Three

"They're mopping up the butcher's floor, of your broken little hearts."

- 'O Children' by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

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"Hi. I'm Jane Campbell, John's social worker," said the short, suited woman who had just entered the Lyell Centre, shaking Harry firmly by the hand. She had a pinched, pointed nose and pursed lips with her dark hair in a high ponytail on her head. Her whole manner was that of professionalism and it couldn't be clearer that she was a stickler for the rules; however her eyes were kind and her voice soft, a stark contrast to her sharp appearance.

"Harry Cunningham," he nodded, and then gestured to the other two people seated at the table, "Nikki Alexander and Leo Dalton, my colleagues."

"Hi," the social worker smiled. "Call me Jane. Mind if I sit down?"

She sat next to Leo, opposite Harry and Nikki. Peering over Harry's shoulder to the other side of the room, she smiled sympathetically as she spotted John sleeping on the sofa. It was just gone eleven and the young boy hadn't woken since he'd fallen asleep over an hour ago. Everyone was exhausted, Harry included, yet he knew that he wouldn't be getting much sleep that night.

"What's going to happen to John?" he asked abruptly, getting straight to the point.

Jane leant forward on the table, her palms pressed together as if in prayer. "I've found him a temporary foster placement for tonight, seeing as it's so late. A lovely woman called Edna, who's been fostering children for nearly forty years. She says she's got room for a little one," she said, smiling slightly.

"But that's only temporary?" Leo frowned.

"Yes," Jane nodded. "Edna's getting too old now to consider adopting or fostering full-time, so she's one of our emergency placements. Tomorrow we will reassess the situation."

"You're going to put him in a care home, aren't you?" Harry muttered, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"It's a high possibility, yes," Jane said regretfully. "We'd rather we found him a permanent family, of course we would, but that doesn't happen overnight. John may have to spend some time in a care home until we can find somewhere for him. You know what it's like; the system's a little stretched."

Harry let out a derisive bark of a laugh, leaning back in his chair and glaring at the social worker. Placing her hand on his arm again, Nikki muttered, "Harry..." in that tone she uses when she wants him to calm down. Taking a deep breath, he leant forward again.

"Look, Doctor Cunningham," Jane said placatingly. "I don't like this any more than you do. But wouldn't you rather he spent some time in a home until we find him a stable, loving family that he's happy to go to, rather than moving about from place to place?"

Unable to argue with this, Harry muttered, "I suppose so. Which care home will he be going to?"

"It's called Willow House. It's fairly near here, just a fifteen minute drive."

Clearing her throat, Nikki said in a tired voice, "What's it like? I mean, I've seen the documentaries on television. Some of these children's homes are absolute hell-holes."

Jane stiffened slightly. "I can assure you that the homes you see in these 'documentaries' represent an incredibly small proportion of England's care homes, and they are being drastically improved. But you needn't worry. Willow House is one of the best in London. It has an excellent reputation and wonderful staff. Think Tracy Beaker rather than Victorian orphanage."

Leo snorted slightly in disbelief. Jane looked rather affronted but quickly recovered and said, "Do you think I do this job for the mountain of paperwork? Do you think I enjoy taking children from their parents? Seeing them tragically orphaned like John over there? No, of course I don't. That's the hardest part. But I became a social worker to help children; to improve their lives. To work with the kids to find them somewhere that they can be happy, happier than they've ever been. I would never 'dump' a child somewhere where either I or they weren't one hundred percent certain that they'd be safe and content."

There was startling honesty in Jane's eyes, and Harry suddenly felt a newfound sense of respect and admiration towards her. He'd met care workers in the past who were far less compassionate.

"Do you have to take him now?" he asked, looking over at the small, sleeping form on the sofa. "Can't you let him sleep? He's been through so much."

"I'm afraid not," she said. "Edna's waiting for us. Besides, the sooner we get him to a proper bed, the better."

Harry sighed, but nodded. As much as he disliked it, he knew that she was right. "Let me wake him," he said, getting up from the chair and crossing the room.

He could feel three pairs of eyes on him as he crouched down beside the sofa, placing his hand on John's shoulder and gently shaking him awake.

John snapped his eyes open and sat bolt upright, looking disorientated and confused. His eyes focused on Harry and realisation crashed over him.

"It's okay," Harry murmured, pressing the toy owl into the young boy's hands. "It's all right."

John looked around the room, then whispered to Harry, "Who's that funny lady?"

"That's Jane," Harry explained. "She's come to take you somewhere safe, somewhere comfortable. You're going to go and stay with a nice lady called Edna tonight. She'll look after you. And then tomorrow you're – tomorrow you're going to go to a big house with lots of other children like you."

John's bottom lip trembled as tears filled his eyes. "I want to stay here. I like it with you," he murmured.

Nodding and clearing his throat, Harry said, "I know. I know you do. But you can't, I'm sorry. The place where you're going is nice, I promise. And eventually they'll find you a nice family that you can live with. I know they'll never replace your mum, but perhaps they might help the pain go away a little bit."

The young boy nodded dejectedly, hugging Harry the Owl tightly under one arm. Reaching into his pocket, Harry extracted one of his business cards from his wallet. On it was the Lyell Centre address and his work and mobile numbers. "Look," he said, passing the card to John, "these telephone numbers here are my numbers, okay? And that's the address of this place we're in. So if you ever want to write or ring me up, you can. I'll always be here if you want to talk, all right?"

