First published in Great Britain in 2017

by Electric Monkey, an imprint of Egmont UK Limited

The Yellow Building, 1 Nicholas Road, London W11 4AN

Text copyright © 2017 Penny Joelson

First e-book edition 2017

ISBN 978 1 7803 1783 0

Ebook ISBN 978 1 4052 8615 2

The moral rights of the author have been asserted

www.egmont.co.uk

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library

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For Michael and Zoe

CONTENTS

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

39

40

41

42

43

44

45

46

47

48

49

50

51

52

53

54

55

AUTHOR’S NOTE

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

1

I tense as soon as I hear the doorbell. I know it’s him. I know it’s Dan. Sarah’s still upstairs getting ready and I hope she comes down soon. I don’t want him coming in here.

Mum calls up to Sarah and I hear her say she’ll be down in a tick. ‘We’ve been keeping her busy, I’m afraid,’ Mum tells Dan, ‘so she hasn’t had much time to get ready!’

‘Ah, I know she wouldn’t have it any other way,’ says Dan. ‘She’s a diamond – and you too. What you do for these kids.’

I listen to them chatting away and Mum laughing at Dan’s jokes. Everyone loves Dan. Then Mum says she must get back to the kitchen, she’s left things on the stove and she’s sure Sarah won’t be long.

It’s quiet for a moment. I hear the distant clattering of pans in the kitchen. Then I hear Dan’s voice, coming closer as he speaks.

‘What are you watching, then? Ah – Pointless !’

I can hear him breathing. Then he whispers, ‘Bit like your life, eh, Jemma?’

He’s standing behind me now, but I can’t see him because my wheelchair is facing the TV. I try to focus on the quiz questions and forget he’s there, but he gives a long, dramatic sigh.

‘Don’t know how you can bear it.’ His voice is low, not loud enough to be overheard. ‘Watching the telly must be the most excitement you get.’ He only speaks like this when no one else is around. He used to ignore me completely, but not any more.

He moves so he is in front of me, blocking my view of the TV. Grimacing, he leans forwards. I get a gulping feeling, a tightness in my throat.

‘If I were you, I’d top myself,’ he whispers.

My heart thuds as he rubs his head thoughtfully.

‘Oh, yeah – you can’t, can you? Listen,’ he continues, ‘if you ever want a bit of help, I could –’

We both hear footsteps on the stairs. Dan backs away. His face transforms from ugly sneer to fake grin, his features softening as if they have been remoulded.

‘I’d have done better than that pair!’ he laughs, pointing to the telly. ‘Reckon we should go on this, eh, Sarah?’

I get a waft of Sarah’s perfume, which is quickly overtaken by the smell of onions frying in the kitchen.

‘I’m useless at quizzes,’ she laughs as she comes into view. ‘I bet Jemma could do it, though, if she had the chance.’

I don’t know about that, although I do sometimes get the right answers. It’s possible I’d be better than Sarah. She’s a brilliant carer, but she’s not too clever when it comes to general knowledge – or boyfriends.

At the edge of my vision, I see her kiss Dan softly on the lips.

Watching them, my own mouth feels suddenly dry.

The pair playing Pointless are out. They look very disappointed.

Dan and Sarah only have eyes for each other. ‘Ready?’ Dan smiles at Sarah. ‘You look stunning, babe.’

She nods and turns to me. Her eyes are sparkly, her cheeks flushed. ‘Bye, Jem. See you in the morning.’

‘See you, Jemma,’ says Dan. He winks at me.

2

‘Sorry to leave you so long, pet!’

Mum bundles into the room and I’m relieved to hear her warm, soft voice. She switches off the telly and pushes my wheelchair into the kitchen, to my place at the end of the table.

I hear the car on the drive. Dad’s back from taking Finn to his swimming lesson and picking up Olivia from ballet. Soon the kitchen is noisy and cheerful, as usual, and I push Dan out of my mind.

Olivia’s boasting to Mum about how good her dancing was and I watch as she shows Mum the new steps, while Mum tries to get her to sit down at the table. She’s nine and has only been here a year. We’re all fostered – I’ve been here since I was two and so has Finn, who’s nearly six. I’ve heard Mum say Olivia was ‘hard to place’. Maybe that goes for Finn and me too, though Olivia’s problems are different from ours. Finn is autistic, and right now is lining all his beans up neatly on the plate with his fingers. He’s obsessed with straight lines. Olivia’s a whirlwind – sometimes a tornado – and she’s loud. Finn and I don’t speak, so life is very different and much noisier since she came.

‘Sit down, Olivia!’ Dad says in his ‘firm but kind’ voice, and Olivia finally does. At least she doesn’t start one of her tantrums.

Mum serves up Dad’s shepherd’s pie and beans then starts feeding me my mushed-up version. Dan’s words creep back into my head while I’m eating and I try to shut them out.

‘If I were you, I’d top myself. Listen, if you ever want a bit of help, I could – ’

I can’t believe he said it – as if my life is worth nothing!

Olivia is wolfing down her food like she’s never eaten before. She’s skinny, but she has a huge appetite. Finn isn’t eating. He’s still lining up his beans, concentrating as if his life depends on it.

‘Come on, Finn,’ Dad coaxes. ‘Time to eat them now.’

But Finn clearly doesn’t think his line is straight enough.

‘Finn, my love,’ says Mum gently, ‘why don’t you start with the pie?’

I don’t think Finn is listening to Mum, but I think he’s happy now with his line of beans. In any event, he forks a small amount of shepherd’s pie into his mouth.

Mum spoons some more into mine.

‘I saw Paula earlier,’ she tells Dad. ‘She looks dreadful, the poor woman.’

‘Still no news, then?’ Dad asks.

Mum shakes her head.

‘News about what?’ Olivia demands.

Paula lives down the road, and her son, Ryan, was murdered last month. He was nineteen and he was stabbed to death and no one knows who did it. Everyone’s talking about it, though – it’s even been on the radio.

Dad quickly changes the subject.

‘Finn’s swimming like a fish now,’ he tells Mum. ‘He’s come on so fast.’

‘And I was really good at ballet!’ Olivia says, never wanting to be left out.

‘I’m sure you were,’ says Dad.

‘How was school?’ Mum asks Olivia.

Olivia shrugs.

Olivia never wants to talk about school. It’s like it’s some big secret for her.

I have no secrets of my own. I’ve never done anything without someone knowing about it. I’m fourteen years old and I have severe cerebral palsy. I am quadriplegic, which means I can’t control my arms or legs – or anything else. I can’t eat by myself. I can’t go to the loo without help. I can’t move without someone lifting me with a hoist or pushing me in a wheelchair. I also can’t speak.

I’ve been this way all my life. I can see, though, and I can hear, and sometimes people forget that; they don’t realise that I have a functioning brain. Sometimes people talk about me as if I’m not even there. I hate that.

And sometimes people tell me their secrets. I think it’s because it’s quite hard to hold a one-way conversation. If they are alone with me, they want to talk to pass the time and they end up telling me stuff. They know I won’t tell anyone else so they think telling me is safe. The perfect listener.

Sarah told me her secret. She’s cheating on Dan. She’s still seeing Richard, her old boyfriend, because he’s so sweet and she can’t bear to hurt him by breaking up with him. Neither of them knows the other exists.

I’m always worried when Sarah has a boyfriend, although I enjoy the way she gossips to me about them. She has this dream of a fairy-tale wedding – she’s even shown me pictures of her ideal wedding dress online. I know I should want her to be happy – and I do. It’s just that I’d miss her so much if she went off to get married. She’s the best carer I’ve had.

More than that, I don’t want her to marry someone who isn’t good enough for her. And I definitely don’t want her going off to marry Dan.

3

Sarah’s in a great mood when she’s back on duty the next morning, though I can tell she’s got a hangover and is trying to hide it. She’s drinking loads of coffee. She clearly had a good night out with Dan and is singing a track by our favourite band, Glowlight.

She’s wheeling me from my bedroom to the kitchen when I hear the clunk of post landing on the mat. Sarah stops to pick it up and puts the small pile of letters on the kitchen table.

