The Girl Who Wanted to Belong, Book 5 Page 3

  Lucy knocked on our bedroom door at just after four o’clock the next morning. I woke with a start, got up immediately and went to see what was wrong.

  ‘Nothing’s wrong. What time does the shop open? Can I come and help?’

  I had to explain to her that it was too early to get up. I told her Barbara was opening up the shop that day and Jonathan was going out on the morning deliveries. We didn’t need to get up for several hours yet.

  ‘Oh,’ Lucy said, crossing her arms and fixing me with a stare. ‘But I’m wide awake. I want something to do.’

  She pushed her hair out of her face, rubbed her eyes and gave a little frown, wrinkling up her freckled nose as she did so. Then she stuck the tip of her tongue out and wriggled it around under her two newly emerging front teeth, as if trying to work out if they’d grown while she’d been asleep. I was feeling quite groggy after being so rudely awakened, but I couldn’t be cross. Lucy looked adorable, standing there in her Ninja Turtle pyjamas, impatiently wanting to get on with her day.

  ‘Lucy, I’m afraid it really is far too early and you do need to go back to bed for a few hours. Come on, sweetheart, I’ll walk back to your room with you.’

  Jonathan pretended to be fast asleep although I knew he wasn’t really: after so many years of fostering we had both become light sleepers, always alert to the goings-on in the house.

  ‘Do I have to go back to bed?’

  ‘Yes, you do. Look, Jonathan and Maria are still fast asleep. Don’t wake them up. There are lots of things we can do later today, but you need your rest first. Did you remember we’re going swimming with Maria?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well then, you need to get some more sleep or you’ll be too tired to go to the leisure centre and do all the other things I have planned.’

  ‘What are all the other things?’

  ‘OK, well first I was going to make some pancakes for breakfast and I thought you might like to help me. Then I was going to show you where all the toys and books are. We’ve got a computer too, with some games you can play, and then if you wanted to, you could come into the shop when I give Barbara a break, and I can teach you the names of some of the flowers. Then we’ll go for a swim after the shop’s shut. Oh, and we need to buy you a swimming costume, don’t we?’

  By the time I’d finished spinning out all the ‘plans’ I had, which were mostly ideas that came to mind in the spur of the moment, we’d reached Lucy’s room and she was climbing into bed.

  ‘Can I do something good in the shop, like serving customers? I don’t just want to learn flower names. I’m not very good at remembering things. I’d rather pack the boxes. Can I do the deliveries with John?’

  ‘With Jonathan?’

  ‘Yes, that’s what I meant. Jo-na-than. See I told you I had a bad memory.’

  ‘I’m sure you can help Jonathan. We’ll talk about it again at breakfast time.’

  I showed Lucy the clock and checked she could tell the time. ‘If you wake up before 7.30, please try to go back to sleep or do something quietly in your room, like reading a book.’

  ‘Have you got any Lego?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can I do that? Can I build something?’

  ‘Yes. It’s in the top of the cupboard, hang on a minute.’

  I fetched the Lego bricks and Lucy grinned. ‘What about Meccano?’

  ‘We did have some of that but it hasn’t been played with for years. I think it’s in the loft now. I’ll ask Jonathan later. Now you try to get back to sleep.’

  Lucy appeared at our door at 7.30 on the dot.

  ‘Can we make pancakes now?’

  Luckily I was already awake and I didn’t mind getting straight up.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Just give me a minute. You go down to the kitchen and wait quietly for me. Don’t start without me, please just wait.’

  I put on my dressing gown and slippers and went to the kitchen, where Lucy was already searching the cupboards.

  ‘Do you know what we need to make pancakes?’

  ‘A mixer.’

  ‘Yes, but I meant the ingredients.’

  ‘No. I want to see what kind of mixer you have. My granny has got a really good one. A super-duper mega-big fast one, with lots of spinny things you can nail on.’

  I imagined she meant different blades and tools you could attach. I smiled, and found myself rummaging in a cupboard, hoping my little hand-held mixer wouldn’t be too disappointing. I’d had it since I got married so it was at least twenty years old and had seen better days, but Lucy looked approvingly at it. ‘My auntie has got one of these. My stepmum had one too. I hated her.’ Lucy twisted the two whisks in her hands as she spoke, admiring how shiny they were and snapping them into place.

