Afraid (3 page)

‘If you walk out, I swear to God I’ll never talk to you again,’ Hayley warned.

Skye couldn’t help but grin when she saw the stern expression on Hayley’s face. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she teased. ‘You look like Mrs McCready.’

‘Well, if you did as you were told instead of arguing all the time I wouldn’t have to tell you off,’ Hayley retorted mock-sternly. Then, softening, she said, ‘Look, Skye, you’re my best mate and I want to help you, so just pass me the damn piggy bank. Or do I have to get it myself?’

‘Don’t you dare,’ Skye hissed, glancing at the door. ‘Your mum’ll kill me if she thinks I made you get out of bed.’

‘Get it, then.’

Skye did as she’d been told and lifted the heavy piggy bank off the shelf. Sure from the weight that it must be crammed with copper coins, her eyes widened when Hayley pulled the little plastic stopper out and, sticking two fingers inside, extracted a folded wad of notes.

‘Here.’ Hayley peeled off a twenty and held it out. ‘You don’t have to tell me what it’s for if you don’t want to.’

‘It’s for Janet,’ Skye admitted, gratefully taking it and slipping it into her bra. ‘She said I had to give it to her first thing, or else. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can – cross my heart.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Hayley, a resigned edge to her voice as she added, ‘I won’t be spending it anytime soon stuck in here, will I?’

Skye frowned as she gazed down at her friend. ‘No, but you’ll be better soon. You’re always getting colds, you; you’ll fight it off in no time. Better had,’ she added, smiling now. ‘I’m getting fed up of walking to school on my own.’

Hayley smiled back, and gave a weak salute. ‘Okay, boss, I’ll do my best.’ Then, remembering something, she rolled over and reached into her bedside drawer. ‘Here.’ She took out a tiny square wrapped in tissue paper. ‘This is for you.’

‘What is it?’ Skye asked.

‘It’s your birthday on Monday,’ Hayley reminded her. ‘I was going to give it to you on the way to school, but it looks like I’m going to be off for another week, so I thought you’d best have it now.’

‘You didn’t have to get me anything,’ Skye murmured, touched that she’d remembered.

‘Open it,’ Hayley ordered, eager to see her reaction. ‘It’s only little, but I thought of you as soon as I saw it.’

Skye carefully unwrapped the tissue, and gasped when a delicate silver chain with a tiny angel hanging from it fell out onto her lap. ‘Oh, it’s gorgeous,’ she exclaimed, picking it up.

‘It’s your guardian angel.’ Hayley beamed. ‘Anytime you feel low, just touch her and make a wish and she’ll put everything right.’

‘That’s lovely,’ Skye said, unhooking the catch. ‘Here, put it on for me.’

Hayley reached up and fastened the necklace around Skye’s throat, and then watched as she went over to the dressing table to take a look in the mirror.

‘I love it,’ Skye murmured, gazing at it. ‘It’s the best present
ever
.’

The door opened just then, and Kathy walked in carrying a bottle and a spoon. ‘Sorry, you’ll have to go now,’ she said to Skye. ‘Hayley needs her medicine.’

‘I was just going,’ Skye told her. ‘Thanks for letting me see her. Can I come again tomorrow?’

‘We’ll see.’

‘I gave her the necklace,’ Hayley said. ‘Suits her, doesn’t it?’

Kathy nodded and smiled. She hadn’t been particularly pleased when Hayley had first struck up a friendship with Skye, because the girl was quite scruffy and seemed a bit rough around the edges. But since she’d learned a little about her home life, she felt sorry for her and was pleased if the necklace had given her a bit of joy.

‘Hurry up and get yourself home, pet,’ she said softly. ‘And no dawdling. It’s getting dark out there, and there are some funny people about.’

‘I’ll be careful,’ Skye promised. Then, turning back to the bed, she leaned down and hugged her friend, whispering, ‘Thanks, Hayls, you’re the best.’

When she stepped out of the house a few seconds later, the cold air hit Skye like a sledgehammer. Teeth already chattering, she zipped up her jacket and shoved her hands deep into her pockets before heading home. There had been a lovely smell of cooking in the air back at Hayley’s, and she hoped that her own mum had bothered to make dinner today – and, if so, that it would be something hot, for a change. She didn’t mind salad every now and then, but it was all they seemed to have lately, and she didn’t see why she should have to eat it just because her mum was on a diet. She wouldn’t have minded so much if her mum even needed to lose weight, but she was already too skinny. It was just another symptom of her illness, though: seeing herself as fat, when everyone else saw her as thin; thinking she was hot, when everyone else was freezing. Getting paranoid that everybody was talking about her, when no one had said a word. Crazy.