‘Oh look – one for you, Jemma,’ she comments. As she pushes me into my place, I see that the top letter, though addressed to Mum and Dad, has my name on it too – Parents/guardians of Jemma Shaw. I rarely get post. I wonder what it could be?

Mum picks up the pile and glances down. Then she quickly moves my letter to the bottom and puts them all on the kitchen counter. Sarah doesn’t seem to notice.

Now I am even more curious. Why doesn’t Mum want to open it?

After breakfast Sarah goes to get Olivia ready and Dad gets up to leave for work. Mum follows him out into the hallway to kiss him goodbye. Their voices are muffled, but I can pick out Mum’s words. She says, ‘There’s been another letter. I haven’t read it yet, but I think we’ll have to tell her.’

I strain to hear Dad’s reply. ‘Yes – she is family. Jemma has a right to know.’

Family? What are they talking about? If only I could ask. It sounds like they’re planning to tell me. I just have to hope that they do.

Dad’s gone and Sarah’s in the kitchen with me, easing my arms gently into my coat, ready for school. I’m conscious that my letter is still there, at the bottom of the pile on the counter.

Olivia’s moaning that she can’t find her reading book.

Mum sighs. ‘When did you last have it, Olivia?’

Olivia shrugs. ‘Dunno.’

‘Have a look in your bedroom, will you?’ Mum tells her.

Olivia slopes off slowly towards the stairs.

‘Sarah, can you go with her? I can’t see it down here.’

‘Sure,’ says Sarah. ‘You’re ready, Jemma. That’s one down at least!’ She hurries off after Olivia.

‘Where’s Finn’s water bottle?’ Mum mutters to herself. ‘I’m sure I washed it yesterday. I bet you know where I put it, Jemma.’

As it happens, I do know. I saw it fall off the draining board and down behind the bin.

The doorbell rings and Mum wheels me towards the door. We never know if it will be my minibus or Finn’s cab that comes first. Today it’s the cab that takes Finn to his special school.

Mum sighs and pushes a spare green water bottle into Finn’s bag, which is not going to please Finn as he always has the blue one. She helps him with his coat and gives his hair a quick comb. He wriggles away as fast as he can and out the front door with his taxi escort, Jo.

‘Reading book found,’ Sarah says, coming down the stairs.

‘I hope you said thank you, Olivia?’ says Mum, though she knows full well that Olivia hasn’t.

‘It wasn’t me who lost it, Lorraine!’ Olivia protests. ‘Why do you always have a go at me? It’s not my fault!’

She stamps her feet and I’m relieved when the doorbell rings again so I can leave before Olivia starts screaming.

But all I think about as the minibus jolts along the road is the letter. I try to work out what Mum and Dad were talking about. Family? Mum has an aunt and Dad has a brother, but we don’t see much of them as they live a long way from here. Were they talking about their family? Or . . . or could it be mine – like my natural mum, the one who gave birth to me and then dumped me? Could she have finally decided she wants to see me?

I hope it’s not her. I don’t want to see her – not ever! She probably only wants to get a look at me and gawp. I hope Mum and Dad tell her to get lost.

As soon as Dad is back in the evening I am waiting for them to talk to me – but they don’t say anything. I couldn’t even see my letter in the kitchen at dinner time. The whole pile had gone. Have they changed their minds or are they waiting for Finn and Olivia to be in bed, so they can talk about it? I’m not exactly looking forward to a conversation about my birth mum, but waiting for it and wondering about it is even worse.

Dad washes up while Mum and Sarah put Finn and Olivia to bed. It seems like it takes forever, even though I know it is probably just the normal amount of time. But then, finally, when it’s nearly my bedtime and I’m watching TV on my own, Mum and Dad both come in. Mum pauses the TV and Dad turns me round to face the sofa and sits down, looking serious.

He has the letter in his hand. I get a surge of relief mixed with panic.

‘We’ve got something to tell you, Jemma,’ he says gently. ‘Something important.’

My heart is beating so fast. Suddenly I don’t want to hear – I don’t want to know.

‘We’ve had a letter,’ Dad continues, ‘from social services.’ He pauses, as if unsure how to carry on.

Mum sits down beside him. ‘Jemma, I know this is going to be a bit of a shock and I will explain why we haven’t told you before . . .’

I wait.

Dad reaches out and touches my hand. ‘You’ve got a sister, Jemma.’

What?

A sister?

Mum sighs and smiles. ‘Her name’s Jodi.’

I try to take it in. The shock is making me breathless. A sister. I was so sure it was my birth mum wanting to see me. A sister – a sister is something completely different.

‘The thing is,’ Mum continues, ‘we knew she wasn’t told about you. So we thought it might be upsetting for you to know about her. But she found your name mentioned in some papers and . . . I’m sorry, Jemma. It’s been hard to know what to do.’

They knew! All this time Mum and Dad have known that I have a sister. So many feelings are swirling round inside me. The thought of them not telling me makes me angry – but Mum’s right. It would have been hard knowing about her if she was never going to know about me. I am still in shock, but I’m curious too.

A sister. My sister. I start to wonder what she’s like – how old she is . . .

‘The papers Jodi found, they were her adoption papers,’ Mum continues. ‘You and Jodi were split up when you were taken into care. Your natural mum couldn’t cope – she had a lot of problems. She was very young, and on her own.’

I’ve sometimes imagined it – my mum giving me up. I could even picture her face, horrified at her own baby, unable to cope with what I was. But there were two of us – two children. That idea never entered my head. And she couldn’t look after my sister either. Is my sister disabled too? I’m not sure what to make of this – but I know it changes things. It changes everything.

‘Jodi’s been asking if she can . . . contact you,’ says Dad, drawing me out of my thoughts.

I get a surge of excitement that quickly sinks when I think what they would have had to tell Jodi – that I can’t exactly contact her back.

‘She’s been persistent, but we weren’t sure if it was a good idea,’ says Mum. ‘It’s so hard when you can’t tell us how you feel about it. . . . But we’ve told her about you, and we’ve said she can write to you. I hope it’s what you want, Jemma. I really do.’

My sister! I’m still finding it hard to believe that I have one. I wonder how much she’s been told about me. Will she really want to know me once she finds out what I’m like? I am thrilled, though. I can’t wait to know more about her. She’s going to write to me! My sister is going to write to me!

4

‘I still can’t believe you’ve got a sister and no one told you!’ Sarah exclaims, as she picks up a book to read to me in bed. ‘I knew nothing, Jemma. Your mum and dad never even mentioned her.’

I definitely believe her – if Mum and Dad had told Sarah about Jodi she’d have let something slip. She’d never keep something like that from me.

‘Me and my sister Kate,’ says Sarah, ‘we don’t always get on, but I can’t imagine growing up and not knowing her. I bet you can’t wait for a letter from Jodi!’

Sarah keeps mentioning Jodi over the next couple of days. It’s like she’s as excited as I am. I wish I could tell her how nervous it makes me, though. What if Jodi doesn’t write?

At least it means Sarah’s not talking about Dan so much. I can almost start to pretend he doesn’t exist. In fact, today Sarah isn’t talking at all – she’s concentrating as she battles to get my rebellious arms into the sleeves of a jumper. My muscle spasms are worse than usual because I’ve not been sleeping well. Thinking about my sister has been keeping me awake.

‘Tonight’s the night,’ she whispers. I wonder what she means. She’s not seeing Dan again, is she? She’s seeing so much of him I’m scared sometimes that she’s going to run off with him! But of course, she’d never do that.

‘I’m splitting up with Richard,’ she says. ‘It has to be done – I’m not being fair on him.’ She runs a brush quickly but gently through my short tangly hair. ‘I can’t keep putting it off. I know he’ll be gutted, though – he’s such a softy.’

At last Sarah is doing the right thing. It’s no good going out with someone just because you feel sorry for them. Now she just needs to dump Dan too! I wish she had more sense with men. She’s had a few boyfriends since she’s been here and they’ve all been hopeless. Like Jason, who was always borrowing money from her and never giving it back, and a guy called Mario who was only interested in football and a total bore. Next was wimpy Richard. And then Dan came along.

