Page 9 of The Taskmaster
“There’s no point sitting in that window, boy. No one’s gonna come for you.”
I ignored the way Mr. Wilson sneered at me, taking pleasure in the pain he wanted his words to inflict. Like a twisting, invisible knife carving my insides and making me feel sick.
I wanted someone to come for me. I prayed every day that my mum might show up. Or Officer Dan, the warm man, who’d held me in my cubby hole. But at night, I just prayed for the morning to come. Those were the worst times.
“Leave him alone, Fred,” one of the women, I think her name was Martha, said. And then she pointed out the window and added, “Here’s Paul, ready to take over from you. Time to clock off, Fred.”
I couldn’t wait for him to go. Watching him walk away down the path was the only joy I felt in this place. If you could call it joy. I don’t know what it was, but it was better than the ache of loneliness or the pain of... other things.
The day staff here weren’t much better, but at least they left me alone, for the most part. The other boys here called me ghost boy, because I didn’t speak. But why would I? My screams were muffled, my cries ignored. Speaking was no use, so I stayed quiet. I kept my thoughts and words inside. They were mine. Only mine. They were the one thing no one else could get at. Like treasure, I kept them locked away. The most precious treasure I had, and no one would ever take them away.
Martha huffed and said she had to get the breakfast ready. But Mr. Wilson stayed in the room with me, lurking closely behind, leering over my shoulder as I sat on the floor, staring out of the huge bay window that looked out onto the street.
This window was like a portal to another world. I dreamed sometimes that I could walk through it and escape. I triedknocking on it once. The repercussions from that I felt later that night, and it stopped me doing it again. It wasn’t worth it.
“You know...” He leaned close to my ear, making me recoil as his hot breath touched my skin. “Your mother isn’t coming for you. Don’t you remember seeing her swinging from her whore neck before you came to us?” He laughed, but his constant reminders about my mother were losing their effect.
When he first taunted me about her death, I’d squeezed my eyes shut, but the tears had still fallen. And my last image of her had hurt my heart, making it difficult to breathe. But now, they were just words. I had no heart. They’d created a shell of a boy, and the little hope I harboured inside wasn’t for my mother. I knew she wasn’t coming.
It was for Officer Dan.
He’d promised me he’d come and find me. He swore he would. Maybe today would be my lucky day and he’d come for me? Then we’d go on the train like he’d promised and end up at the seaside and make sandcastles.
“See you tonight,” Mr. Wilson said, and those words stung.Theyhadn’t lost their effect, because I knew what he meant by them and what it meant for me. I put my hand over my mouth to stop the sick coming up. I didn’t want tonight to come.
I sat by the window, watching people outside living their lives. A man walking his dog. A woman holding the hands of her two children as they skipped along the pavement. A bus trundling past full of people. Where were they going? Could I escape one day and catch that bus and join them?
A black car pulled up outside the house, just as Mr. Wilson stepped out onto the path, ready to leave. When the car door opened and I saw who got out, I let out a gasp. The first sound I’d made in a long time.
He was here.
He’d come for me.
Chapter Six
SILENT BOY
Twenty-Four Years Ago
Istood up and lifted my arms to bang on the window, but the glimmer of hope soon drifted from my body, as I felt the weight of a heavy man behind me, restraining my arms and pulling me out of sight.
I didn’t want to be hidden.
I wanted him to see me.
He had to know I was here.
I trusted him, and he’d said he’d come to get me. Here he was. This was all going to be over soon.
The stench of stale coffee on his bad breath made me recoil as Harold, one of the men here, whispered in my ear, “Now, now, then. Let’s not cause a scene. You need to be fucking quiet, something I know you’re good at.”
I didn’t want to be quiet now, though. Officer Dan was walking towards the gate to the house. Soon, he’d be at the front door. I wanted to shout that he’d found me. That I was ready to leave. I hated it here. But a sweaty hand clamped over mymouth as he held me against him, just out of sight, but not out of earshot.
There was a little window open, and I could hear their voices outside. I tried to bite his hand, get him off me so I could shout, but he was stronger than I was, and his hand was like a vice over my face.
“Can I help you?” Mr. Wilson asked as he stood at the front door.
“I’m Officer Walters. I’ve come to see one of your boys.”
