why does your mum want you home?’
‘Dunno,’ Sadie shrugged, affecting less interest than she felt.
They wandered out into the corridor and walked towards the exit.
By the time they got there, most of the other kids had left. As they walked through the school gates, Sadie saw little Jamie Brown, the boy she had helped in the playground. He seemed to be in a world of his own, scuffing his shoes as he shuffled along and humming dreamily to himself in that tuneless way that always attracted so much derision from the other kids.
‘You all right, Jamie?’ she asked as they passed.
Jamie looked up as though noticing the girls for the first time – which he probably was. The pungent odour of stale urine hit Sadie’s nose, and she did her best to stop her distaste from showing in her face; but next to her she heard Carly’s voice, half-choking, half-sniggering. She glanced at her in momentary annoyance and then turned her attention back to Jamie. As soon as he had heard Carly, he had hung his head straight back down and started to walk away, his cheek twitching nervously. Sadie strode after him. As she did so, and on a whim, she thrust her hand into her satchel and brought out a bar of chocolate. She shoved it into Jamie’s hand. ‘Here you go,’ she told him. ‘You can have this.’
Jamie stopped once more and stared in astonishment at the foil wrapper in his hand. He looked to Sadie as though he had never seen a bar of chocolate in his life.
‘Go on,’ Sadie said to him, half laughing. ‘It’s not poison.’
A look of indecision crossed the little boy’s face, but eventually he shook his head and handed it back to Sadie. ‘No thanks,’ he said in a small voice. ‘I can’t.’
Sadie and Carly shared a surprised glance.
‘What do you mean, you can’t?’ Carly asked. ‘She just gave it to you, didn’t she?’
‘I’m not allowed,’ Jamie said firmly, handing the chocolate bar back.
‘Who says?’ Sadie asked him gently.
‘My mum.’
Sadie looked at him in confusion. ‘But it’s only a bit of chocolate.’
‘Yeah, but I’m still not allowed.’
‘But she won’t know.’
Jamie looked away, embarrassment shadowing his face. ‘Yeah, she will. She always knows. She gets … angry.’ As he said the word ‘angry’, his voice went hoarse.
Sadie and Carly stood awkwardly, unable to think what to say.
‘Anyway,’ Jamie mumbled, his voice a little aggressive now, ‘it’s nothing to do with you.’ And he strode off, walking with more purpose than before and resolutely not looking back.
‘Weirdo,’ Carly observed, but without much conviction. Sadie said nothing.
It was a ten-minute walk back to the estate, and the two girls remained quiet all the way home. Sadie couldn’t speak for Carly, but she had been shocked by the look on Jamie’s face when he spoke of his mother. It was a look of sadness, certainly, but also of confusion and fear. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to feel those emotions when you were going home.
That thought brought her mother’s farewell words this morning back to her: ‘I’ve got a surprise for you,’ An involuntary smile flickered across Sadie’s face – like all children, she liked surprises. She liked the anticipation. And most of all, she liked the idea that her mum had thought about doing something for her. It was like the old times, when her dad would arrange little treats for her if he’d made a bit of money.
As they arrived on the outskirts of the estate, Sadie and Carly said goodbye and went their separate ways. In the bright afternoon sunshine, the faceless grey tower blocks almost managed to look cheery, and Sadie continued to daydream as she wandered home, her mind full of what-ifs. What if she were to get back to find the flat as it used to be: full of boxes and the life that her dad breathed into the place? What if they were going out, to the cinema, or McDonald’s? Maybe her mum had rented a video from the shop, and bought them Coca-Cola and crisps.
She wandered up the pathway, put her key in the door and walked inside.
Jackie stood in the kitchen. It was a large room, big enough for a dining table, which they never used. As Sadie stood in the door, her always-present satchel hanging around her neck, she blinked in astonishment. When she had left this morning, the sink had been brimming with dirty plates and pans, and Sadie fully expected to find it so when she returned. Jackie might have kicked the booze, but she was still a long way from being the perfect mum, and it was just a matter of course now for her to have to wash up whatever she needed when she made her sandwich for tea. But this afternoon, the kitchen was pristine. Even the large ashtray had been emptied, although Jackie still had a long, slim cigarette burning between her fingers.
‘Are they new trousers, Mum?’ Sadie asked, a bit disconsolately, as she had been telling her that she needed new school shoes for ages now.
‘Oxfam.’ Jackie smiled a little nervously, stubbed out the half-smoked ciggie and walked forward to embrace her daughter. She planted a kiss on Sadie’s cheek, and the girl turned to look at her mum in suspicious amusement. Mum never kissed her when she got home from school – it just wasn’t something she did.
‘What’s going on, Mum?’ she asked, removing the satchel from round her neck and plonking it in the middle of the floor.
Jackie took her daughter by the hand. ‘Come with me, love,’ she said, unable to hide the quiver in her voice. ‘I want you to meet someone.’
She led Sadie through the kitchen and into the sitting room. As she did so, Sadie felt a lurch in her stomach. Her childish instinct told her what was coming.
The man standing in their sitting room had very closely cropped hair. His face was slightly round and clean-shaven, and his sideburns were sharp and angular. There was a scar, about an inch long, above his right eye, and his lips were pale and pursed. He wore brown trousers, pleated below the waist in such a way that they gave the impression of hiding a bit of tummy, and a pale blue shirt that complimented his piercing eyes. It was his eyes that struck Sadie most of all. They were surrounded by black bags and stared straight at her with a flatness that seemed to contradict the thin smile that spread across his face.
And within seconds of seeing him, she realized that she had met him before. That very morning. He was the man who had sent the shopkeeper packing. The man who had stopped her copping it.
She stared at him awkwardly, her dark eyes narrowing a little and the inside of her mouth suddenly becoming dry. Then she heard her mum speaking.
‘Sadie,’ she said in an emphatically friendly voice, like a hostess introducing two people at a party, ‘I want you to meet Allen.’
She waited for Sadie to say something, but Sadie didn’t.
‘Say hello, Sadie, love. And remember your manners. Allen’s going to be your new dad.’
‘What do you mean?’
Sadie looked round at her mother incredulously. What was she saying? They were in this together, weren’t they? They were mourning her dad together.
Jackie seemed surprised by Sadie’s reaction. ‘Don’t be like that, love.’
Silence.
Allen spoke for the first time. His voice was deep, quiet and not unfriendly; Sadie could not place his faintly Mancunian accent, but to her it sounded almost musical. ‘Why don’t we have a nice brew, eh, Jackie?’ he suggested to Sadie’s mum.
Jackie responded a bit too quickly. ‘Cuppa, Sadie?’ she asked,