The Dead Ex(17)

‘I don’t know, love. You’ll find out soon enough. Now let’s go in, shall we?’

Wow! The house actually had a garden in front. There was a bicycle lying on its side, and the wheels were still spinning like someone had just got off it. Scarlet had always wanted a bike, but they were really, really expensive.

There was a doorbell, too, which made a pretty, tinkly noise. (Mum had got rid of theirs because the kids in the block kept pressing it and making a bloody racket.) A woman opened the door. She had eyes that looked like someone had dug them into her face. Her lips were a straight pink line. ‘You’re late.’

‘I’m so sorry but the traffic was bad and I got a bit lost towards the end.’ The social worker seemed nervous, rather like Mum before a game. ‘This is Scarlet. Scarlet, this is Mrs Walters, who’s going to be looking after you. It’s very kind of her at such short notice.’

‘Bring the money, did you?’

‘It will be paid into your bank account tomorrow morning.’

‘That’s not what we agreed.’

‘I’m afraid this was all rather last-minute.’

‘Always is, isn’t it? Well, you’d better come in, then.’

Scarlet’s eyes widened. There was proper carpet – with a red swirly pattern – instead of floorboards! It went all the way up those stairs. Was this really one house? She could hear a telly somewhere and children shouting.

‘I want to watch my programme.’

‘Piss off, it’s my turn.’

The woman with the dug-in eyes gave a laugh, but it wasn’t a nice one like Mum’s. ‘Kids,’ she said shortly. ‘You know what they’re like.’

‘Sure. I expect you’re about to have tea, are you?’

‘All finished now. Had it early tonight, we did.’

‘Ah. The thing is that Scarlet hasn’t eaten much. She’s had a bit of a traumatic day.’

‘Tall, isn’t she?’

Scarlet felt the woman’s eyes measure her up and down.

‘Well, yes. I’m afraid Scarlet’s only got the clothes she’s standing in and she doesn’t have a toothbrush either.’

‘Now why aren’t I surprised? Come along then. Let’s see what we can find.’

‘Bye, love. You might see me again or you could have one of my colleagues next time.’

Suddenly Scarlet didn’t want the shaggy-fringed social worker to go. ‘Will you tell Mum where I am?’

Mum had always been really firm about that. She couldn’t go off on her own. Not in their neighbourhood.

‘Of course I will.’

‘I’m worried about her.’ Scarlet’s chest grew tighter. ‘Mum sometimes forgets to eat unless I remind her.’

‘I’m sure they’ll give her food. Now you go and have your own. In the morning, you’ll be off to your new school with the other children here. Won’t she, Mrs Walters?’

‘Well, she’s not staying in the house during the day.’

The front door closed. Scarlet’s stomach rumbled loudly as Mrs Walters led the way into the kitchen. What a huge oven!

Maybe that’s where she kept her stash, like Mum. Or perhaps it was in that massive fridge.

‘Don’t touch! That one over there is for you lot.’

‘You’ve got two fridges? You must be very rich!’

Mrs Walters’ dug-in eyes stared at her. ‘You taking the mickey? Let me tell you, Scarlet. I get pin money for looking after kids like you, considering the amount of trouble you lot give me. Now choose something – just one, mind – and go and eat it in front of the telly.’

There was only an egg and something green at the back with black bits on it. The smell made her sick.

‘Little bastards must have cleaned it out earlier. You can’t have that. There’s no way I’m cooking at this time of the evening. Here, take this.’

‘Wow! Thanks!’

‘You taking the piss again? It’s Pot Noodle – not bleeding caviar.’

‘They’re my favourite.’

There was another stare. ‘Funny little thing, aren’t you?’

For a minute, Scarlet thought the woman’s face softened. Then it went hard again. ‘Give it here, then, and I’ll put some boiling water in the carton. Don’t want you hurting yourself on your first night and getting me into trouble. Here’s a spoon. Go into the room on your right and you’ll find the others.’

Scarlet felt her stomach falling in. ‘But I don’t know them.’

There was a hoarse laugh. ‘You soon will.’

There were four boys lying on the sofa. On the floorboards – no carpet in this room – were a crowd of girls. One had thick black stuff round her eyes like Mum sometimes put on when she was going out. When that happened, Scarlet had to be very good and stay in bed until Mum came back. The telly in here was so loud that it hurt her ears.

Uncertainly, Scarlet crouched down next to the girl with black stuff, who gave her a dirty look. ‘Not another kid. If Mrs W thinks she’s putting down an extra bed, I’m going to bloody well report the cow.’

‘Right. And how are you going to do that?’

This question came from a boy with ginger hair. ‘You know you can’t win.’