Hi! Back on this page, as I've been having a bit of the old writer's block on my longer stories so I figured writing a small one-shot might get the creative juices flowing again. Anyway enjoy!
The seagulls squabbled over her head, as she miserably bit off the end of a soggy chip. Brighton.
It wasn't always so sunny round these parts. As she gazed out towards the sea, she pondered over the vast, endlessness that was life. How far she had come in so few years...
Today she'd ditched the everyday make-up and was letting herself feel the liberty of the wind against her face. Just like old times. Back then, she hadn't been so grateful for these fleeting moments of living life in the moment. Of course, what she'd gone through wasn't exactly conventional but she'd had a home.
The Dumping Ground.
Sounded a lot worse than it actually was.
Exhaling once again she tried to put off the anxiety that was creeping up inside of her. Meeting old friends was one thing but old foes...?
"Justine?"
She whipped her hair around to face the owner of the voice. Tracy Beaker. She hadn't changed a bit; still rocking the old leather jacket and jet black hair. But her face seemed to be etched with confusion and worry; and Justine couldn't help but feel relieved that she had come.
A few moments later they were sat in the café, drinking teas and coffees and attempting small-talk. Justine had taken leave from her estate agency work, having been promoted to a senior position and Tracy was full of funny stories about her care kids. The initial tension had almost gone, and both women found themselves almost enjoying this meeting. Yet there was still one unanswered question...
"Justine? Why did you ask to meet me?"
A good question.
You see, when Justine Littlewood was younger... she often faced many inner conflicts which she was often scared to resolve or approach. Sometimes when things got tough; even her sweetest friends couldn't offer a word of comfort. They never really understood.
They never understood the pressure of having to please a parent; or fill the void of a loved one. They didn't know what it was like to be continually rejected and each time, wondering where you had gone wrong. And though she was able to trick everyone else into thinking that she was alright; there were always a few people she could never deceive.
That's where Tracy came in.
"I'm pregnant," she answered eventually.
"Well, congratulations..!"
"Tracy..." Justine sighed, bracing herself for the impact of what she was about to say, "I don't know if I can go through it..."
Tracy frowned. This was a girl who knew first hand what it was like to not have a mum. A girl who valued family above everything else. And yet, Tracy still seemed to empathise for her.
Her new job as a care worker had opened her eyes to some harsh realities of the world. Of course, some parents were incompetent or abusive or neglecting... but there were others, who felt the burden of a child, who understood what parenthood symbolised and simply wanted their children to have a fighting chance. Even if it was away from themselves.
Justine was still young. If she didn't want a child now then it was okay. It was the 21st century.
"If you don't want a baby then I understand. Just because we've grown up in care; it doesn't mean we have to have a family of our own..." Tracy explained understandingly.
"I want to have her... I just... with everything that's happened..." Justine stammered exasperatedly.
"What's happened? I mean... why are you even talking to me about this? What about your dad? Mike?"
Justine's eyes dropped to the floor as she recalled the last few months. She'd been doing so well since Charlie left her; focussing a lot on her work and throwing herself into everything she did. Her life had been perfect. She'd reconnected with Louise who'd become a vintage shop owner and her dad had taken her back under his wing.
It had been one night, after a long day at work when she'd returned home; her face aching with the bitter wind chill of winter. It was one of those eerie nights where returning home didn't feel so appealing. Instead she hopped onto a different bus and headed towards her dad's. The rest of the evening passed as a blur.
She unlocked the door and let herself in, calling out to her dad from the hallway. She picked up the handwritten letter off the floorboard and looked around for her dad. Nothing.
"Dad? Is it alright if I stay here for the night...?" she asked aloud.
A noise piqued her attention; a creak so silent that she would have missed it. Reacting quickly, she grabbed her dad's cricket bat from the umbrella rack and crept slowly up the stairs.
A series of creaks and thuds lead her to the bedroom and she swung upon the door and almost missed what was directly in front of her. Then she saw. And wished it had actually been a bunch of robbers.
A silence passed and Justine found herself retreating away from her dad and the younger woman, down the stairs and far away from the house. Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she had no energy to shed them. It was like she didn't even care anymore.