Sarah’s in her room getting ready to go out when the doorbell rings. She’s meeting Richard in town, so I know it’s not him. I’m in the living room, but the door’s open and for once I’m at an angle where I can see into the hall. Dad opens the front door. I hear Dan’s voice greeting him.

What’s he doing here? Sarah is definitely not expecting him.

Dad invites Dan in and I hear the front door shut, then I watch them as they chatter about the weather. When Dan sees Sarah all dressed up, what’s he going to think? He’ll get suspicious for sure. I strain to listen, but now Olivia’s started one of her tantrums. She’s lying on the floor somewhere behind me, kicking and screaming like a two-year-old except twice as loud.

I hear Dad call upstairs, ‘Sarah! Dan’s here!’

He’s assumed Sarah’s going out with Dan tonight!

At least he’s warned her – it would be awful if she came down and just found Dan in the hall. I have no idea what she’s going to do.

Thankfully Dan doesn’t come into the living room – I think Olivia’s screaming has put him off. Mum comes in to see what’s up with her, saying a quick hello to Dan as she passes. She turns my wheelchair round, which is annoying as I’d rather watch what’s happening in the hall than look at Olivia, who is lying on the floor at the far end of the room, pointing and screaming. Now I can see what’s upset her. One of her ballet shoes is trapped on the candelabra light fitting, near the ceiling. Finn must have thrown it up there. He’s got good aim.

Mum calms Olivia and says Dad will get it down. Finn is nowhere to be seen. Mum turns me to face the TV and switches it on. Then she pulls Olivia up gently, hugging her, and holds her hand to lead her out. I hear them going upstairs.

I’m conscious that Dan is still in the hall. Sarah calls to say she’ll be down in a few minutes. Then I hear Dan sigh. He walks into the room and goes straight to the telly and picks up the remote, flicking through channels. He’s acting as if I’m not even here. I wish I could say, ‘Oi! I was watching that!’ even though I wasn’t really.

He settles on the news. I don’t want the news. On the screen I can see a coffin being carried into a church. A reporter is speaking. It’s only when I hear him say the name Ryan Blake that I start paying attention properly.

Ryan – from down the road. It was his funeral today. I want to know what the police have found out. Mum and Dad think Ryan might have been into drugs.

‘Police are still appealing for witnesses,’ the reporter continues, ‘and his parents are pleading for anyone who knows anything to come forward.’

Dan suddenly turns towards me.

‘You don’t know anything . . . do you, our Jemma?’ he sniggers.

I can’t bear him calling me ‘our Jemma’, like he’s part of the family or something.

‘Here’s a secret for you,’ he continues, ‘and I know you won’t go telling anyone.’ He winks. There’s a pause. He presses his face close to mine, so close I can feel his hot breath on my cheeks. ‘They’re never gonna catch me!’ he whispers, screwing up his eyes and then nodding at the screen. He stands back, smiling, as if he’s gloating. ‘There’s something for you to chew on, freak !’

Sarah’s feet patter on the stairs.

Dan quickly flicks the channel over to a game show.

Catch him? What did he mean?

It’s a wind-up – it must be . . .

‘Hiya, babe,’ he says.

‘What are you doing here?’ Sarah asks. I see her arms flapping a bit like Finn. I can tell she’s panicking, but she’s also gazing longingly into Dan’s eyes. She won’t cancel on Richard to go out with Dan, will she? She needs to split up with both of them. I wish she could hear what I’m telling her in my head.

‘You left a glove in my car,’ he tells her. ‘I only found it today. I was passing so I thought I’d pop it in. Don’t want you getting chilly fingers!’

‘Oh, thanks! I was wondering where it was,’ she replies. ‘But I’ve got to get a move on. I’m off out with Emma and Rihanna – we’re going to the cinema.’

‘Out again?’ he says.

‘Yes, I switched my next night off. It’s Emma’s birthday,’ Sarah says quickly. Sarah seems to have her excuse ready prepared – but I guess this is what she’s told Mum. ‘We’re having a girls’ night out. Becks is coming too. We’re seeing that film you said was for soppy teenage girls.’

‘No way!’

‘Yeah, really.’ Sarah laughs for a little too long. ‘And I’ve gotta go or I’ll be late.’

‘No worries, I’ll give you a lift,’ says Dan.

‘No, Dan. I’m fine,’ Sarah assures him.

‘It’s no prob,’ says Dan.

‘Oh . . . All right, then.’

An uneasy feeling grips my chest. I don’t want her to go with him. What he said to me . . . Surely he was joking. Dan’s horrible, but he wouldn’t actually kill someone. Would he? And why did he turn up here this evening? It doesn’t feel right. Maybe she’s done something to make him suspicious. Was he trying to catch her out?

Sarah says goodbye to me and touches my hand gently. Her hand is hot – she knows this is a mess and she briefly meets my eyes with a look that says she knows I know this too. She turns to the door.

‘Bye, Jemma,’ Dan says, winking again. I see his sneering face in my head when he called me freak and remember what else he said. I don’t trust him one bit.

They go and I hear the front door bang shut.

Dad comes in and stares up at the ballet shoe on the light fitting, muttering, ‘You’ve got to be joking,’ under his breath.

5

Mum gets me ready for bed, but I’m barely listening as she chats away about needing to get me some new clothes. What did Dan mean?

If only Mum could see inside my head – the thoughts spinning round. But I know on the outside I must look exactly the same as I always do. Nothing shows. No one knows.

He must have been joking. If he was involved then wouldn’t we have heard something? Wouldn’t he be a suspect? Even so, I wish I could tell someone. Just so they can know what he’s like. Just in case.

If he was confessing, then he knew he was telling the one person who would keep his secret safe. Maybe he thinks I don’t even understand what he says. I just want to know for sure. Because if Dan is a murderer, and he finds out Sarah is cheating on him . . .

I can’t sleep at all, waiting to know that Sarah is safely back. My room is downstairs, but at the back of the house, and I listen for the sound of the front door. Finally I hear her come in, but I’m facing away from my bedside clock so can’t see the time. Maybe she’ll come in to turn me – I have to be turned in the night so I don’t get sore from being in one position. Yes. I can hear her footsteps.

She’s breathing quite fast and her hands aren’t as gentle as usual. She catches my eye in the dimmed light, and sees that I’m awake. I will her to tell me what happened. Sometimes Sarah seems to read my mind. That’s one of the things I love about her.

‘That wasn’t the best evening of my life,’ she whispers.

I wait eagerly for more. She sits down on the edge of the bed.

‘I can’t believe Dan turned up! That glove thing was just an excuse, don’t you think? He’s getting so serious – he said he couldn’t bear to be apart from me.’ She laughs. ‘I sat in his car with my fingers crossed that he wouldn’t think something was wrong. Then he wanted to actually come into the cinema with me, but luckily it was really hard to park so he couldn’t.’

She runs her hand through her hair. Only Sarah would get herself into this situation.

‘I was scared he might hang around so I texted Richard from the loos to say I’d be late and waited ten minutes before I even dared walk to the pub! You’ve gotta laugh, Jem.’

Sarah is not taking this seriously at all. At least it sounds like Dan didn’t catch her out.

‘When I got there,’ she continues, ‘Richard looked so pleased to see me. I just couldn’t do it to him.’

My heart sinks. Sarah is fidgeting and looks excited about something. Has she changed her mind and decided she wants to be with Richard after all?

‘Jem, he’s only gone and booked tickets for us to see Glowlight next month! It’ll be amazing!’ She gives me a sheepish look. ‘Is it really bad if I keep going out with him until then?’

Glowlight! Well, it’s not great to use him for his tickets, but it is Glowlight. Maybe I’d do the same . . . No, this is wrong. Sarah needs to break up with Richard!

‘Perhaps we could just go to the concert as friends,’ she continues. ‘But I don’t think Richard would like that. I know Dan wouldn’t.’

She sighs and smooths my duvet down.

