Page 36 of Dream a Little Dream

Kenny shifted away, sipping his drink. “Where were you in care?”

“Not you as well.”

Kenny furrowed his brow.

“Counsellor Stick was asking all about my background, too. What is it? You got boxes to tick?”

“If we have, we’ve already ticked them.”

“Congrats.” Aaron lifted his tea, took a sip.

“You went to college in London.”

“Correct.”

“Where did you live?”

“A half-way house in Woolwich.”

“Where were you before then? Which school?”

“Many of them.”

“In London?”

“Fuck. Why doyoucare? I got the grades. And if people would actually let me attend the lectures and do the assignments, you’ll see I’m pretty smart.”

“I don’t doubt it. You’re sharp. And you know it. Your personal statement is simpler than it could be, just like how you strengthen your accent when you’re playing tough. But when you relax, or you’re off guard, your real accent comes out. Softer. I’d bet home counties. And when I ask questions, you deflect with responses designed either to satisfy me or to provoke a reaction. Youaresmart. And it’s likely a defence mechanism. But it’s not unconscious.Youare entirely aware of what you’re doing.”

“Oooh, you’re good. Can see why you’re rated five star on Trust Pilot.”

“Were you in a private school?”

Aaron held his gaze, heart thumping. Then laughed. “I’m a care kid. What do you think? London Borough of Newham paying for me to go to Eton?”

“I think you had a vastly different beginning to your education than to the latter half.”

“I was home schooled until I was nine.” Why had he said that?

Kenny nodded, glancing over to the trees with a miniscule smile, as if congratulating himself for being so damn intuitive.

Prick.

Yet Aaron felt a hint of pride, too. Not for having been schooled differently to most in his early years, which had given him a thirst for music, the arts, and nature, but for giving Kenny a reason to feel triumphant in his assumptions.

Why the fuck did hecareabout confirming Kenny’s suspicions?

“What happened when you were nine?”

“Got taken into care. Shunted from one placement to the next. Couple of years in one foster home. Couple of years in another. Got into the half-way house at sixteen because I ran away from—” He shut his mouth, picking up his tea and drinking from it to prevent rattling his life story. Or, well, Aaron’s life story. Because he only started at sixteen. Before that…well, before that, he’d been someone else.

Kenny watched him, as if waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, he asked another question. “Where are your parents?”

“Sitting in an office at the local authority.”

“Not your corporate parent. Yourrealparents?”

“Surely you should know not to ask a kid from care that. They could be in the ground.”

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