John clutched the card as if it was the most valuable thing in the world and then spontaneously threw his arms around Harry's neck, dropping the owl in the process. Smiling slightly, Harry stood up so that he was holding the little boy, who promptly laid his cheek on Harry's shoulder. Turning around, Harry could see Nikki, Leo and Jane approaching. Nikki picked up the owl and with a reassuring smile passed it back to John, who clutched it tightly in the hand that didn't contain Harry's card.

"Hi, John," Jane said with a large grin, "That's a great owl you've got there."

"His name's Harry," John said defiantly. All four adults chuckled quietly.

"Come on then, John," said Jane. "Time to go."

Harry put the young boy down and crouched down to his eye level again. "I'll speak to you soon, okay?" he said, his eyes unashamedly prickling. "You be a good boy. And always remember: just look for the brightest star."

John gave Harry a small smile, but Jane quickly took his hand and began to lead him away.

"I'll show you out," Leo said, following them.

Harry stayed crouched down as John reached the large, frosted glass doors. The little boy turned around and waved at Harry, before Leo buzzed the door open and all three disappeared through it and out of sight.

Blinking away the tears, Harry straightened up but continued to stare at the spot where they'd just vanished. Beside him, he felt fingers weave through his own and Nikki's other hand clutch at his forearm.

"I'm coming back with you tonight," she murmured, resting her head on the top of his arm comfortingly.

"Don't be silly," he mumbled. "I'm fine."

"I'm not taking no for an answer," she said firmly. "I refuse to let you drink yourself into oblivion, which I know you will if you're alone."

Despite consistently saying that he didn't need her, Harry was incredibly grateful for her company as he drove home. They spent the car journey in a comfortable silence, Harry too lost in his thoughts to make trivial conversation.

It was when they arrived back at his apartment and were settled down on the sofa with a movie playing that Nikki finally spoke.

"You're really good with kids, you know that? First Niall last year and John tonight..."

Harry snorted. "Firstly, Niall was a teenager. There is a stark difference between that and a child. Secondly... It's not that I'm good with kids. I guess I could just relate to how John was feeling, in some way."

"Well, I still think you'd make an excellent father one day," Nikki shrugged, picking at the Chinese food on the coffee table.

Truth be told, Harry had never thought a great deal about what he'd be like in such a situation. He supposed there was a part of him that perhaps wanted a family. Maybe Nikki was right, maybe he would be a good father. He could learn from the mistakes that his own dad made, be better than that. But, of course, it all came down to the fact that he had to find someone willing to have a family with him first, and that woman was just as elusive as ever. He glanced across at Nikki, who was laughing at something in the movie, and couldn't repress the thought that she'd make a good mother.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" she suggested suddenly, snapping him out of his reverie. "It's gone midnight and we've got work tomorrow."

"Do you want the spare room?" he asked, knowing full well that that was what she was intending anyway. She even had some of her belongings in there for an occasion such as this, so that the following morning she could just go straight to work rather than home to change first. It was so domesticated that part of him couldn't help wondering just what they'd be like if she lived there permanently; and not just in the spare room.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, for they were dangerous territory to be treading into a such a late hour when he was as emotionally exhausted as he was, he got to his feet.

"I'll lock up," Nikki said. "I want to watch the end of the film, anyway."

He smiled his gratitude and headed to his bedroom, quickly getting changed before collapsing into bed, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Despite being shattered, he didn't sleep all that well. From about two a.m. onwards he kept waking up, dreams of John being alone and scared plaguing him, dreams which then merged into him and a faceless little girl with blonde hair that was a startlingly similar shade to Nikki's doing finger painting, until finally at about five o'clock he gave up trying to sleep at all.

He slipped out of bed and got changed into his tracksuit. Quietly, he left his bedroom and entered the lounge, noting with a smile that Nikki had cleared away all their food remains the previous evening. One of these days he'd have to tell her that he doesn't know what he'd do without her.

He doesn't go for a particularly long run, but there's something about the rhythmic pounding of his feet on the pavement, his heart pumping hard, that's quite soothing in a way. Dawn has already broken and the sky is a pale blue, not a cloud in sight. It's cool but not cold, just refreshing against his hot skin. The weak early-morning sun is bright by the time he returns to his apartment and he guesses about half an hour has passed.

As he opened his front door, out of breath and sweaty, he spotted Nikki immediately in the kitchen, bustling around making coffee.

"I wondered when you'd be back," she said, fully-dressed and stirring milk into a mug.

He crossed the room to the kitchen and grabbed himself a glass of water, downing it in one. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he said, "I'll make breakfast."

"No, I'll make breakfast while you shower," she corrected quickly. "You need one."

For the first time that morning a grin spread across his face. On the pretence of reaching up into the cereal cupboard behind Nikki's head, he made no effort not to press himself against her.

"Urgh," she squealed with a giggle, pushing at his damp t-shirt, "Get off, you're disgusting!"

Laughing, he pulled back and left the room. He showered and dressed quickly, and was just buttoning up his shirt when there was a soft knock on his bedroom door and Nikki stuck her head into the room. He nodded for her to come in and she opened the door wider, holding his mobile phone in her hand.

"That was Jane," she said quietly, gesturing to his phone. "John's missing."


You guuuuuyz! Thank you so much for all the reviews, I'm glad you didn't give up on this like I nearly did. It means the world that you're still enjoying it. :)

Let me know what you think!

Charlotte
xxx