by Foster, L.
Father Andrew started to walk towards her. 'Judy.... I....I'm sorry....' But it was too late, his words were lost in the wind.
Chapter 10
Paul Moss sat staring at the solicitor across from him. The desk they sat at was slightly worn and aged from use. It held a mound of case files that threatened to come crashing down at any given moment. Charles Latham shifted his spectacles so they rested low on his eagle-line nose. His nose, a gift from his father, looked better with the spectacles resting low than when they rested normally. Latham looked over a document briefly and then at the doctor next to him.
'Well, Wendy? This is one of yours, right?'
Doctor Wendy Mitchell adjusted her own glasses and nodded while chewing on the end of her pen.
'That's the one. Case 39721.'
‘She’s been at your facility three months?' Charles enquired. Wendy nodded. Then Latham gave the dossier another cursory glance and signed it before addressing Paul.
'The girl's a UK citizen' he began. 'Parents escaped some political shit-storm or another in their native country. They sought and were granted asylum status, courtesy of Her Majesty.'
The solicitor could barely say the words 'Her Majesty' without a tonal sneer, but he continued.
'Without a surviving relative, the court has granted that the subject, one Miss Abigail Morozov, be made a ward of the state and remain in its care until such time as a suitable family can be found for adoption.' Latham slid the dossier across the desk and towards Paul.
'You sure she's ready yet? It's only been three months. Three months with the shrink doesn't sound much. I mean, after what's happened. How's her mental state?' Paul asked.
Doctor Mitchell took the pen out of her mouth long enough to answer Paul’s questions.
'Abigail is remarkably resilient. She's coped better than any of us could have expected. Of course, with that said, in cases such as this, the likelihood of post-traumatic stress is high. We'll need to keep an eye on her.' Mitchell put the pen back in her mouth and returned Paul an intimidating stare. How dare this cocky social worker question her decisions, she thought.
Paul sighed and took another scan over the paperwork. The file provided details on a six-year-old girl who was found alone after her family and friends were brutally murdered. The killer was still at large. Paul kept flipping through the papers while trying to avoid looking at any of the photographs. He signed it, then took the carbon copy of the signature sheet from the desk and stood up.
'Okay, fine. I'll set the wheels in motion. Thank you, oh beloved taxpayer.' With a sigh, he left the office.
Part Two: Mortem Angelus
10 years later
Chapter 11
Paul's car drove slowly up to the Glencoe care-home. A location not to be mistaken for its Scottish namesake under any circumstances. Although anyone who had the fortune to visit the real Scottish vista would most certainly not make such a foolish mistake. A solemn teenage girl was seated on the back seat, while his trainee, Karen Swinson, rode alongside of him. The radio was off. Nobody spoke. The silence made them somewhat uncomfortable.
However, it was the overtly pessimistic sixteen-year-old girl who broke the silence whilst staring out of Paul's rear passenger window.
'It looks so old. Is this place even supposed to be open? I think that roof tile is about to fall off.' She was looking to the far corner of the dilapidated building. She wasn't wrong.
Paul turned his attention to the girl, 'Right. Let's give this another try, shall we, Abigail? I know you think it looks old, but that just means it's well-worn like a comfy slipper.'
Paul's consolation did not work.
'Or it's where people put you when no one else wants you.' Abigail responded as she held her now very dirty and one-eyed toy rabbit close to her chest. While most children may have ditched or even lost such a thing, Abigail held to it with tenacity perhaps, as the last reminder of her long gone family.
Paul sighed. 'Listen, you know the game. My job's to place you in a home. Your job is to try and stay there long enough to see your next birthday. Can you do that for me, Abigail?'
Abi looked down at her hands and said nothing. Paul was in one of his moods again. She'd grown accustomed to it over their ten-year strained relationship and could tell when he was about to erupt. He was subtle like that so she kept quiet.
'I've been taking Abi through the system going on ten years now. Sometimes, families just click and sometimes, well, there are special girls like Abi who need a bit of tender care.' He was being sarcastic.