‘I’m such a coward, Jem.’

I don’t know what I’d do if I were Sarah – though I’d like to think I wouldn’t get myself into such a mess in the first place.

6

When the minibus drops me back from school on Monday, Mum tells me we have visitors. She pushes my wheelchair into the kitchen, where Mr and Mrs Blake are drinking tea. Paula and Mum have known each other for years, but more to say hello in the street than as actual friends. I remember her coming to Mum a few times when Ryan was young and playing up, asking Mum for advice. I think there was a time when she even hoped Mum would foster him.

Since Ryan died Mum’s tried to be supportive, and Paula’s been round here a few times. Graeme – Mr Blake – doesn’t usually come with her, though.

Paula says hi to me and smiles, but her grief is clear in the deep lines on her face and her drooping eyes. Graeme shuffles awkwardly and taps the rim of his mug with his finger. I can tell that I make him uncomfortable. I notice he’s kept his black outdoor jacket on while Paula has taken off her coat. He’s clearly hoping not to be here long.

‘I know he was no angel,’ Paula is saying to Mum, ‘but I was so hard on him – always nagging, criticising, going on at him to change. The last thing I said to him was, “Get out and don’t come back!” Can you believe it? That’s what I said!’

She bursts into tears.

Graeme touches her shoulder and shuffles awkwardly again.

Mum hands Paula a tissue.

‘I know,’ says Mum, ‘but you could never have known what would happen. You were trying to set boundaries. He knew you loved him. He knew that’s why you kept on at him.’

‘Do you really think so?’ Paula sobs.

When we were little, Ryan used to stick his tongue out at me if he passed me in the street. Then when he got a bit older, he called me ‘Spaz’ or ‘Spazzie’ or worse things. He even spat at me once.

I don’t miss Ryan, but obviously I feel horrible for Paula. Ryan was a loser, but he was still her son – and Graeme’s.

I look at Graeme. He’s like a block of stone.

Paula sips her tea. ‘I can’t bear the thought that the monster who did it is walking around free. I might pass him in the street and never know.’

Dan’s face comes into my mind. Yes, you might, I think. He was here – he was here in this house, I want to tell Paula. A sound comes out of my mouth, a strained gurgle. Paula glances at me and quickly away again.

I wish I could tell them what he said. Just in case. I don’t know if Dan and Ryan even knew each other. They’re very different. And Dan doesn’t seem like he’d be involved with drugs and gangs and stuff. Or maybe he’s just good at hiding it. ‘We’d better be off,’ Graeme says gruffly.

Paula turns and gives him a bewildered look as if to say, ‘Off where? Off for what? What is there to be off for?’

But she pulls herself up from the chair and Graeme helps her on with her coat.

‘At least the Crimewatch thing might help,’ I hear Mum say, as she sees them out. ‘Let’s just hope someone calls in and the police get a lead.’

So Ryan’s murder is going to be on Crimewatch ! Maybe that will make everything clear. I hope Mum and Dad will let me watch it. I’ve never seen it, but I know about it – how they reconstruct crimes, and people watching can phone up if they know anything. Maybe there will be some clue that will tell me if Dan really did it – and if he did, then Sarah or Mum or Dad or someone else watching will surely realise it was him.

7

Sarah greets me when the minibus drops me back from school on Tuesday, with a smile even bigger than her usual cheerful one.

‘Ooh, Jem! A letter’s come from your sister!Your mum hasn’t opened it. She’s waiting for you. But I hope she’ll show me later! I’m dying to know what she’s said.’

Sarah wheels me into the kitchen, announcing ‘Jemma’s home!’ to Mum. She doesn’t go – I think she’s hoping Mum will let her stay.

‘Thanks, Sarah,’ says Mum.

Sarah shoots me a pretend annoyed look and leaves, closing the door after her.

We sit at the kitchen table and Mum carefully opens the white envelope.

My heart thuds.

‘Are you ready for this?’ Mum asks.

She puts the letter down so I can see it.

‘Dear Jemma,’ she reads. ‘I didn’t know you existed until a few months ago. I found some papers in a drawer that were about me. One of them had your name on it under mine. My name is Jodi and I am your sister! ’

Mum pauses and looks up at me, before continuing.

‘In fact, more than that, Jemma. We are twins! ’

Twins? Mum never told me that.

‘We must have been born only minutes apart,’ Mum reads. ‘The thing is – I’ve always had this weird feeling – like something was missing. When I found out about you I thought – this is it! This explains it. I have a twin sister. We spent nine months together before we were born and we’ve been separated ever since. ’

Missing? I’ve never felt that. But maybe that’s because so much else is missing for me – like legs and arms that work and a voice.

Mum is still reading.

‘Now I’m going to tell you some stuff about me. I live in Enfield – only a few miles from you! I live with my mum and dad (the ones who adopted me), but I don’t have any brothers or sisters. I’ve ALWAYS wanted a sister.

‘Favourite things. Colour – purple. Food – ice-cream sundae. Sport – hockey (I play for the school team). Pet – cat (mine’s called Fluff – she really is like a fluffy white bundle and I love her to bits! She went missing last year and was found up a tree after three days!). People – my best friend, Ava, my boyfriend, Jack, and my parents too. They are lovely and even though I was angry that they didn’t tell me about you and they were upset that I found out, they’ve calmed down now and said they’re sorry that they didn’t tell me before.

‘There’s so much more I could write, but I’ll stop now as I’ve got tons of homework.

‘I know you have disabilities and that you can’t write back. I’ve been told about that. It’s no big deal. Don’t worry, I’ll keep writing!

‘I’ve put in a photo of me, though our printer at home is rubbish and it’s come out a bit dark. I’ll try to find a better photo – and maybe next time I’ll send you a picture of Fluff too!

‘I will write again soon.

‘Love, Jodi x. ’

Mum holds the photo so I can see it. It’s kind of blurry, but Jodi has dark hair like mine and her eyes are a bit like mine too. She looks pretty.

‘I’ll reply for you, Jemma,’ says Mum. ‘And I’ll encourage Jodi to keep writing. We’ll take things slowly and hopefully one day you’ll be able to meet her.’

I’m only half listening. I can’t take my eyes off the photo. That’s my sister – my twin sister!

Mum puts the photo by my bed and looking at it and thinking about the letter keeps me happy for the next couple of days. I am sleeping better too. It is almost enough to stop me thinking about Dan. But when Thursday evening comes I am desperate for Dad to let me stay in the lounge to watch Crimewatch.

Sarah’s upstairs putting Finn and Olivia to bed and Mum’s getting her coat on to go to Weightwatchers. She’s been trying to eat healthily, but I know her secret – I see her hide bars of chocolate between the books on the highest shelf in the lounge.

I’m hoping my limbs stay still and no sounds escape my mouth so she’ll forget I’m here as Dad is more likely to let me watch Crimewatch than Mum. But Mum comes to say goodbye to me and then turns to Dad.

‘I’m not sure Jemma should see it,’ she says. ‘It might upset her.’

‘She’s fourteen,’ says Dad. ‘I bet she’d be interested to see it, wouldn’t you, Jemma?’ He turns to me and back to Mum. ‘It’s not as if she hasn’t heard us all talk about it.’

I wish I could hug Dad.

Mum still looks uncertain. She glances from Dad to me and back again.

Please!

‘All right, then,’ says Mum. ‘Hopefully I’ll be back in time, but if not you’ll have to fill me in.’

When it starts, I’m disappointed that Sarah isn’t here – but Dad calls her, and she brings a basket of washing in with her to fold, and sits on the armchair.

Mum gets back just as they start showing Ryan’s case and she hurries in, still in her coat.

‘Put on two pounds,’ she sighs, and I hear the sofa creak as she sits down next to Dad.

‘Four weeks ago,’ the presenter says, ‘nineteen-year-old Ryan Blake was brutally stabbed to death in Walden Cross. The culprit and motive remain a mystery. Witnesses have helped to make the reconstruction that you are about to see.’