The house was in darkness when Skye let herself in, and she was disappointed not to smell food. ‘Mum?’ she called, looping her jacket over the newel post at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Are you in?’

When no answer came, she blew on her icy hands and walked down the hall to the living room. Hesitating in the doorway when she saw her mum’s silhouetted figure hunched at the far end of the couch, she said, ‘I thought you were out. Why are you sitting in the dark?’

‘Don’t turn the light on, I’ve got a headache.’ Andrea Benson’s voice sounded hoarse, as if she’d been crying.

‘Has something happened?’ Skye asked, immediately concerned. ‘Dad hasn’t hit you, has he?’

‘Stop shouting,’ Andrea said sharply. ‘You’ll wake the baby.’

‘What baby?’ Skye frowned. ‘We haven’t got a baby, Mum. It’s just me – remember?’

‘Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ spat Andrea. ‘Just because
you
can’t have one, you pretend that
I
haven’t got one. But you’re fooling no one, Linda Harris. Everyone knows your game.’

Skye’s legs began to tremble. Linda was her mum’s sister, and the two had fallen out years earlier when Linda had miscarried and accused Andrea of wishing it on her. If her mum now thought that she was Linda and there was a baby in the house, it could only mean that she was having a bad episode.

‘Mum, where are your tablets?’ Skye asked, taking a tentative step into the room. ‘Are they in your handbag? Shall I get them, then make you a nice cup of—’

She stopped talking when her foot hit something soft and heavy, and a rush of dread coursed through her when she looked down and saw the man-shaped figure on the floor.

‘Dad?’ she gasped. Then, hysteria rising into her throat, she stared at her mum and screamed, ‘What have you
done
?’

3

Skye was in shock. She remembered having made the 999 call, but everything had happened so fast after that, it had been just a blur of flashing lights, uniforms, and people running in and out of the house.

The sound of her mum’s screams when the police had handcuffed her and thrown her into the back of a van was still echoing in Skye’s ears; but it was the sight of her dad lying on the floor that would haunt her for ever. She’d already known there was blood, because her hands and knees were crusted with it from when she’d kneeled down and tried to rouse him. But she hadn’t realised how
much
blood until one of the coppers had turned the light on. It had looked like a scene out of a horror film, and she couldn’t get the image out of her mind – even now, hours later.

The police had taken her to the station after carting her mum off, and she’d been made to wait there until somebody from Social Services came for her. Huddled in the back seat of the social worker’s car now, en route to the emergency foster home where they had arranged for her to spend the night, her heart was breaking. Nobody had told her anything, and she was convinced that her dad was going to die – if he hadn’t already; and it was tearing her apart to think that she might never see him again.

Desperate for it to be a bad dream, she kept digging her nails into her leg in an effort to wake herself. But it was no dream; it was a real living nightmare, and she knew that life was never going to be the same again.

‘Almost there,’ Val Dunn said, glancing at Skye in the rear-view mirror. ‘Are you okay?’

Skye clamped her teeth together and stared angrily out at the dark road. Every time she’d asked about her dad they had said they didn’t know anything yet, but she knew they were lying. They must know
some
thing, they just didn’t want to tell her because they thought she was a kid. And that really pissed her off, because she was almost fifteen and had a
right
to know what was happening with her own dad. But if they wouldn’t talk to her, then she was determined not to talk to them.

Val gazed at the girl for a few more seconds before turning her attention back to the road ahead. It would have been good to know what was going through her mind, but she had clammed up back at the station, so Val could only guess how she must be feeling. She was clearly scared, which was only to be expected under the circumstances because no child enjoyed being lifted from their home and handed over to strangers. She was also angry, Val sensed; frustrated that nobody was giving her the answers she wanted. But the truth was, they simply didn’t know anything yet. Skye’s father had been in surgery when Val arrived at the station, and the hospital still hadn’t reported back by the time she and Skye had left. She would call for an update in the morning and decide what to tell Skye depending on the news, but her priority right now was to get the child settled.