'It must be difficult...' Karen started to say.
'It is, believe me, it is'. Paul acknowledged.
'I meant for Abi.'
Paul ignored the last comment as he turned off the ignition. The house, grim from afar, didn't improve with a closer vantage point. There was more than just the roof tile which Abi had pointed out. Some of the paint on the wooden window frames was so badly peeled that one could see the rot and bug infestation underneath. The insulation left much to be desired too. To the left of the main house was a tree that had a tire swing attached. Had, being the operative word. The steel cable that held the tire was still wrapped around the branch, but the tire itself was missing. A small shed bookended the house on the other side. Its roof was better for the wear, but the walls were covered with graffiti. A rusted lock held the otherwise bulging doors shut.
Paul and Karen exited the vehicle. Karen went towards the rear passenger door and opened it. She smiled as she looked in.
'Come on Abigail. You have to give it a try. I know things haven't been brilliant, but this place is different. I've heard good things about this place.'
Abigail didn't respond. Instead, she sat in the car in protest. Karen looked at her with her hands clasped together in a plea. A moment or two later with a huff, Abigail exited the car and slung her tattered knapsack over her shoulder. Her rabbit was held firmly in her left hand. She followed Karen and Paul up to the front door of the care home. The smell of stale smoke made Abigail's eyes water.
A woman in her early fifties came out to welcome them. Her hair was a bit wild and let loose in a long and unkempt way. She moved her body like a dancer who was slightly off rhythm. That was how Rebecca Morgan came into Abigail's life.
'Paul, you made it! My directions were good, were they not?' she said as her smile stretched out over her teeth.
Paul caught himself staring at her cleavage and adjusted his gaze.
'Yeah, found it all right. They weren't too bad. Followed the A-road straight on to the motorway like you said. That's what? Two hours I reckon. Of course, that's also a half hour stop at the Watford gap.' He stopped before he continued. 'Rebecca, may I introduce Karen Swinson. Karen's new to our team. My successor, you could say.'
Rebecca's bubbly personality had disappeared when she turned towards Karen. Karen was everything Rebecca wasn't. She was young, compassionate and not fake. Rebecca's smile stretched even further as she shook Karen's hand and then dropped both the hand and the smile.
'Oh, and you must be the delightful little Abigail!' Rebecca's faux-bubbly personality shifted back into high gear. 'I'm sure you'll enjoy your stay here. We have a few girls about your age. Matter of fact, our communal room is that way. You can rest yourself and meet the others. I'll just finish up here with Paul and ummm...Karen...and I'll come and find you. Maybe see if I can find you something to eat. I'm sure you're starving.'
Abigail looked at Rebecca and then over to Karen and Paul. Paul gave what was supposed to be a reassuring nod before Abigail started slowly towards the communal room. When she was out of earshot, the adults resumed their conversation.
'Isn't that breaking protocol? Shouldn't we process her requirements in the office?' Karen asked.
Rebecca looked at Karen, her fake smile stretched to the point of almost breaking.
'We do things a bit more differently here at Glencoe. I like to think of it as a personal touch. After all, the children are our future...'
<
br /> '…and should be protected.' Karen cut in. ‘Part of that protection is the rules and regulations we have to follow...'
Paul placed his hand on Karen's shoulder and asked her not to worry.
'We'll process her shortly. Her link worker will be here tomorrow. I'll personally look after her till then.' Rebecca said.
'But, the rules state...'
'Enough, Karen. Who is the trainee here? You may be my replacement, but you haven't replaced me yet. If you keep that mouth quiet, you might just learn a thing or two.' Paul said.
'But...'
'I said enough! Either you toe the line or go back to the car. You're embarrassing me before Rebecca.'
Karen thought to protest again, but kept quiet instead.
'Oh, Paul. She can do nothing to make me think any differently of you. You're doing your best just as she thinks she is. Why don't we just forget that silly thing ever happened? She's still so young. She'll learn one day, won't you dear?'