  ‘You hated your stepmum?’

  ‘Yes. She told my daddy lies. Lots of lies and fibs. Big fat liar! She put salt in my tea and pins in my bed. She wanted to hurt me.’

  ‘She wanted to hurt you?’

  ‘Yes. But she said I did it all myself, to get her in trouble. She said I wanted to get rid of her. I did want to get rid of her. I was frightened of her, I was. I thought she was going to kill me and my brothers and sister.’

  ‘You did? You thought that did you, Lucy?

  ‘Yes. She wanted Daddy all to herself. Big fat hairy liar she was! I hated her. That’s why I hated her. Can we have sugar on the pancakes? Have you got syrup? Daddy likes lemon and sugar but I like just sugar or syrup. Or chocolate spread.’

  Lucy stared at me, her face expressionless.

  ‘Yes, I’ve got sugar and syrup but not chocolate spread. So, you said you were frightened of your stepmum, and you wanted to get rid of her?’

  ‘Yes, I was. She hated me. She was so horrible to me. Anyway, that’s that! Can I press the button and do the mixing? Whizz-whizz. I like things that go whizz-whizz and make a noise.’

  ‘Yes, you can but I’ll show you exactly how it works first. There’s a knack, so the mixture doesn’t fly everywhere. Let’s get all the ingredients out first. Do you want a cup of tea or would you like milk or orange, or water?’

  ‘Tea please. Can I make it?’

  ‘I tell you what, how about if I boil the kettle and pour the water in the teapot and you can do the milk and sugar and pour the tea when it’s brewed?’

  ‘Yes. You wouldn’t put salt in my tea, would you? I think you’re nice, not like her. She put dog dirt in my hair and told Daddy I did it myself, on purpose. But you’re nice. You wouldn’t do that. What time does Maria get up?’

  ‘Oh, she’ll be a bit later. She’d not an early bird like you. Mind you, perhaps the smell of the pancakes will get her up. She loves pancakes.’

  ‘I can see that, she’s round, isn’t she? She’s got a big, round belly!’

  ‘Lucy, it’s not polite to talk about the size or shape of another person. I don’t think Maria would like that.’

  ‘Oh, sorry. I didn’t know that. I was only saying.’

  The breakfast went down well, even if it was quite stressful for me supervising Lucy with the kettle and the mixer. She wanted to do everything herself but of course I had to make sure she was safe and supervise her every step of the way. I don’t think she was used to that, and she got a bit irritated. I had sugar and lemon on my pancake and I looked at my plate and thought it was rather apt: Lucy was sweet as sugar one minute and as sour as lemon the next.

  She went to have a shower, clean her teeth and get dressed. I showed her where everything was and left her to it, and while she was upstairs I took the opportunity to quickly make a note in my diary of the things she had said about her stepmother. I had no idea if any of it was true. All I could do was make notes to pass on to Social Services, as I do routinely with any potentially important information.

  As I wrote I found myself desperately hoping that what Lucy had told me was untrue, yet at the same time I also wondered how and why a little girl of eight years old might make up such awful accusations about her stepm
other, if that was what Lucy had done? Even if Lucy’s tales were grossly exaggerated or a complete invention, it was very concerning that Lucy had come out with them, because what did that say about herself and her relationship with her stepmother?

  Whatever the truth, Lucy clearly disliked her stepmother intensely. By contrast, it was clear Lucy adored her dad. She had been absolutely thrilled to talk to him on the phone and she obviously couldn’t wait to see him again. From what Lucy had said about her stepmother wanting her daddy ‘all to herself’ it seemed to me that she resented Wendy for coming into the family and taking some of her daddy’s attention away. Was she jealous of her stepmother and was that at the root of the trouble at home? It was an obvious question to consider, but of course that was all I could do at this stage. I didn’t note down any of my personal thoughts or worries. Social Services only want facts, not opinion. Nevertheless I would keep a close eye on whatever Lucy said on this subject. Getting her integrated back into the family – if that was the safe and proper thing to do – was key.