They show actors, including one I can clearly see is meant to be Ryan, drinking in a local pub, the Hare and Hound. Then Ryan and his friends leave and gradually split up until Ryan is left with one friend, who then heads off for home. Instead of going home himself, Ryan doubles back. No one knows why he did this. He heads down a side street, though they’re not sure which one he actually went down – and comes out somewhere behind the station.

That was where his body was found.

‘Did you see Ryan in Warduff Street or Mackenzie Avenue between 11 p.m. and midnight?’ the presenter asks. ‘A man in a black jacket was seen walking along Mackenzie Street just before 11 p.m. This man has not yet been identified. Are you that man or did you also see him that night?’

I try to think like Poirot. I’ve listened to loads of Agatha Christie audiobooks that Mum’s aunt gave me. I need to be observant – to have an eye for anything that might be a clue, even if it seems unlikely. Everyone is a suspect in Agatha Christie. Ryan’s friends seem like a dodgy bunch. Maybe the last friend he was with didn’t go home. Maybe he doubled back too. Perhaps Ryan had lied to him – or one of the others, or ripped them off. But there isn’t much to go on to work out a motive.

What about the man in the black jacket? Dan has a black jacket, but it’s a bit different to the one they showed.

Suddenly I remember Graeme – Ryan’s dad – sitting in our kitchen. His jacket looked like the one on the programme. Graeme? Is it possible? Could he have got so fed up with Ryan that he lost his temper and killed him? One of the crime books I listened to said most people are killed by members of their families. And in Agatha Christie it’s often the quiet ones you have to watch. But Graeme? Murder his own son? It’s easier to believe that Dan did it. I’ve seen what he can be like – even though no one else has.

I want to see Sarah’s reaction, but I’m facing the telly. I wish she’d say something.

‘Police say the alley behind the station is known to be used by drug dealers,’ the presenter continues, ‘but no drugs were found in Ryan’s blood.’ They mention that the knife used hasn’t been found and they give the number for people to call.

‘Right, Jemma,’ says Mum. For a moment I imagine her keying in the number and handing me the phone so I can tell them what Dan said. But of course, she’s just telling me that it’s time for me to go to bed.

Sarah wheels me out as Crimewatch moves on to a series of armed burglaries in Dartford.

8

‘Listen, pet, I’ve got something to tell you,’ Mum says the next evening.

I’m all ears – wondering if it’s to do with Crimewatch. No one’s mentioned it since yesterday and I’ve been waiting for news. Did anyone call the programme? Do the police have any new leads?

Then I wonder if it’s Jodi. Has she written again?

‘You remember I told you about Carlstone College?’ Mum says. ‘I’ve arranged for us to go up there next week.’

My mind whirls – this is so far from what I was thinking about. Carlstone College. When Mum talked about it before, she said I might go there when I’m older – not now. Has she changed her mind?

‘They have a communications expert coming,’ Mum tells me. ‘Professor Spalding. It’s a meeting for any interested families – even those whose children aren’t at the college. I can’t make any promises – but maybe he’ll be able to help you. And we can have a look around too, just to see what it’s like.’

A while ago they showed me this leaflet for Carlstone. Mum said they had amazing facilities and might be able to help me much more than the school I’m at. I liked the sound of the college. I thought I might really enjoy it and they do loads more subjects there. Then Mum told me it’s a three-hour drive from here. I’d have to live there, like at a boarding school.

Mum said if I went there she and Dad would come and visit, and I’d be able to come home some weekends and in the school holidays. I was so relieved the next day when Mum said she thought I was too young, and maybe some time in the future we’d all go and have a look at it. But I thought that meant in a couple of years – not a couple of months.

And what about Sarah? If she came with me it wouldn’t be so bad, but I bet people don’t get to take their own carers. And she wouldn’t want to be three hours away from Dan, would she?

I try to focus on what Mum is saying about the communications expert. Hopefully our visit really is just about seeing this professor. But I can’t stop thinking that it might be something more. The worry is gnawing at my brain, joining the other worries and the questions I can never ask.

I feel myself withdrawing like a tortoise into a shell. Mum’s still talking, but I’m no longer listening.

When Sarah comes to fetch me for dinner she looks at me for a moment and frowns.

‘What’s up, Jem?’

I don’t know how she can tell that something’s wrong, but she can and I’m glad. Maybe my limbs are even stiffer than usual when she moves me. I certainly feel stiffer. Everything aches.

‘I hope you’re not coming down with something,’ she continues.

She looks into my eyes for clues. I wish they could give her some. She feels my brow, inspects my arms, legs and chest for rashes. Then she gets the ear thermometer and takes my temperature. Hopefully once she’s sussed I’m not ill, she’ll work out how unhappy I am.

Sarah wheels me into the kitchen. Everyone else is already at the table, but the cutlery is missing. Finn has removed it and lined it all up neatly on the floor against the wall – a row of forks, then knives, then spoons.

Dad shakes his head at Finn and sighs as he picks them up, and there is a delay while he washes them in the sink. He isn’t angry. He understands Finn.

‘Something’s wrong with Jemma,’ Sarah tells Mum.

I watch Mum’s face. Will she make the connection and realise that what she said before has got me worried?

‘Are you hungry?’ Mum asks me. ‘Sorry dinner’s a bit late.’

I’m not hungry. And now I feel sick at the thought of eating.

Sarah shakes her head. ‘It’s more than that.’

Mum shrugs rather dismissively, and then I wonder if maybe she doesn’t want Sarah to know about her plans, because Sarah will lose her job if I’m sent away.

Once the cutlery is washed and dried, Sarah spoons food into my mouth. I find it hard to swallow. Olivia knocks her cup over – I’m not sure if it is accidental or on purpose, but water spreads in a pool across the table and Dad’s ‘Oh, Olivia’ is enough to start her wailing theatrically. Dad tells her to calm down, which brings on a full-blown tantrum. My head is pounding now.

Mum and Dad are both fussing over Olivia. I scream inside my head sometimes – making the kind of noise she’s making now, but of course no one ever knows.

Sarah aims another spoonful into my mouth. I cough and splutter. I can’t stop coughing. I need a drink. Sarah is distracted, looking at Olivia, and I start to panic. I feel like I can’t breathe. It is a moment before she sits me forward in my wheelchair and pats me on the back. She holds the straw to my lips and looks from me to Mum as Olivia finally stops shrieking. ‘I told you something was wrong. I think she’s going down with something. I’ll sleep in her room tonight.’

No one understands. When I’m worried and I just want reassurance I have no way of getting it. Then my worries just grow and grow. Mum and Dad assume it’s something physical because it so often is, but all I want is to be able to tell them how I feel . . .

‘Thanks, Sarah,’ says Mum. ‘There’s a nasty fluey bug going round. I hope it isn’t that.’

Later, Sarah’s getting me ready for bed when her mobile rings.

‘It’s Dan. We haven’t spoken all week. I’d better answer,’ she says apologetically, ‘or he might think I’m avoiding him.’

She says hello, and then puts the phone on loudspeaker and leaves it on the bed, crouching to take off my socks. I hear Dan’s voice, as clear as if he’s in the room.

‘How was the film, babe?’

Sarah has taken off one of my socks and started on the other one. She stops, bites her lip and leans towards the phone. ‘Great,’ she chirps.

‘Really? What was so great about it?’ he asks.

‘Why do you care?’ Sarah asks. ‘It’s not your kind of film – you said so yourself.’

‘Just asking,’ he says.

There’s a pause. ‘Sorry,’ says Sarah, ‘I can’t chat now. I’m getting Jemma ready for bed. She’s not too well. I’ll call you later and tell you all about it, OK?’

‘Sure – speak later. Love you, babe!’

Sarah puts her phone in her pocket, then laughs. ‘I’ll have to look up some reviews online,’ she tells me. ‘I don’t even know who’s in it!’

9

‘Come on, Finn!’ Mum calls cheerfully as we reach the gate of the park.