Karen felt slightly insulted and started to fume. Her face turned red and she could feel her fingernails dig into her own hands. She looked over at Rebecca, but before she could utter a word, Paul had spoken on her behalf.
'That's what I'm here for! So she can learn the ropes. Hey, it seems pretty quiet around here, doesn't it?'
'Oh, you know how it is, Paul. Cuts, cuts and more cuts. Though they're taking place faster than we thought, so we had to let some of the staff go. I think the council aims to close this place. You know, the usual lack of funding nonsense.'
'Same everywhere, Rebecca. Glad I'm out of it soon.'
'Oh?' Rebecca asked as she moved closer to Paul.
'Yeah. I've opted for early retirement. There are things I've been wanting to do with my life and playing chauffeur to SDIKs isn't one of them.'
Rebecca gave a curt laugh. 'I couldn't agree more. I might have to follow you on that one. Hopefully, we'll ride out a couple more years. Make that nest egg a bit bigger for us. I'm with you on the SDIKs thing too. We used to get everyone, but with all of the resource cuts, SDIKs is all we can get. God knows we have enough of them already.'
'What's an SDIK?' Karen asked, apparently lost in the discussion.
Rebecca laughed again. 'Oh, Paul! This one is so precious with all of her little questions. An SDIK, hun, is what we call the terminally dysfunctional ones like your little Abigail. The ones who have been bounced around so much because they don't fit anywhere. It's 'KIDS' spelt backwards to mean; 'Social Downcast Incompetent Kids'. You know, the real Oliver types. This place is full of them.'
The blood drained from Karen's face.
Chapter 12
Abigail found herself in a small plain room. The furniture had marks on it and some of the chairs had names carved into them. There were more than a few cigarette burns on the table. The whole thing smelled of hormonal stink.
She looked over to the sofa. Three teenagers sat looking at her. One slightly pimply girl with large breasts whispered something into the ear of the lanky redhead next to her. The third girl laughed. At the far end of the room was another girl who sat alone and played with her mousy blonde hair. The others seem to ignore her. Abigail walked over to a slightly torn fabric covered chair. It was across from the sofa and a bit out of the way.
'Hey bitch, who said you could sit?' Ella, the girl with pimples and large breasts started, staring at Abigail with a hardened face.
Abigail looked up to the source of the voice, met her gaze briefly and returned to staring at the floor.
'What? Cat got your tongue? Too good to talk to us? Well, maybe that weird bitch over there can show you how to use that tongue of yours!' Ella said, looking to the girl in the corner. The girl ignored the comment and continued playing with her hair.
Bella, the skinny redhead laughed. 'I wouldn't waste your breath on this one El. Look, the dumb skank has a little bunny rabbit!'
The other girl, Holly, looked over at Abigail too, 'How old is she? And still holding a stuffed animal? I bet this bitch wets her bed too.'
Abigail hugged the rabbit closer and kept her eyes towards the ground. A small disturbance from the hall betrayed Rebecca's coming and the girls on the sofa rose in unison.
'Come on, girls. Let's leave the sissy alone with the dyke. I bet they have a lot to talk about.' Ella and the three girls left the room upon Rebecca’s request, blowing Abigail a kiss before leaving with the rest of the troupe.
'See you real soon, princess.' Brenda said.
'You might want to keep more than that toy in your bed at night if you want to stay safe. If you know what I mean.' Holly added, waving at Abigail before leaving.
When the three had gone, Abigail pulled her knees up to her chest and tried to focus on her breathing. The girl in the corner kept playing with her hair and looked over at Abigail, but quickly turned her attention back to her hair and the floor. Rebecca entered the room and looked over at the two girls sitting in the room.
'There you are. Sorry, I was longer than I anticipated. I think most of the girls are out. I guess you'll meet them later. Ah, and Laura's here.’ Rebecca was always spinning things better than they were.
'Hey, Laura! Wake up, hun! Stop fiddling with your hair and say hello to Abigail here. She'll be staying with us for a bit.'
Laura Davis put her hair down for a second and walked over to Abigail. The two stared at each other.
