Stolen Girl (8 page)

‘Mum,’ I sobbed, my bottom lip beginning to quiver. ‘Mum, you’re not leaving us, are you?’ I gasped. The words were so painful that they caught in my throat as if edged with broken glass.

But Mum wouldn’t answer. Instead, she barged past us into the hallway and fled downstairs. I heard her pick up the telephone and dial a number. Dad heard her too – it seemed to make him even worse.

‘And she can take these things with her,’ he said, hurling the rest of her clothes out through the open window.

Mum was talking to someone on the phone but she wasn’t talking in a normal voice – instead she was shouting loud enough so Dad could hear. They were both acting like children, as though this was a game and they were point-scoring to see who could hurt who the most.

‘Yes, he’s throwing my clothes out the bedroom window right now,’ she said, as if giving a running commentary, ‘Yes, the whole street’s watching us. He knows everything and so do the kids.’

Then I realised who it was – it was
him
. Mum was talking to the strange man on our home telephone. At that moment she laughed – it was enough to tip me over the edge. I stood shaking with anger at the top of the stairs and saw red as I watched Mum laughing and flirting with someone I didn’t even know. She was talking to the strange man, the stranger who’d ruined everything, the stranger who was taking my mum away from me.

I raced down the stairs and snatched the phone out of her hand.

‘I hate you!’ I screamed down the phone. ‘You’re a fucking bastard!’ A wild fury rose up inside me as the words streamed
out of my mouth. I didn’t care that I was swearing in front of Mum and Dad, or at the strange man at the other end of the line.

‘You’re not taking my mum away from me, understand?’ I screamed.

Mum snatched the phone from my hand and turned away. I felt utterly helpless – my family was falling apart and there was nothing I could do about it. This was really happening. I dashed past the front room but stopped in my tracks when I saw him. It was my brother Andrew; he’d been sat there the whole time. He’d heard everything. His chin was wedged in his hands and he was staring straight ahead.

‘Mum’s leaving!’ I dramatically announced.

‘I know,’ he replied.

Andrew glanced up at me. His eyes were full of sadness but he didn’t say another word. Instead he just turned back and continued to stare straight ahead at the TV, but the screen was all black – it wasn’t even switched on.

In the end, it was up to Grandma to come over and calm things down. I don’t know who called her or what she said to my parents but at least the shouting stopped.

‘Will everything be alright?’ I whispered to her later that night as I climbed the stairs to bed. The adults were still in the kitchen talking, their voices quiet and serious. Things were calmer, but I wasn’t stupid – I knew the problems were still there.

‘Everything will be fine, Katie,’ Grandma promised. ‘Just get some sleep; you’ve got school tomorrow.’

The following morning no one spoke at breakfast. We all moved around in our own spaces and ate silently, wrapped up in our own little worlds. Mum and Dad looked as if they hadn’t
even been to bed. They were both dressed in clothes from the day before and Mum’s lovely blonde hair was all mussed up.

‘See you later then,’ I offered, looking over at them as I grabbed my school bag from the kitchen worktop. When no one replied I shut the door behind me and headed off towards school.

All day long I waited for someone to say something about the clothes flying through the bedroom window at home but no one said a word, not even the bullies. Perhaps I’d imagined it or perhaps it just hadn’t gotten out round the neighbourhood yet. Maybe I’d still have a few days’ grace before they used it as another weapon to taunt me with.

I confided in Lauren and Megan, although Megan already knew because she lived opposite and had seen the entire thing unfold from her front door.

‘So, are they splitting up?’ Lauren asked gently.

‘I don’t know,’ I answered. ‘But Mum was still there this morning.’

‘Well, that’s a good sign,’ Megan replied.

But I knew it wasn’t and I knew it wouldn’t blow over as it had before. I’d seen the anger in Dad’s eyes. It wasn’t just the clothes; it was the way he spoke about Mum to me, as though he hated her. I’d also heard Mum talking to the strange man I now knew was called Phillip, or Phil. The way she’d laughed at something he’d said, as though it was all one big joke. Well, she was the only one laughing and it wasn’t even funny.

A few weeks after the big row, I walked in through the front door to find the house cold and silent. I sighed as I hung my coat up and that’s when I saw it: a suitcase bunched up close against the wall.

‘Katie,’ Mum called, ‘I’m in here. I need to talk to you.’ I
gulped. This was it. It was really happening, someone was leaving – the suitcase said it all.