When I woke up this morning I had this weird floaty feeling, like nothing in my life is real. I am apparently neither ill nor well. It doesn’t surprise me that my body’s behaving weirdly. All these thoughts have got to get out somehow. Sarah and Mum keep taking my temperature. ‘A bit under the weather’ is how Mum described me. We often go to the park on Saturdays and she said some fresh air might do me good.

‘We’ll go and see the ducks first,’ Mum tells Finn and Olivia.

If I could roll my eyes, I would. I liked being taken to see the ducks when I was six, but right now I’ve got other things on my mind. If we have to be here, I was hoping we were going to the park café. It’s at the top of the hill and I know it’s not easy to push me up there, but from the top you get a view right over the park. I like the feeling of being so high – on top of the world, looking down. From my wheelchair I so often feel low down, looking up at things.

Olivia skips ahead, Sarah’s pushing me, and Mum’s cajoling Finn – who is walking slowly, flapping his hand in front of his face. I think he likes the patterns of light it makes. Soon we reach the pond and we stop by the barrier, near a clump of early daffodils. I watch Olivia throw corn at the nearest ducks as if she’s trying to murder one. I’m sure she just said, ‘Yeah! Got it!’

Mum pushes corn into Finn’s hand and helps him aim, but the corn just drops on to the path. He isn’t really interested and starts to pull away towards the playground.

‘OK, Finn, just a minute,’ Mum tells him.

Sarah’s phone beeps. I bet it’s Dan texting her. I see her peeping at it when Mum’s not looking. I wish she’d tell me what he said.

When we’re in the playground, Sarah wheels me on to the wheelchair-accessible roundabout and pushes the bar gently so it begins to move, before she gets on and stands with me.

‘Just a gentle spin today, hey, Jemma?’

This roundabout is here because of my mum; she campaigned for it for years and I was so happy when it arrived. I used to like going fast. It’s not often I get to do anything fast. I’m too old for it now, though, and especially not today when my head is already spinning. At least Sarah moves it slowly.

‘I’ll push!’ Olivia says, running up.

‘Gently, Olivia,’ Sarah tells her. But she’s pushing too fast so I’m whirling even faster than the thoughts in my head. I want to stop. I want to get off. Now.

‘Olivia! Slow down!’ Sarah yells. She leaps off and brings it to a halt.

Olivia rushes away towards the climbing frame.

‘Sorry, Jemma! Are you OK?’ Sarah asks, touching my shoulder as she pulls the wheelchair off. I feel giddy and breathless. I want to go home. Sarah’s phone beeps with another message.

She parks me next to a bench where we can watch Finn on the swing. She turns me carefully to make sure the low sun isn’t in my eyes. The swing squeaks noisily. Finn would happily swing for an hour, maybe two, if he was allowed.

Sarah takes out her phone again and reads the new message. I wonder if she managed to convince Dan that she really went to the cinema.

Olivia runs round, going on everything. She demands that Mum watches her on the monkey bars and then on the climbing wall. She’s good at climbing as well as dancing.

I might definitely be too old for playgrounds, but I’d rather be here, with Mum and Sarah and Olivia and Finn, than packed off to some college.

I’m well wrapped in a warm coat and have a blanket over my knees, but I’m starting to feel cold. The fresh air is doing me no good at all, which is no surprise to me. I feel weak and muzzy-headed. The squeaking of the swing is hurting my ears.

Sarah looks up from her phone. ‘You’re very pale, Jemma.’

She goes over to Mum and asks if she can take me home.

Mum comes and looks at me and nods at Sarah. ‘Yes, you guys go – we won’t be far behind.’

Sarah pushes me along the pavement, past the local shops, the newsagent’s and the barber’s.

‘Oh, look! See that man coming out of the bookie’s?’ says Sarah. ‘I know him – it’s Billy.’

I’ve heard Sarah call that shop the bookie’s, though I’m not actually sure what they sell. I don’t think it’s books.

‘Hi, Billy!’ Sarah calls, as the man walks towards us. The man has his head down, but his shoulders jolt and he looks up sharply, then stops and smiles at her.

‘Sarah!’ he says. ‘You all right?’

Sarah’s mentioned Billy – he’s a friend of Dan’s. She said Dan calls him ‘Billy No Brains’ which sounded mean to me. Sarah just thought it was funny. My head’s really aching now. I hope she’s not going to have a long chat with him.

‘This is Jemma,’ Sarah tells him. ‘Jemma, this is Billy.’

Billy comes round in front of me and smiles at me too. He has a big head and his smile’s so wide it seems to take up most of his face. But he’s a friend of Dan’s, so I’m sure he can’t be that nice really.

‘Hi, Jemma. How ya doing?’ says Billy. He looks up at Sarah. ‘Dan’s well smitten, you know. He don’t say much, but I can tell!’

Sarah laughs. ‘Really?’

Thanks, Billy, I think crossly. I don’t need him telling her that. Come on, Sarah. Let’s go.

‘He’s a good bloke, you know. Takes care of his mates. Look, I gotta be off,’ says Billy. ‘Nice to see you.’

Good.

‘I’ve got to get Jemma home too,’ says Sarah. ‘She’s not well.’

‘Say hi to Dan from me,’ says Billy. ‘Hope you feel better, Jemma.’

10

At last we’re home and I’m glad to be inside in the warm. My worries slip away and my head feels better. I enjoy a peaceful five minutes in the lounge before I hear a wailing sound from outside. Mum’s key is in the door and the wailing gets louder.

‘Come on, inside,’ Mum is telling Olivia. I hear Finn run past and up the stairs. I think he finds Olivia’s tantrums as painful as I do.

‘It wasn’t my fault! That boy pushed in front of me!’ Olivia blubs.

‘You didn’t have to hit him, though, did you?’ Mum says.

Olivia has thrown herself on the floor and is kicking and screaming at the top of her voice, while Mum tries to calm her down. I wish I could yell and kick like that.

Mum and Olivia eventually go upstairs and the screaming becomes more distant.

By dinner time Olivia’s calmed down. I’m still not hungry, though. Sarah realises this when the food she’s spooning into my mouth just sits there and doesn’t go down.

‘Oh, Jem, you’re really not well, are you? I’ll take your temperature again.’

I don’t have a high temperature, which she soon finds out. After dinner, she leaves me in the lounge with Olivia and Finn. They are changed, ready for bed and watching TV in their dressing gowns. They look cosy and cute, curled up either end of the sofa. It’s 101 Dalmations and I’m half watching too, though I’m not really interested. We’ve seen it loads of times.

Someone’s at the front door and I hear Dad go to open it.

And I hear Dan’s voice.

He’s here again.

‘I was just passing and I wondered if I could have a quick word with Sarah,’ Dan says. ‘It won’t take long, I promise.’

I wish Dad would just tell him to clear off.

‘I’ll call her,’ Dad says.

Dad leaves Dan waiting in the hall and goes to look for Sarah. But of course Dan doesn’t stay there. I hear his breathing as he comes into the living room. I will him to leave me alone.

‘Hiya, Jemma,’ he says.

Olivia jumps and looks up from the telly. Finn’s eyes stay firmly fixed on the screen, as if he’s heard nothing.

‘What are you doing here?’ Olivia asks Dan.

‘Just popped in to see Sarah,’ Dan tells her.

‘You’re always popping in,’ Olivia comments. ‘Do you love her?’

I laugh. It comes out as a snort.

I’m curious to see how Dan reacts.

He doesn’t answer straight away.

Then, ‘Yes, I love her,’ he says. He says it like he actually means it.

Olivia giggles. ‘D’you wanna see me dance?’ she asks.

Dan moves round and I see him nod. ‘Go on, then.’ He looks longingly at the door. Maybe he wishes he’d stayed in the hall.

Olivia turns off the telly. Finn continues staring at the blank TV screen while she puts on some ballet music. She takes off her dressing gown and begins to dance in her pink pyjamas. Her steps are in perfect time, her toes pointed. Dan claps and she is delighted with the attention.

Then Sarah comes in.

‘Dan wanted to see me dance,’ Olivia tells her.

‘She’s good too,’ says Dan.

Olivia beams, hanging on to Dan’s arm. ‘He loves you,’ she tells Sarah. ‘I know cos he told me.’

