Groomed: Part 1 of 3: Danger lies closer than you think. Casey Watson

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СКАЧАТЬ I asked.

      Children usually came with a suitcase or something similar. Even the most neglected kids we’d ever seen had come accompanied by a bag of rags. But Keeley obviously hadn’t packed. She presumably had only what she’d gone out with. Had this been an impulsive decision?

      Keeley yawned now, and as she was doing so she nodded. ‘Got my toothbrush and PJs,’ she said, ‘and my phone and my charger. Would it be okay if I go to bed now? I’m knackered.’

      I nodded. ‘Yes, course you can, love,’ I said. ‘You must be very tired,’ I then added, considering and deciding against pulling her up on her own choice of word. ‘Come on, I’ll show you to your room and leave you to get ready for bed, then I’ll bring you up a drink and some biscuits, if you like. I imagine you’re hungry. Actually, would you prefer a sandwich?’

      Keeley shook her head. ‘A drink and biscuits will be fine, thanks.’ She then followed me out of the room, without another word to anyone, much less a thank you for the police officers who’d been her taxi for the evening. They shrugged at her departing back. They’d dealt with worse.

      ‘Any other kids live here?’ she asked, as I followed her up the stairs.

      I nodded as she turned on the landing. ‘Here you go, love,’ I said, pushing the door to the spare room open. ‘And yes, we have a boy. He’s called Tyler. He’s sixteen – but only just. So maybe the same school year as you? Anyway, you’ll meet him in the morning. He’s asleep now, I think.’ Which made something else occur to me. ‘Were there other children at your last placement, love?’

      I’d registered Keeley’s sour expression when I mentioned the word ‘school’, but now it changed again. She looked emotional suddenly. She nodded. ‘Yes, my foster sister, Jade. She’s fourteen.’

      ‘And they foster her too?’ I asked, my mind chugging. An allegation against their foster father might well change that.

      But Keeley shook her head. ‘No. She’s adopted. They adopted her when she was little.’ Her face fell, and she suddenly looked younger than before. ‘I’m going to miss her. Not them two, but I’m going to miss Jade, big time.’ She met my eye then. ‘She was like my real sister, you know?’

      I smiled sympathetically, and told her I did know. ‘And I’m sure you’ll see her again,’ I said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. She was a good three or four inches taller than me. Which, admittedly, wasn’t hard. ‘Now, you get yourself settled.’ I pointed across the landing. ‘There’s the bathroom, obviously. I’ll just go downstairs and finish up with the police then I’ll be back with your drink, sweetie, okay?’

      ‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ Keeley said.

      I was confused. ‘Count on what?’

      ‘On me being able to see her. I’ve got four actual brothers and sisters. Did they tell you that? I bet they didn’t. I’ve never seen any of them since the day I went into care. Not even once. Social services are all bastards.’

      Four. Never seen again. My heart wept for her. But now I had to speak. Start as you mean to go on and all that. Especially with a kid that’s been in the system a long time. ‘Sweetheart, I know you’re angry, and you’ve every reason to be,’ I said gently. ‘And we will sit down and talk about all this, I promise. But we don’t allow that kind of language here, okay? Me and Mike have young grandkids, so it’s just one of our rules. One of our few rules. So can you try to think of other words you can use?’

      She had the grace to look embarrassed, which surprised me. From her initial demeanour, I’d been expecting more attitude. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d answered with ‘whatever’. Or told me to sod off and leave her alone. So though it was only a small thing it was an important one; it built a bridge between us. ‘Sorry,’ she said, looking downcast. ‘I’ll try not to.’

      ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘I know you will.’

      The consensus wasn’t quite so positive when I returned to the living room. ‘Yes,’ the female officer was saying, presumably in answer to something Mike had asked her, ‘we do think the accusation against Mr Burke is probably false. It just came out of nowhere, for one thing, and was quite a time coming. We were asking her why she didn’t want to go back there, obviously, and she was coming up with all kinds of reasons for running away. They were too strict, too fussy, too stupid and so on. The usual teenage things you’d expect. And, of course, at that point there was no question that we wouldn’t be taking her home again. Of course we would be. But when we explained that – that we had no choice but to do that – out the accusation suddenly came. With a smirk, even, like she knew exactly what she was doing. ‘‘Steve’s been touching me up,” she goes. “There! You can’t take me back now, can you?’’’ The policewoman flipped the cover of her pad back. ‘And she’s right, of course. We have to act on the allegation. But we aren’t convinced there’s any truth in it. Not as yet.’

      Even though I’d had my own suspicions about the veracity of Keeley’s allegation, I was still a bit stunned. Would a fifteen-year-old really be so bad that she would make up something so horrible, and even smirk about it? I knew the answer, of course, because I wasn’t born yesterday. And as foster carers, Mike and I heard about things like this all the time. Well, if not all the time, at least often enough to scare us, because it was a situation we could potentially find ourselves in. It didn’t bear thinking about.

      I shook my head, said my farewells and, while Mike showed them out, went into the kitchen to pour a glass of milk and find some Jaffa Cakes.

      Then I went back upstairs with them (Mike was still on the doorstep, talking about the engines in squad cars – at this time?) and pushed the slightly ajar bedroom door open with my foot.

      ‘Here you go, love,’ I said as I entered.

      Keeley, already in bed, yanked the duvet up to her chest. ‘Don’t we have rules about knocking?’ she asked. She also blushed, instantly and furiously.

      I could have kicked myself. And now I felt my cheeks flush as well. ‘I’m sorry, love,’ I said, placing the drinks and snack down on the bedside table. ‘Of course we do. I should have knocked. I’m just tired as well, I suppose. And I didn’t think you’d be so quick getting yourself into bed.’ I smiled apologetically. ‘Next time, I will knock. I promise.’

      ‘It’s okay,’ Keeley said. She raised a hand holding a smartphone. ‘I just wondered. Could I have your wifi password, please? I just want to drop a message to my foster sister. You know, to let her know I’m okay and that. I won’t phone her,’ she added meekly. ‘I know it’s late.’

      I could hardly say no. It was a reasonable enough request. The girl was fifteen and how many of those didn’t have a smartphone? And it made perfect sense that she’d want to tell the one person she obviously felt close to that she was okay. I recited the password – long since memorised from having to constantly give it to the grandkids and other guests – and once she’d typed it in and got connected I went back downstairs.

      ‘She’s online,’ I told Mike once we were back on the sofa. It was very late but, despite what I’d told Keeley, I now felt wide awake.

      ‘So all’s well with the world,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘Spot of James McAvoy, then?’

      I was just opening my mouth to share my joy at that prospect, when my own smartphone buzzed, with no caller ID, СКАЧАТЬ