Shine

“I’m not sure it’s allowed,” Benita says.

“Please?”

A teeny river pushes its way out and stings my cheek. I rub my eye pretending I have an eyelash in it.

Benita pats my shoulder. “You stay here and I’ll see what I can do, I’ll just be a sec.”

She leaves the room and my ears fill with the sound of keys clattering and doors clunking and Mum shouting. I look at my watch. It’s one o’clock in the morning.

“You can have five minutes,” says Benita, coming back into the room, “I’ve spoken to the sergeant and he says you can pop in to say a quick goodnight to your mum.”

I feel all jelly again, and I’m shaking all over. My heart’s pounding. We walk down the grey corridor towards my mum’s shouting. Benita thumps the door, I hear some keys jangling and we’re in. I fly into Mum’s arms and we squeeze each other tight, holding on, not wanting to let go.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she sobs into my hair, “I’m so, so, sorry.”

I cling on, breathe in her smell, and snuggle into her warmth.

“Don’t leave me,” I whisper. “Please don’t leave me, Mum.”

She sobs and sobs and I worry that she’ll never be able to stop. She clings on so tight that her nails dig in. The big policeman standing near the door coughs and I remember that I don’t have long to make her feel better.

“Remember your mascara, Mum,” I say. I lick my tissue and mop up her face. “You don’t want to go around looking like a mess, do you? What would Bianca say, eh, Mum?”

She pulls herself together. I untangle her hair, take her face in my hands and kiss her on the nose.

“Now come on, Mum, all this screaming and shouting isn’t going to get us anywhere, is it?” I soothe.

“Sorry, Tiff,” she sniffs, “I’ll be good. I promise.

It was all Mikey’s fault. You do believe me, Tiff, don’t you? Just give me a bit of time to sort this mess out and we’ll be back home together before you can say ‘wizard’.”

I don’t know what to believe any more. But I know it’s not normal to be in a police station with my mum in the middle of the night. And I know I’m the only one in the world who can calm her down. And I’m boiling mad inside because our life is always about her.

“What about me?” I whisper. “What happens to me and Chardonnay while you’re sorting it all out?”

“I promise you, Tiff, it won’t be for long and I’ll come and pick you both up as soon as I can.”

“But, Mum, please!”

“There’s nothing I can do, babe. Nothing.”

Suddenly a brilliant idea pops into my mind. “Except…except maybe you could telephone someone…on Sark?”

“Don’t even go there, Tiff, I’ve told you before.”

“But it has to be worth a try, Mum, please?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Tiff, it’s been too long. They may have moved away years ago. I can’t just call out of the blue when I’m in trouble and ask for help, can I?”

“But, Mum, this is about me as well. It’s not just about you. I’m going to be sent off to a foster home, alone. They’re my family too, they’re not just yours.”

My mum drags her hand through her hair.

“OK,” she sniffs, “I’ll do my best, Tiff, I promise.”

The policeman tells us our time is up. I put the plug in my feelings and pull away. “Now be good and do what they tell you,” I say. “No more tantrums.”

“No more tantrums,” Mum echoes.

Benita takes hold of my hand and heads for the door; Mum holds the other one, not wanting to let me go. They’re both hanging on, tugging gently. Mum’s hand and mine slide apart until we’re just touching fingertips, until there’s just space between us, and then she crumples in a heap on her orange chair.

“I love you, babe,” she whispers.

“I love you, Mum.”

Chapter 7 (#ulink_02df6694-1094-5c5a-a144-f50cc9462d24)

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.