The Dead Ex(44)

‘Who are they?’ asked the girl with the pony.

‘My mum and some other people,’ Scarlet wanted to say but the words stuck in her throat again.

‘Cat got your tongue, has it?’

‘We heard you’re living in the home for weirdos.’

This was a boy whose desk was on her left.

‘The ones that take in kids without parents.’

Not true! She still had a mother, even if she was in prison. Then a terrible thought struck her. What if Mum had died, and no one had told her?

The teacher was pointing to a map now, but Scarlet felt too sick to listen. As soon as the lesson finished and they were sent into the playground for ‘break time’, Scarlet knew what she had to do.

‘Was it school?’ asked Dee a few hours later when they collected her from the railway station. ‘Was anyone horrid to you?’

Scarlet looked out of the car window. Fields, fields and more fields. Yellow and green and yellow again. She still felt sick but hungry too. It had been a long time since breakfast.

‘Then why did you run away? If the station master hadn’t called us, you might be on a train to goodness-knows-where by now, and anything could have happened to you.’

‘Because I wanted to visit Mum, of course,’ said Scarlet in her head. ‘Make sure she’s all right.’

‘You’ve got to say something, love, or we can’t help you.’

This was Robert.

‘DON’T CALL ME “LOVE”!’ Scarlet wanted to shout. Mr W had done that. And other names too. She should have stopped him. But then she might have got into trouble again.

‘Can you write it down instead?’

No. That would make it even more real.

‘Did the other kids tease you about the colour of your skin?’

Scarlet was about to nod when Robert spoke again.

‘Don’t be daft, Dee. The teacher would have put a stop to that.’

‘I know you want to see your mum.’ Dee’s voice was softer. ‘I wasn’t able to live with my parents either when I was your age. It’s not that she doesn’t want to see you. She’s not allowed to at the moment for lots of different reasons. But she’s safe and well. I promise you.’

How did she know Dee wasn’t lying?

‘In fact, she’s sent you a present. It’s a CD which we can play when we get home. It’s got her voice on it.’

Really?

Robert, who was driving, made a noise in his throat. ‘I’m still not sure this is a good idea. It might upset her even more.’

‘Let me handle this, OK? You go back to taking your precious pictures.’

After that, no one said anything until they got home. When they asked if she was hungry, Scarlet shook her head. But Dee put a bowl of pasta in front of her with a cheesy tomato sauce that she’d made herself on something called an Ah Ger.

‘Shall we hear your mum now?’

They went up to her bedroom. Dee plugged in a CD player.

‘Once upon a time, there was a little girl called Scarlet.’

Dee had been right. It was Mum’s voice!

‘She recorded this specially for you! Isn’t that nice? The people in the prison helped her.’

‘Scarlet lived in a pretty house far away from her mum. But her mum still loved her very much.’

‘See?’ Dee was cuddling up to her. ‘I told you she was all right.’

They listened to the story right to the end. When it finished, Scarlet wanted Dee to play it again, but the words wouldn’t come out. Then Dee said goodnight. ‘Won’t you use your bed now? I think your mother would want you to.’

So she did, but she hid under the duvet all night, listening carefully in case the door opened and Robert came in.

They made her go to school the next day. ‘It will be good for you,’ Dee had said when she’d walked with her down the lane. ‘Watch out for that puddle.’

Too late. There was so much mud here! It stuck to the green tights Dee had bought her to go with her uniform. Her blazer was second-hand. Dee had told her this as though she was sorry. But Scarlet liked it, even though it itched a bit and had someone else’s name on the label. Dee had written Scarlet Darling over it in black pen, but you could still see the other writing below.

‘It would help you settle in if you could talk,’ said Dee as they got closer. ‘Your social worker thinks you should see the educational psychologist.’

What was that? But once more, the words were too scared to come out of her mouth.

When she got to the classroom, everyone stared again.

‘Heard you tried to run away,’ said the girl with the pony next to her.

Scarlet ignored her. Instead, she lifted her desk lid to say hello to Mum.

‘I’m sorry I left you here,’ she said silently. ‘But I just wanted to find you.’

Mum smiled back at her. But something was different. She had something black above her mouth. A moustache. Like the uncle who rode the motorbike.

‘It wasn’t me that drew on it,’ said the girl. ‘It was him.’ She pointed a finger at the boy on the left.

‘It was only a joke. GET OFF ME. YOU’RE HURTING.’

Scratch. That’s what Mum had told her to do if she really wanted to hurt someone. And put your fingers in their eyes. It gave you time to run away because they wouldn’t be able to see.