Page 83 of The Player
“You need to trust me, little soldier,” she added. “Think of it as a holiday. And in a few days, when you’ve had fun with your brother, I’ll come and get you.” She stared at me, her eyes wide, begging for me to listen properly. “I will. I promise. I won’t leave you there. This is your home. With me.”
I looked from my mum to the other two ladies, and then back at Mum again. I didn’t have a choice here. I had to go. If I didn’t, they’d call the police, and I didn’t want them to arrest my mum. So, I nodded, ran to the corner to pick up two wrestlers, and then stood by the lady and took her hand. I didn’t even know which wrestlers I’d chosen. It didn’t matter.
“You did the right thing, Diane,” the other lady said, bending down to help my mum get up off the floor and sit on the sofa. “We’ll take care of your boys. You need to concentrate on you now. Use this as an incentive. Get yourself straight. Be the mother they deserve.”
I didn’t hear any more.
I didn’t want to.
I let the woman lead me away, walking down our path, feeling like my legs were made of stone; heavy and numb.
Once we were all in the car, the ladies told us they were taking us to a nice new home with lots of other children to play with. They said Clivesdon House was the best, and we’d have a brilliant time there. But when we pulled up outside and I looked up at the white building, and saw a kid sitting in the window with his head in his hands looking miserable, I knew they were lying.
It wasn’t much better when we went inside. Upstairs, we could hear shouting and what sounded like someone kicking the doors or walls. Deep voices were shouting back at whoever was up there, telling them they’d lose their game time, and the boy screamed back that he didn’t care. He told them to fuck off, and then, we saw two men rush past us in the hallway, racing up the stairs, saying that “Obi needed to spend time in the timeout room.”
Obi sounded scary. I’d make sure he stayed away from Frankie and me while we were here.
The ladies led us into a room with a TV and some sofas. There were some toys on the floor, boxes of jigsaw puzzles on the table in the corner, and Frankie soon got distracted by a toy truck and ran over to play with it. I wasn’t that easily swayed, and I stood in the doorway so I could keep an eye on Frankie playing on the floor and the ladies in the hallway who were talking to a man, passing him bags that I recognised from home.
Did they pack our stuff while we were waiting in the car?
I didn’t like that. That was our stuff. Not theirs.
I was about to shout out at them when I heard Frankie talking, and I turned to see him looking up at the kid who’d been sitting in the window when we first got here.
“Me Frankie,” Frankie said, introducing himself. “What your name?” he asked, but the kid didn’t answer, and that made me even madder. “Me like trucks,” Frankie said, ignoring the fact that the boy was being mean, and he bashed his truck into the chair leg that the boy was sitting on.
Frankie made brum-brum noises, but the other kid didn’t join in. He just stared at Frankie like he was a weirdo. I was about to go over to them, but I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up to see a man standing next to me as the other ladies smiled at us.
“You’ll be all right here,” the man said, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “My name’s Mister Masters, but you can call me Paul. I run the house in the daytime. At night, it’ll be a man called Fred, or Mister Wilson as he prefers to be called, who’ll look after you, but he’s loads of fun. I promise. When he gets here later, I’ll introduce you to him.” He knelt so he was at my height and smiled. “Don’t worry, Will. You and your brother will have beds next to each other. The dorms are all newly furnished.” He nodded to where Frankie was playing. “And I think your brother will like the one I’ve assigned to you. It’s got trucks on the wallpaper.”
Paul seemed nice, but I didn’t trust him. Not yet. So I just nodded.
“We’re going to leave you with Paul,” the lady who’d held my hand said. “We’ll be back to check on you, but if you need anything, Paul can give us a call, okay?”
“When’s my mum coming to get us?” I asked, not caring about anything else.
“Let’s concentrate on getting you settled in here first,” she replied, not answering my question. “Look, Frankie has made a friend already.” I turned to where Frankie was, but the other kid was still sitting on his chair, staring at him. They weren’t friends.
I turned back to ask them again when my mum was going to come, but they were already walking to the door and saying their goodbyes.
Once the ladies had left, Paul came back over to me and asked if I wanted to see my new bedroom, but I said no. Frankie was happy playing by himself, but I wasn’t going to leave him. Paul said he’d put our bags in our room for us, and then someone shouted for his help from upstairs. They said Obi was out of control, and Paul apologised, saying he’d catch up with us later before he left to help with the Obi kid.
I walked over to where Frankie was crashing the truck into the skirting boards, and then I looked at the kid sitting in the chair at the window. He was watching too, but he wasn’t smiling like people normally did when they looked at Frankie. He looked bored. Angry even. I didn’t want him directing his anger at Frankie, so I stood in front of my little brother and folded my arms, staring at the silent kid. And silent kid just stared right back at me.
We stayed like that for a while, the two of us staring each other out, but then I grew tired and asked, “Are you waiting for your mum to come and get you? Is that why you’re sitting in the window?”
He didn’t answer at first, and I thought perhaps he wouldn’t answer. Maybe he couldn’t speak. But then he shook his head.
“I don’t have a mum.”
“Your dad then?” I shrugged, leaning against the wall now, trying to look cool in front of him.
“I don’t have a dad either.”
“Me neither,” I said, then added, “He died a while back. Cancer.”
I expected him to say sorry. People usually did, but he didn’t. He didn’t do anything.