Sarah smiles at Dan. ‘What’s up? It’s not the best time . . .’

He untangles himself from Olivia, pulls Sarah into his arms and kisses her – as if that is the answer to her question.

Olivia watches, standing right next to them. She giggles loudly again. ‘D’you want me to kiss you like that, Finn?’ She flings herself on to the sofa and pushes her lips towards him teasingly. Finn ducks and dashes upstairs.

‘Can we go somewhere more private?’ Dan asks. ‘Only for a minute. I won’t keep you from your work.’

He heads past me towards the door and I watch anxiously as Sarah follows. She moves quickly out of sight, but I can still hear her in the hallway, telling him we bumped into Billy. They must have moved further away or lowered their voices because I don’t hear any more.

Olivia watches them go too and turns to me, her face sullen. She didn’t want them to go off to talk ‘in private’ any more than I did. She starts practising her dance in front of me. I think she’s hoping to dance for Dan again before he goes. I hope he goes soon.

I watch Olivia dance. She looks almost angelic with her long wavy blonde hair, loose now after her bath, though usually tied back in a ponytail or plait.

She was in five different foster homes before she came here. Five! I can’t begin to imagine that. She’s lucky Mum and Dad have so much patience and can cope with her.

I hear Sarah and Dan in the hall. And so does Olivia. She stops mid-twirl and dashes out of the room. The front door clicks before she can get there and her screams pierce through the house as she yells at Sarah for not letting her say goodbye to Dan.

It takes Sarah at least five minutes to calm her down. ‘Come on, Olivia, time for bed,’ Sarah says in the end. I can still hear the occasional muted sob.

My head is pounding from the screaming. Olivia’s music is still playing and that doesn’t help either.

I sit waiting. The music finally comes to a stop. The house is peaceful at last. I am drifting off. My headache dulls from a throb to a slight pulsing. I’m hoping that when Sarah comes to put me to bed, she’ll tell me what Dan said – why he came.

Dad comes in after putting Finn to bed and puts the TV on, turning me so I am facing it.

‘Mastermind ’s on,’ he says. ‘Let’s see how many we can answer.’

The first chosen subject is Agatha Christie. I can actually answer lots of the questions. I even get one right that the man in the chair gets wrong.

Mum comes in eventually and flops down on the sofa next to Dad. Dad puts his arm round her. Mum’s mobile rings. Dad sighs as Mum pulls it from her cardigan pocket.

‘Hello, Paula,’ Mum says. ‘How are you, love?’ There’s a long pause. ‘Really? Well that’s encouraging!’

‘What did she say?’ Dad asks, after Mum puts away her phone.

‘The police had a lot of calls after Crimewatch. Apparently they’ve been questioning someone today.’

‘Let’s hope he’s the one,’ says Dad. ‘It would be good to know he’s off the streets.’

Sarah is unusually quiet as she gets me ready for bed. Most likely Olivia has worn her out. Or maybe it’s what Dan said to her in private when he came round. It couldn’t have been Dan the police were questioning, could it? Was he telling Sarah he’s a suspect? Sarah is quiet, but she doesn’t seem shocked or upset. Then again, she’s under Dan’s spell, like everyone else, so I’m sure he could’ve convinced her that he had nothing to do with it. I wish she would talk to me.

11

Sarah is still quiet when she dresses me on Sunday morning. She doesn’t mention Dan. Mum and Dad say nothing more about Ryan or the man the police questioned. Everyone is busy getting ready for Finn’s sixth birthday.

Finn doesn’t like balloons, but Dad has found some ‘Happy Birthday’ bunting with alternating blue and yellow triangles. Finn is oblivious to the specialness of the day, and has no interest in the birthday cards so Olivia opens them for him. Finn is more interested in the coloured envelopes, and proceeds to line them up neatly across the floor. I watch him and at one point he looks up at me and meets my eyes. Although neither of us can speak, I feel close to Finn. I always have. I sense that he likes me watching him.

Mum and Olivia bake a cake. I enjoy the bustle in the kitchen and the lovely baking smells, especially the smell of melted chocolate, which Mum lets me taste from a spoon. Olivia is happy and doing what Mum tells her for a change. Mum is so patient with her, even when she spills a load of sugar on the floor. While the cake’s in the oven, Sarah takes Olivia for a walk to the shops and they come back with bags of little sweets and chocolate buttons to decorate it with. Olivia is ecstatic. Once the cake has cooled, Mum ices it with buttercream and Olivia lines up the sweets and chocolate buttons in neat rows saying, ‘Finn will like it like that.’ She puts the candles in a line across the middle.

‘It looks great,’ she announces, and rubs her tummy. ‘Yum, yum!’

‘You’ll have to wait until teatime,’ Mum warns, but once she’s left the room Olivia stays next to the cake, staring at it greedily.

She looks thoughtful, then carefully takes three chocolate buttons and three sweets from each row and moves the others along to cover the gaps. She stuffs the ones she’s taken into her mouth.

Mum comes back before Olivia can do it again.

Soon it’s time for Finn to open his presents. Dad showed me his present when he bought it and I’ve been looking forward to seeing Finn’s reaction. We all sit in the living room and watch as Finn opens the stripy wrapping paper parcel. He pulls out a huge box of matchsticks.

They’re not matches you light – but ones people use to make model ships with and things like that. There’s a picture of one on the box. When Dad showed me I didn’t get it at first – I couldn’t see Finn making model ships. But then Dad took out a few matchsticks and lined them up. Dad understands Finn.

Finn examines the box, opens it and tips all the matchsticks out. A huge beam spreads across his face. Finn rarely smiles and I have never seen a smile as big as this. I catch Dad’s eye – his grin is as big as Finn’s. Finn gets busy making a line of matchsticks that stretches the length of the living room.

‘Don’t give me matchsticks when it’s my birthday, will you?’ says Olivia.

Dad laughs.

We go into the kitchen and Mum lights the candles on the cake, but Finn is still lining up his matchsticks and won’t come in. In the end, Mum brings the cake carefully into the living room and Mum, Dad, Sarah and Olivia sing ‘Happy Birthday’. Finn doesn’t even look up, but I feel suddenly happy, with the brightness of the candles and the warmth of my family around me.

‘You can blow the candles out for him,’ Mum tells Olivia, and Olivia jumps up and down with excitement.

We go back to the kitchen to eat the cake, which is delicious, and Mum keeps a piece for Finn to have later.

Two hours after Finn opened the present, he and I are alone in the living room. Finn has moved on from lining the matchsticks up along the wall. He is now arranging them in what looks like a big square around my wheelchair – though I can only see part of it. It definitely has at least two right angles. I sense he is enclosing me completely. Now and then he looks at me and meets my eyes as if seeking my approval. I have never seen Finn make eye contact with anyone apart from me. I like being the centre of his play – I feel alive and connected in a way that is rare for me. I think Finn has completed one square as he is now starting a second one, right around the first. He has never made anything but straight lines before.

I hope Dad will come in – he’s going to be so impressed. I hear footsteps, but it’s Olivia who comes round in front of me and my heart sinks. She sometimes messes up Finn’s neat lines deliberately and I don’t think she’ll understand.

She gasps. ‘Wow, Finn! That’s amazing.’

She gets it! I am stunned and feel a bit guilty for assuming she wouldn’t. Then I hear her calling, ‘You lot, come and see! Come and see what Finn’s done!’

That’s exactly what I wanted to do. Sometimes it happens like that – I know what I want people to do and they do it – and it feels a bit like I can control things, just for a moment. Olivia’s thrilled to be the one who shares the news. Sarah appears first, then Mum and Dad.

They gather round and all ‘Wow!’ over what Finn has done. Dad tells him it’s brilliant and the others agree. I see Mum squeeze Dad’s hand and they share a smile. Finn continues, apparently oblivious, but I am sure he is pleased.

In this moment I feel full of love for them all: Mum, Dad, Sarah, Finn – and even Olivia. I don’t want anything to change.

