Читать книгу Shine - Kate Maryon, Kate Maryon - Страница 13

so I need you to trust me…

A man in a funny hat comes into the room where me and Benita are still waiting. Chardonnay is on my lap. Her little body keeps trembling and she’s looking all lost and worried. In one day she’s gone from being cosy at home with her mum and puppy brothers and sisters to being in a police room, on her way to the kennels. I hold her close wishing she were small enough to climb inside my pocket and come with me, wherever I’m going. Benita yawns, sips her hot tea and shakes hands with the man.

“Hi, Tiffany,” he says. He holds out his hand for me to shake. “Sorry I took so long to get to you.” He pulls up an orange chair and sits really close to me. “I know this must all be very difficult for you, Tiffany, and there’s a lot for you to take in,” he says. “My name’s Amida and I’m your social worker. It’s my job to make sure that you’re safe tonight, until we’ve sorted somewhere else for you. I’m going to take you to a lovely family, where you can get some sleep and something to eat. Your mum knows that we’re taking good care of you, so I need you to trust me. Do you have any questions, Tiffany?”

I shake my head. I have at least seven million questions whizzing through my brain about what’s happening in my life and why my mum’s in a police station crying. And about what has actually happened and what Mikey did. And if someone from Sark will come and find me and if they do what will they be like. But all my questions are squashed together in the little worry bag that’s stuck in my throat.

“Great then,” he says, standing up, yawning. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Benita hands him my wheelie suitcase and takes Chardonnay from my lap. Chardonnay wriggles and yelps, trying to get back to me. She looks really worried about what’s happening, so I stroke her head to calm her down. I want to give her a kiss goodbye, but I can’t trust that my feelings won’t spill out all over the place. I give her one last pat, take a very deep breath to keep everything under control and stand up on my jelly legs.

“I promise she’ll be well looked after,” calls Benita as we leave the room.

Amida’s car smells of leather and peppermints. He offers me one but I shake my head, I don’t want it. He tucks a cosy blanket around me to warm me up and calm my chattering teeth, and does up my seatbelt to save me the trouble.

“The people you’re going to be staying with are called Darren and Claudia – you’ll like them; they’ll be up waiting for us. I’ve already told them all about you.” He yawns. “It’s been a long old night for you, eh?”

I don’t have any voice left tonight, not for anyone. And even if I did, why would I want to talk to some nosy old social worker about how I’m feeling and how long my night has been? It’s not like he’s really interested, is it? He’s just doing his job and trying to be kind. But I don’t need kind, I need my life back. What does he even expect me to say? Some sad old story about how my whole entire life has been ruined in one night, just so he can feel sorry for me? Or about how I’m starting to feel really angry with my mum? Well, whatever it is he wants from me he’s not getting it. No one is. My mouth is staying firmly zipped.

“Here we are,” says Amida, parking the car in front of a big house, “I’ll come back to see you in the morning, Tiffany. I hope you sleep well.”

A man wearing tracksuit bottoms and an old woolly jumper comes out of the house, followed by a lady in a pink-and-white spotted dressing gown. Amida pulls my wheelie suitcase from the boot of his car.

“Thanks for this,” he says to them. “Sorry it’s such short notice.”

The car door is opened for me and the lady, Claudia, helps me out. My legs feel heavy and I want to lie down.

“Welcome, Tiffany,” she gushes, taking hold of me and guiding me along the dark path. “Let’s get you tucked up in bed shall we?”

I hear Amida drive away and am left alone with two more new people to get used to. I follow them into the house and have some milk and biscuits without a fuss. Claudia takes me into a green bedroom that has a blue rug on the floor and a yellow teddy on the bed. She helps me into my pyjamas and carries on chatting away, not minding that I’m not joining in. I clean my teeth with weird-tasting toothpaste.

“Night then, Tiffany,” says Darren, popping his head round the door. “We’re just in the room next to you, so if you need anything in the night, or if you’re worried and need to talk, just come and wake us up, OK?”

Claudia’s soft hands tuck me in. She leaves my door open a bit so a sliver of landing light can peep its way in. Shadows hang on my walls and strange sounds creak and creep around me. New fabric-softener smells sit in my nose and tickle my face. And when it’s safe and quiet and there’s no one around, the tears sneak out of my eyes. They trickle at first and then a dark monster in my stomach lurches up and pushes hard. My face crumples like a stupid piece of rubbish paper and my voice wants to call out for my mum and Chardonnay. But I won’t let it call, and I won’t let it call for stupid Darren or stupid Claudia either. Instead, I bite hard on the yellow teddy and try to sleep.