'Come on, Laura! Remember what we discussed! Now, be nice'. Rebecca nudged her forward.
Laura's face contorted into a painful mimic of Rebecca's fake smile. 'Hi.' she said as she extended her hand to Abigail. Abi looked over at Rebecca and back at Laura —both of their smiles seemed to expose their teeth and gums. Rebecca had gingivitis.
'Hi.' Abigail finally managed to speak and shook Laura's hand.
'Now, isn't that wonderful? I bet you two will be the best of friends! Okay girls, let's go and see if we can find something to eat, shall we?'
Rebecca ushered the two girls out of the room. Her keys jangling in her hand as she walked.
'Sandwich okay? I think we have enough ham. We only have the brown bread left. I hope that is okay?'
The bread was brown and hard as cardboard. Abigail thought the bread was brown due to being left out too long. The sandwich crunched with pieces of lettuce and a slightly sliced tomato. A few crisps were given to each girl and Rebecca even filled up two small cups with lemonade.
'Now, you both eat your sandwiches. And when you're done, Laura can show you what to do with the plates. You'll be in Linda's old room, Abigail. Everything will be laid out by the time you two are done. I have to get the rest of your paperwork ready for tomorrow.' Rebecca put the lid on the soda and placed it back into the fridge.
Laura took a bite out of her sandwich and waited for Rebecca to leave before talking to Abigail.
'So, what's your story?'
Abigail didn't respond, but continued to chew on her sandwich. After a couple of minutes, Abigail decided to break the silence. She sighed and responded quite seriously.
'There's not much to tell. I moved from home to home. Pretty sure I won't be here too long. I'm never anywhere for too long.'
'How many homes have you been to?'
'Enough!' Abigail barked, hoping to find Laura shocked at her outburst but was surprised to see her stay totally calm.
Laura took another bite of her sandwich and washed it down with the soda.
'Why do you move around so much? Do you get in trouble?'
Abigail looked down at her plate and put her sandwich aside. She took a sip from her cup and then put her crisp into the lemonade.
'Same here' Laura answered for Abigail having figured she wasn’t ready to talk. She looked over at Abigail and smiled. This time, her smile wasn't the fake Rebecca clone, but something genuine.
'I don't like them much either. But this one's not been too bad, so I gave it a shot. I've been here for two years now. It isn't too bad. I've been in worse. Much worse. Besides, we don't have too long
to stay here. Rebecca has been saying the government will shut this hole down soon. I hope that's true.'
Abigail put the soggy crisp into her mouth and sucked the soda out of it without saying a word.
Laura reached out and put her hand on Abigail's. 'You're probably the only one to understand what it's like to keep moving around like this. You aren't like the others.'
'What about the others?' Abigail was a bit taken back. This girl seemed different. She was desperate for friendship as much as she was though she never showed hers.
'Bullies. The whole lot of them. Ella's the ring leader. Things weren't as bad before she came. Granted, Holly and Brenda can be really horrible too, but they never had the...well...they never had the ambition to be mean all the time. Ella on the other hand...' Laura's fingers clasped around Abigail's and started to squeeze.
Abigail could sense from Laura’s fidgeting that she wasn't ready to talk too much about the situation.
'And the older woman? The one with the fake smile?' Abigail asked, trying to satisfy her curiosity.
'That's Rebecca. She's all right. Her smile may be fake, but at least, she tries to be nice—fake or not. The others aren't so caring. The link workers here are hit and miss. And Fred..., don't let him near you. He'll touch you up.'
'Fred?'
'He delivers groceries and stuff. He wasn't much of a problem until Rebecca had to lay off more and more staff. Now he comes every week. He can get you anything. Well, that's what I heard Ella say to Holly. But he demands payment up front in an alternate fashion, if you know what I mean. A total creeper.'
Abigail held her rabbit closer. Laura noticed.
'What's with that though?' Laura nodded to the toy in Abigail's hand. Abigail paused, she wasn't sure how to respond.