The kitchen was still and silent, there was no smell of cooking, no tea on the boil. The house already felt empty.

As I walked past the suitcase Mum came out to greet me in the hallway.

‘Katie,’ she said, taking my hands in hers. ‘I’m leaving.’

She’d barely got the words out before I began to cry. My whole body crumpled as I took in the news.

‘Now then,’ Mum said, cradling me in her arms. ‘It’ll be okay. Look at me,’ she said, cupping my weeping face up in her hands. She stared directly at me.

‘Everything’s going to be alright. We’ll all be together again soon, I promise. You hear me, Katie? I said, I promise.’

But her words did little to comfort me. My heart was already broken in two.

‘Please don’t go, Mum,’ I sobbed, the tears welling up, choking in my throat.

Mum wrapped her arms around me and held me tight, like she did when I was a little girl.

‘Everything will work out fine, Katie, just you wait and see. You’ll still have me and you’ll have Dad – we just won’t live together anymore. But things will be fine, I promise.’

I wanted to believe her, I truly did, but somehow I knew that things could – and would – never be the same again.

‘
I
s that you, Katie?’ Dad called from the kitchen. I shut the front door behind me.

Every night when I came in from school I was hit by the painful reminder that Mum had gone. She had left us and things were different now.

I called out to him and hung my coat on the usual peg. As I did so, I noticed the empty space where Mum’s coat used to hang alongside mine and my heart ached.

Throwing my school bag down in the hall I walked into the kitchen and saw Dad sitting at the kitchen table; his eyes were hollow and sad. He was broken, in more ways than one, but I was only twelve and I didn’t know how to fix him.

‘I haven’t made any tea yet,’ he began to say, his voice apologetic.

‘Don’t worry, I’m not hungry,’ I lied as I wrapped my arms around him to give him a hug. I loved Dad more than anything
in the world but the truth was, since Mum had gone, our home life was in freefall. Now that she’d left, all the things we once took for granted had vanished along with her. I hated her having this new life without us with her new boyfriend. It transpired that the boyfriend, Phil, had been her first true love. They’d dated as teenagers, split up and lost touch, but one fateful night Mum had gone into town with friends and when she saw the same dark-haired slim man standing at the bar she’d recognised him instantly.

Mum explained it was as if all the years that had passed between them just melted away in that moment. She knew then that she and Phil were meant to be together.

‘As soon as we’re sorted with a place of our own I’ll come for you,’ she promised me. I wanted to believe her, but the more the weeks passed, the less I did.

At first Mum and Phil slept in the spare room of a house owned by Phil’s friend. I hated the idea of seeing Mum with this strange man, sleeping with him in the same bed in a stranger’s house we didn’t know. Everything was so alien and unfamiliar.

‘We’ll all be together soon, just you wait and see,’ she promised time and time again over the phone.

I nodded forlornly. I wanted to be with Mum but I also wanted to live with Dad. I wanted it to be the four of us, just as it had always been. But bit by bit, Dad was falling apart. The break-up hit him hard and whilst he tried his best to be there for us, I knew he was struggling. Soon the toll brought him to breaking point. I loved my dad so much and wanted more than ever to make everything alright again, but I didn’t know how.

One day, my brother Andrew approached me in the kitchen.

‘You know my mate, Dean?’ he asked.

I nodded.

‘He likes you and wondered if you wanted to go out with him sometime?’

My eyebrows rose before I could stop them. Dean was nice. He was a few years older than me, the same age as my brother, just fifteen, but I felt as though I’d known him forever.

‘Really?’ I asked, a little surprised.

‘So will you then?’

‘Will I what?’

‘Go out with him?’ Andrew sighed.

I thought about Dean. He was tall, good-looking and a good laugh. I could think of nothing I’d rather do than go out with him.

‘Okay,’ I agreed.

Dean and I met that night and, even though we’d known each other for years, it didn’t feel odd when he kissed me. After that, we started hanging around together. I felt happier than I had in ages because I had Dean now. My brother had a girlfriend and the four of us would all hang out together.

If the weather was good, we’d go for a paddle in a nearby lake. It was perfect, sitting in the sunshine, soaking up the rays in Dean’s arms.

‘I love you, Katie,’ he told me, and I believed him. He was my first boyfriend and it felt nice to be loved. It made me feel special.

At first things were perfect. I turned thirteen, and the more time we spent together, the closer we became. But the turmoil at home affected everything including my relationship, and sometimes we’d argue about silly things for no reason. I’d finish it or he would, but our rows were only ever short-lived and within weeks we’d be back together again.