12

I was on a high after Finn’s birthday until the morning when I remembered about the college visit on Wednesday. Sarah’s already started packing my bag. We’re going to stay overnight – Mum, Sarah and me – in a hotel. I am looking forward to having Mum and Sarah to myself for twenty-four hours, even though I can’t get rid of the worry about being sent away.

I’m trying to focus on the professor and the possibility of communication rather than the idea of actually going to Carlstone, so I feel calmer. But as the day goes on, I sense something isn’t right. I’ve got a pain in my back and my lower tummy. I might have an infection. That’s happened before and it can get really bad if no one notices.

As Sarah wheels me into the kitchen at dinner time I hear Mum telling Dad that the police have charged the man they were questioning.

‘That’s good news,’ says Sarah. ‘Who was it? Do they know why he did it?’

‘Why who did what?’ Olivia demands, coming in.

Mum gives Sarah a look as if she shouldn’t be asking such things in front of Olivia, which is a bit unfair as Olivia’s only just sneaked in and it was Mum who brought it up. I want to know more details too, but Dad changes the subject and starts marvelling about Finn’s amazing matchstick squares again. It’s so frustrating.

Olivia glowers. Everyone tenses. She’s like a lit firework that’ll go off with a bang at any moment.

Dad tries to distract her by asking her what she’d like for her birthday. She turns to him, her eyes wide with excitement. It’s not her birthday for three months, but this doesn’t seem to matter as she takes a deep breath and starts to reel off a very long list. A TV for her room, an iPad, a bigger doll’s house. Then Olivia adds, ‘That’s if I’m still here.’

Mum and Dad look at her in astonishment. ‘Of course you’ll still be here, love,’ says Dad. ‘This is your home. You’re not going anywhere.’

‘I’m not sure I can promise you any of those things for your birthday, though,’ Mum adds quickly, catching Dad’s eye. ‘You’ll have to wait and see.’

I suddenly realise that Olivia can rarely have had more than one birthday in one place. It must be hard for her to trust that she’s really here to stay.

At least Dad’s successfully distracted her from Sarah’s question about the murder suspect. I’m still thinking about it, though. Who have the police charged? If it’s Dan then Sarah will surely know soon. Or is it someone else altogether?

During the night I kept thinking about it until the pain in my stomach got so bad that I was only thinking about that. Now it’s there all the time rather than coming and going. I was willing Sarah to notice this morning, as I can usually rely on her to pick up on it when something’s not right. But she seemed distracted.

At school I am uncomfortable all day. Then something happens that stops me thinking about the pain altogether. About an hour after we get home Mum asks where Finn is. No one can find him.

Mum is looking upstairs, Dad downstairs and Sarah the garden. Olivia is ‘helping’ but clearly getting bored. Dad’s searched every cupboard, including the one under the stairs, twice.

Mum comes down. Her hair is all over the place and her eyes panicky. ‘He’s not here,’ she mutters. ‘He must have gone outside. He’s not here!’

Dad soothes her, stroking her back. ‘He’s around here somewhere, I’m sure of it. You know how good he is at hiding. He can’t open the front door.’

‘Maybe he slipped out when someone opened it,’ says Mum. She puts her hand to her mouth. ‘I went out the back to put some rubbish out. Could he have got out then?’

‘He’s not in the garden, though,’ says Dad, ‘and you didn’t unlock the gate, did you? He’s not tall enough to climb over the gate without standing on something.’

‘Finn?’ Mum calls. She‘s trying to sound calm but there’s a rough edge to her voice. ‘Come on out, love! You’re definitely the hide-and-seek winner.’

Mum and Dad are quiet, waiting, listening. There’s a sound on the stairs. Mum dashes round the banister . . .

‘Oh – Olivia! No sign of Finn?’

‘He’s probably gone out and walked into the road,’ Olivia announces. ‘He’s got no idea how to cross roads, has he?’

I hear Mum let out a gasp.

‘That’s enough, Olivia,’ says Dad.

‘I’ve been looking for him,’ Olivia protests. ‘Looking and looking. Just as hard as everyone else – except Jemma.’ She’s come into view now and gives a glance in my direction.

I am sitting in the lounge, facing out towards the hallway. I have been sitting like this the whole time, facing the cupboard under the stairs – the cupboard where Finn has been hiding for over an hour. I know he’s there. I saw him go in. He must be curled up so far into the dark back corner that Dad’s two expeditions inside have failed to reveal him.

Dad goes out to walk the streets, though I’m sure he still thinks that Finn is in the house.

‘He’ll turn up,’ Sarah assures Mum.

‘You’re sure nothing happened – nothing that upset him?’ Mum asks Sarah.

I look at Sarah’s face. Although she helps out with Finn and Olivia her job is caring for me. Mum’s not being fair.

‘I told you,’ Sarah says crossly, ‘he seemed fine to me – he was lining up cars in his room.’ Sarah looks like she’s going to cry. I want to tell her Mum’s just worried and doesn’t blame her really.

When Dad comes back Mum wants to call the police. Dad wants to wait. They argue. Mum starts really shouting. It’s awful. If only I could tell them. If only Finn would come out. I try to make a noise – gurgling noises that turn into, ‘Ugghh ugghh.’

Dad then blames Mum for upsetting me. I’ve just made things worse.

Sarah comes to comfort me. ‘Don’t worry, Finn will be fine,’ she assures me.

In the end Dad phones the police.

I know that Finn must be able to hear this. He knows who the police are, though I’m not sure if he understands enough to realise the worry he’s causing.

I wonder why he’s hiding. He only does it when he’s really stressed out. Once he hid when his teacher was off sick and he didn’t like the supply teacher. Perhaps the packing has upset him and he’s worried about us being away. That must be it.

Last time he was found after twenty minutes. He was at the back of Mum and Dad’s wardrobe, behind the shoe rack.

Dad says the police are on their way. Mum calls social services too. They have to know he is missing. I feel so sorry for Mum. I’m sure she’s worried they’ll think she’s not looking after us properly.

The doorbell rings.

‘That was quick,’ says Mum, rushing to answer.

I hear a voice I don’t recognise and strain to hear the words. It’s not the police – it’s the window cleaner wanting to be paid.

‘Sorry,’ Mum says, sounding frazzled. ‘Do you mind coming back? We’re having a bit of a crisis. You haven’t seen a small boy wandering down the road, have you?’

I don’t hear the answer. ‘Oh – look, it’s not fair on you. I’ll grab my purse,’ Mum says. She comes into the living room and picks up her bag, without even glancing at me.

‘That’s funny, I’m sure I had more than that,’ she says to herself. ‘Ben! Have you got a tenner handy?’

‘Sure,’ calls Dad. ‘Really, couldn’t he have waited?’

As Dad goes to the door, Mum looks like she’s holding back tears.

When Dad comes back he persuades her to sit down and have a cup of tea while we wait for the police. He pushes me into the kitchen and Mum sits, head in hands, at the table, while Dad puts the kettle on.

Sarah comes in too, followed by a sulky-looking Olivia.

‘Let me do that,’ Sarah tells Dad, getting some mugs out of the cupboard.

‘Can I have a biscuit?’ Olivia asks, spying the tin on the shelf above the mugs.

‘Please,’ Dad reminds her.

Dad pulls down the biscuit tin and opens it. He stares for a moment at the biscuits.

‘Can I have one, pleeeeaaaase ?’ Olivia demands.

‘I think I’ll get the chocolate finger biscuits out,’ Dad says loudly.

That’s a bit weird. I think the stress has got to him. Olivia gives him a confused look. And then it clicks – he’s trying to tempt Finn out. Finger biscuits are Finn’s favourite. He always has to have three so that he can line them up.

Dad puts three on Olivia’s plate and she beams. ‘I’ll put three on a plate here for Finn,’ Dad says.

‘Oh – Finn.’

Finn walks into the kitchen and sits down, grabbing all three biscuits tightly. He doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes, but that’s not unusual.

‘Where have you been?’ Mum demands, as gently as she can manage.

She knows he won’t answer, but I see her shoulders relax with relief as she turns to Dad with a smile.

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