What would have happened if she'd been fostered? What then?
"So... your dad was an idiot. Again. But what does he have to do with your baby?" Tracy enquired curiously.
"It wasn't just him Trace..." Justine sighed, as she reluctantly passed forward a letter. Tracy opened up letter and read the writing. It was from Justine's mum. The yellowed edges showed its wear of the years, but the writing was still clear.
Justine's dad... was never her real dad. Her mother had been young as well, and this was a secret she'd kept her whole life. A secret that had only been revealed at that opportune moment.
Tracy wrapped a comforting arm around Justine, knowing how hard this was for her. Two family bombshells in a night; of course, Justine was conflicted.
"From that day onwards... I just... became a wreck. I couldn't work, I pushed everyone away and did some things that I regret. One of them is... not knowing who my baby's father is..." Justine cried softly, "I need help. I know this might seem strange coming to you, but you've always been honest about your feelings. I could really do with some of that..."
Tracy smiled sadly, "I'll take that as a compliment then. Justine... you're honestly the last person I'd want to say this to, but you'd make an amazing mum. All that stuff about fostering with Carmen a few years back... I don't doubt for a second that your intentions were good. And now... you've reached a good point in your career where you can take a break and start something new..."
"You mean a family?" Justine chuckled bitterly, "With who exactly? I don't want to be a single parent and make the same mistakes my dad did...!"
"Course not. But Justine... you have people that still care about you. Yes, you're upset and confused but you have Mike, you can try explaining everything to Louise and Cam and I wouldn't mind helping you out! Maybe you could even..." Tracy trailed off uncertain.
"What...?"
"Your real dad. If he is still out there, then maybe you should try finding him. Your mum wrote that he never knew about you; so you don't know that he doesn't want you..."
The thought of finding her real dad both excited and terrified Justine. Yet at the same time, she didn't particularly want to know. Tracy's words of advice were making her realise that she'd always found comfort in the old and nostalgic. The Dumping Ground held that sense of home that Justine hadn't been able to find elsewhere.
It was unique.
"Why did you become a care worker, Tracy? I mean, I know you know the job inside out but you'd always had these dreams of being a superstar model, or a famous writer and actress..." Justine asked off-topic.
"I could have become all of those things if I wanted to. But after my book launch fail, I realised that the one thing that mattered to me more than anything was family. I needed Cam. Without her, I was reckless and I did stupid things... and I guess I realised how much I wanted to share that idea of family with others..." Tracy explained, "I mean... me and you haven't always got on, but we're similar. Maybe too similar..."
"True..." Justine found herself nodding, "You know what, maybe I will bring up this child. Not to prove a point that I can do it... but to give her what I never really had. The thing is... I'm not always going to be the perfect mum..."
"And that's alright. Mike wasn't the perfect dad, but when things went wrong he always tried to fix it. And so can you. You just have to believe it..." Tracy smiled.
The two women chatted for another half an hour before they had to part ways. It was strange how despite all their fights and disagreements, they'd managed to find a connection.
"Mike's wedding is next week, if you want to be my plus one..." Tracy offered kindly. Justine couldn't help but laugh.
"A few years ago we would have been having a full-on catfight and now you want me to be your plus one! Times really have changed, Beaker..."
"Bog off!" Tracy grinned.
"I think I'll give it a miss, but I'll visit when he's back from his honeymoon. Hopefully with the baby..." Justine smiled.
Tracy scoffed, "Knowing you, the baby will have one of those long, boring names..."
"Actually I was thinking of calling her Tracy..." Justine smiled.
Tracy exchanged a surprised look with her and they both burst out laughing. Tracy Littlewood. As if.
Justine couldn't help but look upon the sea with a new hope in her chest. Maybe this baby was what she needed. A chance to create something beautiful. And the best thing was she wasn't alone.
If anything, her past had taught her a lot of things. How to be a good parent, how to deal with hardships; even Tracy had shown her that anything was possible if she just believed in herself.
As the waves rolled in towards the shore, she whispered out a silent message to herself.
I can do this.