He took things slowly at first but the heavy petting
eventually led to something else. I loved Dean and I wanted him to love me. I thought being a good girlfriend meant having sex with him. I was young and naive but I let my heart rule my head and, when it finally happened, it felt entirely natural and loving. Dean said he cared about me, and he did. He also insisted on using protection although the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.

I didn’t worry that I was only thirteen and I’d had sex with a boy. Dean was my boyfriend and he was just fifteen – still a kid himself. We were exploring things together and it felt right. We only had a sex a couple of times but I didn’t tell anyone. It was our secret and I loved the idea that someone loved me that much.

One day, after Mum left, she and her new boyfriend Phil came by to pick me up in his car. It was the first time I’d met him properly. I’d seen him in the kitchen that day, of course, but hadn’t paid him much attention. But now I was meeting him for real. Mum said they wanted to take me out for the day. I felt guilty spending it with him instead of Dad, but my father was adamant that I maintain contact with Mum.

‘Go on,’ he said, nudging me towards the door as Phil’s silver car pulled up outside. ‘Have a great time.’

Dad was smiling but I could see he was hiding his true feelings. He didn’t want me to get in that car any more than I did.

‘Will you be okay?’ I asked, my face crumpled with concern.

‘Oh, don’t you worry about me,’ Dad sighed. ‘Now go on, Katie, you don’t want to keep them waiting.’

Mum had told me that Phil had a CD player in his car and she’d asked me to bring along my favourite CD. By now, I was really into the American rapper Eminem but although Mum
had bought me his CD, I didn’t think her stuffy new boyfriend would like it. Instead I randomly picked up a copy of
Now 56
but I was certain Phil wouldn’t know anything on it.

I hung my head and approached the car and that’s when I saw him – the strange man who’d been at our house that day. He was sitting in the driver’s seat with Mum beside him. He was the same age as Dad but he looked younger, with a thick head of black hair. Since the split, Dad had aged overnight. He now looked haunted and old but oddly, Mum looked younger than ever. Her face broke into a huge smile when she saw me.

‘Come on, Katie,’ she gushed, full of the joys of spring.

I reluctantly pulled open the car door and slid onto the backseat. As I did so Phil spun round to face me.

‘Hello, Katie,’ he said, smiling warmly as if we’d been friends forever.

But I didn’t look up; instead I mumbled a short ‘hello’. I didn’t want to be friends with this man, no matter how nice he was to me.

The car started up and soon we were on our way.

‘We’re taking you for a meal,’ said Mum, her voice singing with excitement. ‘It’s a new pub, out of town – I think you’ll love it.’

But I didn’t want to like it. I just wanted Mum and Dad to be back together and for the four of us to be a family again.

‘Okay,’ I shrugged. I didn’t really care.

‘Ooh, did you bring a CD?’ Mum asked.

I handed her the CD and Phil slotted it in the player. I rolled my eyes; I didn’t want to be there with him. Within seconds the car filled with the sound of the Black-Eyed Peas – another of my favourite bands. But then I heard something else: Phil was singing along and he was word-perfect.

‘Do you know this one?’ I asked, astonished someone Mum’s age could know such trendy music.

‘Yeah,’ he grinned, cranking up the volume a bit louder, ‘it’s one of my favourites.’

I flopped back in my seat, flabbergasted.

‘Do you know it, Katie?’ Phil asked, a moment later.

‘Yeah…’ I replied, feeling a little stupid. Maybe I’d misjudged him a bit.

‘Well, sing along then,’ he said, turning up the dial once more, this time to full.

Soon we were all singing along to the music as one song played after the other – Phil knew every word to each song and I was impressed. Maybe Mum’s new boyfriend wasn’t so bad after all. In the end, we sang all the way to the pub and all the way back home again.

By the time we pulled up outside I was buzzing with excitement but as soon as I saw Dad, I immediately felt guilty that I’d had such a good time without him. He’d been at home waiting for me while I’d been off singing, laughing and joking with Mum and her new boyfriend. I tried to hide my excitement and when he asked if I’d had a good day, I just shrugged.

‘It was okay,’ I muttered. It had been brilliant but I didn’t want to make Dad feel even worse.

Phil changed my mind that day and secretly I thought he was pretty cool. It was good to see Mum happy again and smiling in a way I’d never seen her do at home. But the flip side was Dad and the guilt I felt every time I went out and had a good time without him. It felt like a war between my parents and I was the traitor.