They drove on in silence for a while, and Skye didn’t raise her gaze until they began to slow down. She’d known they were some distance away from her home because of how long it had taken to get here, but when she looked out along the tree-lined avenue and saw all the big houses she felt sick. This was rich-people territory, and those who could afford to live here had to be really old and posh, so they were bound to look down their noses at her. In a way, she kind of hoped they did, because if they refused to let her into their house the social worker would be forced to take her home. And that was all she wanted right now: to go home, climb into bed, and pretend that none of this was happening.

When Val pulled onto the drive of a large detached house, a middle-aged couple came out onto the step. Skye cast a hooded glance at them from beneath her lashes and hated them on sight. Some lads she knew from school had spent time in care, and they had all said the same thing: that foster-parents were evil bastards who acted nice in front of social workers but turned nasty as soon as they were gone.

The woman of the couple came over to the car and opened the back door for Skye as Val climbed out from behind the wheel.

‘Hello, love, I’m Marie. You must be Skye?’

‘She’s exhausted,’ Val explained when Skye climbed out sulkily without answering. ‘Shall we go inside?’

‘Of course.’ Marie waved for Val to go ahead, and then placed a hand on Skye’s back to guide her in.

Skye recoiled from her touch and stumbled over the step, desperate to get away from her. Marie had a soft voice and smelled of washing powder and perfume – like Hayley’s mum. The reminder of home had brought a lump to Skye’s throat, and she swallowed hard to clear it.

The house had looked like a mansion to Skye from the outside, but it was surprisingly cosy on the inside. The carpets felt thick and plush underfoot, and the couches in the spacious living room were big and comfortable-looking. The walls were lined with pictures of smiling children, and she guessed they must be foster-kids who had stayed here, because there were far too many for them to be the couple’s own.

‘Sit down while I have a quick word with Marie and Dennis,’ Val said, gesturing towards the couches. ‘We won’t be long.’

Skye did as she’d been told and watched, resentfully, as the adults moved to the other end of the room and sat around a dining table. Unable to hear what they were saying, she angrily ground her teeth together. They didn’t even know her, so how dare they talk about her as if they knew what was best for her.

After briefing the couple, Val came back to Skye. ‘Right, I’m going to leave you to settle in,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a few meetings in the morning, but I should be free by lunchtime, so I’ll come back as soon as I’m done. Anything you’d like to ask before I go?’

When Skye carried on glaring down at the floor, Val sighed and glanced at her watch. This call-out had dragged on for far longer than she’d anticipated, and she desperately wanted to go home to her own children.

As his wife went to show the social worker out, Dennis Vaughn strolled over to Skye and smiled down at her. ‘Val says you haven’t eaten yet, so how about I whip up some of my world-famous cheese on toast?’

Skye folded her arms over her stomach when it growled. She was starving and would have loved some cheese on toast, but there was no way she was taking anything from this stranger.

‘You’re probably too tired to eat,’ Dennis said understandingly. ‘Come on; I’ll show you to your room.’

He walked towards the door and paused there, waiting for Skye to follow. When she didn’t, he said, ‘I know this must be tough, and you’re probably dying to go home, but everything will look brighter in the morning – I promise. And anything you want while you’re here, you only have to ask. Okay?’

Marie came back just then. When she saw how miserable Skye looked, she touched Dennis’s arm and whispered, ‘Go on up; I’ll see to her.’

When he’d gone, she went over to Skye and held out her hand. ‘Come on, love, you can’t sit here all night. Let’s get you up to bed.’

Her voice was so soft and kind that Skye had to bite down hard on her lip to stop herself from bursting into tears. The events of the day were really starting to take their toll on her and, as much as she didn’t want to be here, she was too tired to resist the lure of bed.

But she wasn’t about to let them think they had won. So, maintaining the frosty expression, she ignored Marie’s hand and stood up on her own.

Jeff Benson was struggling. The anaesthetic from his operation was wearing off fast, and he had a banging headache, while his body felt as if it had been trampled by a herd of elephants. The doctor who’d been to check on him a short time ago had told him he was lucky the knife hadn’t gone in a couple of millimetres deeper or he’d have been buggered. As it was, he had a nasty wound that would take a while to fully heal, and he’d be on antibiotics for some time to come in order to ward off infection. Yet, for the life of him, he still couldn’t remember what had happened.