘New resident, Daisy,’ Bex said, smiling. ‘I’d better get there before Susie smothers her. Wouldn’t look good to kill her on her first day, eh?’

  She squeezed my hand before walking away and eventually the other staff and even Jimmy did the same.

  ‘You ready, then?’ asked Ade. ‘We can leave through the school block, avoid the crowd.’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’

  I gasped as I felt the weight of my box of DVDs. But I didn’t turn back as we moved through the labyrinth of corridors. There wasn’t a great deal to say goodbye to, or remember fondly, but as we approached the last door an ear-splitting scream echoed through the hall, followed by a crash and a flurry of voices.

  Ade opened the door and a shaft of cold light shot in. I walked into it without hesitation. Whatever was going on back there had nothing to do with me. This time, I knew, it wasn’t my fault.

  Acknowledgements

  I couldn’t have written this story without the support of a lot of people, such as Haydn (trailers), Jason (website), the two Matts (Williams and Hutchinson), Madeleine Buston, plus colleagues at work, in particular Rob Cox, whose feedback was spot-on and only occasionally sketchy. It would be remiss of me also to not mention the drivers of the X68 bus too, who steered me home safely while writing.

  I’m also very grateful to the booksellers and librarians who have supported me over the past year, especially the Booksellers Crow, John Newman, Jo De Guia, David, Dave, Tamara and George. Much love as well to Carol Webb at Forest Hill School, who has the finest library in old London town. Her students are rather spectacular too.

  Cheers also to folk who’ve endlessly boosted my confidence. In particular, Jenny the Wondrous Reader, the Cherub Represents group, cousin Andrew, Zammo, Marcus and Bek, who always goes above and beyond the call of duty. I’m also very grateful to Stephanie Purcell and Alejandro Reyes for their help and expertise, not to mention Latino spirit.

  Thanks also go to the good people of Puffin, especially to Tania, Emma, Adele, Katy, Sarah, Samantha, Jennie, Brigid and to Shannon Park, who is as brilliant as she is persuasive – thank you, my friend.

  The song that Jimmy sings is called ‘The Moon’ and was written nearly twenty years ago by my friends Will and Waggy. Thanks so much for letting me use it, chaps. I never get tired of hearing it – it’s an absolute cracker.

  It’s a funny thing, this writing lark. I started on one thing, only to find myself somewhere completely different, somewhere I didn’t think I’d ever go. As a result I must thank the people who, twelve years ago, wrote, called or drove down the A63 to sit, play pool and kick my arse into action. Without you, I wouldn’t have written about Daisy, or Billy for that matter. I owe you one.

  Finally, thanks to my friends in the Palace and beyond. You know who you are.

  And finally-finally, to Laura, Albie, Elsie and Little Stan, who make my world turn and my head spin.

  Crystal Palace, June 2011

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  First published 2012

  001 – 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Text copyright © Phil Earle, 2012

  The lyric ‘All the other girls here are stars, you are the northern lights’ taken from the song ‘Kathleen’ written by Josh Ritter 2004. Published by Touch Tones Music Ltd

  Cover image (c) Arcangel images.

  All rights reserved

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

  Typeset by Palimpsest Book Production Limited, Falkirk, Stirlingshire

  Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

  ISBN: 978-0-141-95845-3

 

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