One day, a few weeks later I went over to see Mum and Phil, and she led me into a room crammed full of new things.

‘This is all for the flat,’ she said, with a span of her hand.

My eyes scanned the room: it was packed full of essentials. There was an ironing board, a kettle, toaster, towels, even a chest of drawers. I thought how odd it was that we had all these things at home but now that she’d left, Mum had had to go out and buy them all over again for her new life. I shuddered. It all seemed so definite. It was as though when she’d bought new linen and towels, she’d bought herself a whole new life too.

‘You can come and live with us when we move in,’ she promised.

‘Okay,’ I nodded but I turned away because I didn’t want her to see the tears in my eyes.

Two months later, with the new flat secured and a deposit put down, Mum and her boyfriend moved in. Suddenly it was crunch time for me: now I had to decide who I wanted to live with. I felt torn between my parents. Andrew had already decided he would stay with Dad, so I felt as if I had to live with Mum so they could share us out, like possessions.

‘Why don’t you come and have a look at the flat before you make your mind up?’ Mum suggested.

The two-bedroom flat was situated in a modern building directly above a parade of shops. It was a ten-minute drive from my old house but closer to my secondary school, which meant that I wouldn’t have to change schools. It was in a different part of town, which was more run-down than the usual neighbourhood I was used to. As Phil parked his car up on the street outside, I noticed how many Asian families there were living in this area. I did a double-take when I saw a beautiful Indian lady dressed in a sari walk by with her two children. They glanced back at us as we climbed out of the car. I looked
around and realised why: we were white but we were in the minority here and we stood out because of it. This was an Asian neighbourhood. I’d never been to this area before but Mum and Phil had chosen the flat because it was cheap and all they could afford.

Suddenly I felt butterflies rise in my stomach. Maybe it would be good to live here; maybe it’d be exciting living amongst people from a different culture? Suddenly I began to feel hopeful. None of my friends lived in a flat above a shop but I could. It’d be cool to live on one floor, not in a boring house like everyone else. We’d be able to get take-aways all the time.

‘Come on, slow-coach,’ Phil called over to me. He took out a small silver key and slid it into the lock of a narrow navy-blue door at the side of the grocery shop. The lock clicked as it turned and the wooden door swung open as if inviting me into the next chapter of my life.

Soon, we were at the top of the stairs and, as I looked around, I spotted the familiar things Mum had bought over the past few months – it was stuff from the room.

‘What do you think?’ Mum asked, her voice light with excitement.

‘Yeah, it’s really nice,’ I offered.

‘But that’s not all…come on, follow me,’ she said, grabbing at my hand. She led me down a short corridor to another room. I liked the warmth of her hand wrapped around mine and I didn’t want her to let go.

‘Shut your eyes, Katie,’ she said.

I did as I was told; scrunching them up really tight so that I couldn’t let any of the surprise in before Mum had a chance to show me. I heard the noise of a door opening and scraping
against carpet, which was too long and shaggy on the floor. Mum turned me around. I still had my eyes closed but now I was facing a different direction.

‘Open them!’ she squealed.

I opened my eyes and gasped. It was a beautiful girl’s bedroom filled with lovely new things.

‘This is going to be your room,’ Mum announced. ‘Do you like it?’

I clasped my hand over my mouth to stifle my shriek.

‘
Like
it? I love it!’

Mum flung her arms around me and hugged me for all I was worth. I felt so happy that I thought I might burst.

‘Look,’ she said, leading me across the room. ‘There’s even a built-in wardrobe.’

She opened a pair of white wooden doors. The wardrobe was massive inside, with plenty of space for all my clothes. There was a new single bed and a bedside table, with an alarm clock and a lamp on top.

A pair of pale pink curtains hung at the window. They matched the new duvet cover, which was pink with cute love hearts scattered all over.

‘There’s going to be loads of space for all your clothes and your other things, and the best thing is, because we live above a shop, you can play your music as loud as you want because there are no neighbours to hear it!’

I sank down onto the freshly made bed and let the cotton duvet hug my body. Everything was going to be alright.

Mum knew how worried I’d been about moving away from home and leaving Lauren and Megan behind so she’d even arranged for me to meet up with a friend’s daughter called Sophie, who lived just round the corner.

‘And your friends are welcome to come over here anytime too,’ she said, trying to make up my mind.

That night Phil and Mum drove me back to Dad’s. As we pulled up outside, Mum had something to ask.