  Jonathan came back from his deliveries just before lunch and Lucy and I went into the shop to give Barbara her break. I felt quite mentally drained by that time. Maria had gone off to visit her grandmother as soon as she was up so I was alone with Lucy for several hours, during which time she talked and talked and asked hundreds of questions, practically non-stop. She’d shadowed me a lot too, standing on my heels several times because she got so close, as she had done the night before.

  I was starting to see that keeping Lucy occupied was no small task. She’d already built countless Lego cars and houses and got stuck into the Meccano with terrific enthusiasm. I’d had to get the ladders out and fetch it from the loft myself as she was very impatient and couldn’t wait for Jonathan to get back and fetch it, as I’d suggested.

  ‘Can you teach me how this works?’ she asked, peering at everything along the shop counter before fixing her gaze on the till.

  I was serving a customer and Lucy watched me like a hawk.

  ‘I think we’d better leave the till. You need to be sixteen before you can work the till really, but I’ll show you how some other things work.’

  ‘OK. What can I do then? Is there anything that needs doing? What can you show me?’

  Lucy’s eyes were everywhere and my customer made a remark about what a willing little helper I had.

  ‘I know. Aren’t I lucky?’ I smiled at Lucy and asked her to get the door for my customer, as she’d bought a display in a wide basket. Lucy jumped to it and held the door open like she’d done it all her life.

  ‘Thank you! Goodbye! Come back soon!’

  ‘Thanks, Lucy. Now how about moving those carnations into the space by the window? The last of the gypsophila can fit in the corner over there.’

  ‘Gypsy what?’

  ‘Ah, you see, I thought you might need to learn the names. Let me give you a little tour and teach you what’s what. You don’t need to remember them all but I’ll teach you the important ones.’

  I walked Lucy around the displays and all the buckets of flowers on the ground and she hung on my every word. As soon as I’d finished my mini tour she immediately started rearranging the window display and moving the carnations, exactly as I’d suggested.

  ‘These gladiators could go in together now,’ she said thoughtfully, as she busied herself with placing the half a dozen bunches of gladioli we had left neatly into one bucket.

  ‘Good idea. They’re gladioli, not gladiators. You were nearly right, well done.’

  ‘Oh, I thought that was a weird name. Gladioli. I’ll try to remember that.’

  We were in the shop for about half an hour and Lucy busied herself the whole time, not stopping for a second. She was a chatty ball of energy and I enjoyed having her with me. She tidied the area underneath the counter, rearranged some boxes in the storeroom and swept the floor in the back, even though none of the jobs really needed doing. She only seemed to be happy when she was busy and I figured this was no bad thing, although I must admit that when Jonathan returned I whispered to him, ‘Just as well we’re going swimming later. I think we’ll need to wear her out – it might be the only way to get her to stop!’

  I took Lucy shopping in the afternoon, to buy her a new swimsuit. She chose one she liked very quickly, in a large sports shop at the retail park, and I also picked up a couple of pairs of jogging pants for her and two sweatshirts, as the ones she had brought with her were a bit small and worn out.

  ‘It’s nice to have my own stuff,’ she commented.

  ‘I remember you said the swimming costume you brought with you belonged to your little sister.’

  ‘Mmm, yes,’ she said absent-mindedly. ‘And did you know, the jogging pants are my brothers’ old ones? I bet Wendy won’t like my new stuff. She hates me having anything new. What’s the swimming pool like? Can you do diving? Are there slides? Is Maria a good swimmer? Can you and Jonathan swim?’

  I described the pool and explained that all three of us enjoyed swimming and tried to go at least once a week.

  ‘There’s only one diving board and no slides but it’s a decent-sized pool. I think you’ll like it. We all enjoy going.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to it, but I want to see my daddy. When am I going to see him? I want to give him a great big cuddle.’

  ‘I don’t know yet, but you’ll have plenty to tell him, won’t you? You can tell him all about the shop, for one thing.’

  She nodded. ‘When?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know, sweetheart.’

