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Little Prisoners: A tragic story of siblings trapped in a world of abuse and suffering

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Год написания книги
2018
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Chapter 11

The journey back home from Wales was a tense affair.

Chapter 12

I had decided, during one of many bouts of sleeplessness…

Chapter 13

It took Ashton some time to act normally around us…

Chapter 14

I didn’t have a clue how to turn things around…

Chapter 15

I called Anna the next morning. I felt helpless; I…

Chapter 16

‘You know what?’ Mike said to me the following evening,…

Chapter 17

I brooded about that meeting all week. After we’d left…

Chapter 18

It had been such a delight to see Justin. He…

Chapter 19

Only a couple of weeks after the birth of Olivia’s…

Chapter 20

I grew more convinced, with every passing day, that these…

Chapter 21

It wasn’t that I wanted to label the children –…

Chapter 22

Just as had happened at Christmas, Easter passed almost unnoticed…

Chapter 23

The call came from Anna just over a week later.

Chapter 24

It was agreed that we’d say goodbye to the children…

Epilogue

This letter takes pride of place underneath the photograph of…

Exclusive sample chapter (#litres_trial_promo)

Casey Watson (#litres_trial_promo)

Acknowledgements

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 1

My husband, Mike, always bagged the window seat on planes, so I had to lean across him to watch ours land. He ruffled my hair.

‘Hey, look at you, eager beaver!’ he said. ‘Can’t wait to get home again, can you?’

We were returning from a glorious week in Corfu. Just the two of us. A rare break, and one we really needed. We’d just said goodbye to our most recent foster child, Sophia, and the impromptu holiday had been a real tonic. Sophia’s had been a two-week emergency stay that had stretched to almost a year. It had also been a pretty bumpy ride.

I snuggled up as far as my seat belt would let me, anxious to reassure him that that wasn’t the case. Well, not quite. ‘Oh, love,’ I said. ‘It’s been a fantastic holiday, really. But you know what I’m like. I’m missing the kids now. Especially baby Levi.’

Levi was our little grandson and one of the joys in our lives. ‘I know,’ Mike said, squeezing over so I could see out. ‘Me too, if I’m honest. But we’ll be home in next to no time … ah, here we go. Let’s see how he lands it.’

We both watched as the plane seemed to float towards the runway. No bumps today. The pilot touched down perfectly.

Looking after Sophia, who was now 13, and in temporary residential care, while they tackled her mental health problems, had been an experience we wouldn’t forget in a hurry. The outlook was positive, and we were still seeing her regularly, but what we’d been through when she was with us had taken its toll. Not just on the poor child but on us as a family, and now we were safely back on terra firma I realised just how much I needed to see my own children. Riley, my eldest, and mother to my gorgeous Levi, had given us the news, just the evening before we’d left, that she was now pregnant with our second grandchild. We’d been so thrilled, and now I was itching to get back to her and give her another hug.

I also couldn’t wait to see Kieron, our son, who I knew wouldn’t relax till he had us safely home again. He has Asperger’s syndrome and one of its features is that changes in routine made him anxious. Though he’d been away himself for a few days’ holiday with his girlfriend Lauren and her family, I knew it wouldn’t stop him fretting about whether we were okay.

And now we’d touched down, I couldn’t wait to actually get home and see them, so getting away from Manchester Airport couldn’t happen soon enough. I hate airports, especially in the middle of the day, when they’re at their busiest, and today wasn’t going to be an exception. We were herded along blindly down endless white corridors, then, due to all the extra security procedures, stood in one interminable queue after another. I sometimes wondered if we wouldn’t be better off going by boat. Finally, we emerged into the baggage reclaim area, but typically, there was no baggage yet in sight.

Sod this, I thought. I hadn’t had a cigarette in ages. ‘Mike,’ I said, making a familiar gesture. ‘D’you mind waiting for the cases, love, and I’ll see you outside?’

He smiled indulgently, bless him. ‘Go on, then,’ he said. Which was kind of him – as a non-smoker, I knew how much he wished I’d give up. Which I would, very soon. But not today. Giving him a quick peck, I headed off towards the arrivals hall and outside, rummaging in my handbag for my cigarettes as I went.

As I did so, I also pulled out my mobile. Time to switch it back on and catch up with everyone. I was particularly keen to speak to Riley, of course, just to check all was well with the new pregnancy. Plus I knew she might be anxious to speak to me too. We were close, and she knew just how much looking after Sophia had taken out of me. I knew she’d would want to catch up.

My thoughts were confirmed within seconds of turning my phone on. A series of bleeps, as text after text began appearing – though the texts, I could see, were all from voicemail. Hmm, I thought. Someone’s keen to welcome me back. The much-needed cigarette shelved for the moment, I dialled voicemail, put my ear to the phone and listened.

It hadn’t been Riley, but they were all from the same person. John Fulshaw, the link worker at the fostering agency Mike and I worked for. They’d all been made today, and were all pretty much identical. ‘Casey, can you please call me as soon as you get this?’

I was immediately alert. This could only mean one thing. That he must have another child in mind for us.
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