Page 22 of The Dead Ex
The social worker’s voice sounded tired. ‘In Kent.’
‘Will Mum be here?’
‘I’ve told you before, love. You can’t see her for a bit. I know it’s hard, but we’renearly at the Walters’. With any luck, we’ll be in time for tea. Are you hungry?’
Scarlet’s stomach was rumbling as though she ought to be starving but she felt sick at the same time. If she was at home, she’d be getting Mum her dinner.
‘What do you like to eat, Scarlet?’
‘Pizza. Burgers. Whatever we can …’
Scarlet stopped. She’d been going to say ‘nick’. Ages ago, Mum had taught her to putone thing in her supermarket basket and then slip some other stuff under her sweatshirt or in her bag at the same time. But then she remembered that this had to be their secret.
Luckily, Shaggy-Fringe had slowed down now and was too busy looking at the houses to notice that she hadn’t finished her sentence.
‘I’m sure it’s here. On the corner. Ah yes. They’ve built an extension since I was herelast. That’s why I didn’t recognize it. Out we get.’
It was cold. Scarlet’s jumper was thin. And it was the wrong kind of green for school so she’d got into trouble.
‘What colour will I wear at the new school?’ she asked, shivering, as a man walked past, talking loudly to himself and kicking a tin can along like a football. Shaggy-Fringe put a protective arm around her until he disappeared roundthe corner.
‘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 gotrid 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 – witha red swirlypattern – 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.’