  I explained that there would be a meeting arranged as soon as possible, when Lucy would meet her new social worker. Her dad and stepmother would be invited to the meeting and our support social worker Jess would also be there, as would Jonathan and myself. Jess had told me she was hoping to get this arranged within the week, but nothing was confirmed so I didn’t want to go into too much detail.

  ‘Normally what happens is that everybody sits down together and has a chat about the plans, but we’ll hopefully know more on Monday, when I talk to Jess. Does that sound OK?’

  ‘Yes. So I’ll see Daddy soon?’

  ‘I don’t want to make any promises, but I know Social Services will certainly try to arrange the meeting as soon as they can.’

  ‘Does she have to come?’

  ‘She?’

  ‘Wendy.’

  ‘Your stepmother will be invited but I can’t say for sure if she’ll come.’

  ‘Why is she even invited? I don’t want to see her. I only want to see Daddy.’

  Lucy paused for breath and then stared at me, looking very serious. ‘You don’t know what she’s like. She’s just as bad as Val.’

  ‘Val?’

  Lucy sighed as if she was irritated with me. ‘Val was my old stepmother. I’ve already told you about her. She was the stepmonster!’

  Lucy growled and put her hands up like two clawed paws, as if she were an angry bear. I knew there’d been a film out a few years earlier called Stepmonster so it wasn’t the first time I’d heard this word. I assumed that’s where Lucy had picked it up from, but I couldn’t let her talk like that about her former stepmother.

  ‘Lucy, it’s not kind to use that word. Please say stepmother, or Val, or Wendy. So you were saying, “She’s just as bad as Val”?’

  ‘I told you, didn’t I, what Val was like? I thought she was going to kill me. She hated us. I think she wanted us all DEAD! My brothers and my sister. She wanted Daddy all to herself, just like Wendy does now. Do you know what? She made me wear frilly dresses whenever we went out. She put big bows in my hair and painted my nails with glittery nail varnish. She was such a weirdo. She got me shoes with heels for my birthday and one of the heels broke off. She told Daddy she saw me snap it off on purpose but I never did it. She lied all the time. Big fat liar! I know it was her who put pins in my bed and salt in my tea.’

  The penny dropped. Understandably, when Lucy first spoke about how horrible her ‘st
epmother’ was I had imagined she was talking about Wendy. I didn’t know there had been a previous stepmother. Now I thought to myself, If Lucy’s telling the truth about all these horrible things Val did, at least this woman is off the scene now. At least she is not the stepmother Lucy needs to get along with. Thank God for that.

  ‘So you say you know it was Val who did things like put pins in your bed and salt in your tea?’ I repeated back. I remembered that Lucy had said this stepmother put dog dirt in her hair – how could I forget? – but I didn’t mention it because Lucy didn’t bring it up again.

  ‘She did so many horrible things. Urgh, Val! Hate, hate, hated her. What time are we going swimming? I haven’t been swimming for ages. Can you do front crawl or do you do breast stroke? Is there a snack machine? Can we get hot chocolate and crisps?’

  After collecting Maria from her grandmother’s house we set off to the leisure centre. Jonathan drove, I sat in the passenger seat and the two girls were buckled in the back of the old Volvo estate we had at the time.

  ‘Do you say Granny or Nanny?’ Lucy asked Maria as we set off.

  ‘Nanny,’ Maria said suspiciously. She clearly wasn’t yet sure what to make of the new girl who was suddenly in her face again.

  ‘I say Granny. My granny lives a long way away. You’re lucky your granny lives close by.’

  ‘Nanny.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I call her Nanny, not Granny.’

  ‘I know. You told me. So why are you living with them?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Them.’

  It was clear she was talking about Jonathan and me.

  ‘Why don’t you live at home?’

  ‘None of your business.’

  ‘I was only wondering if you had a mummy and a daddy? So have you?’

  ‘I’m not telling you, nosy parker!’

  Jonathan and I swapped glances and I quickly turned round. It’s unusual for children in foster care to ask one another about their background and Maria wasn’t used to being quizzed like this. It wasn’t Lucy’s fault that she was chatty and inquisitive and didn’t understand the boundaries, but I had to put a stop to this. Maria looked very uncomfortable, and I didn’t want the girls to fall out.