"Rubbish trip, if I'm honest," confessed Mike, turning off the main road. He and Carmen were sat at the front of the minibus – the best place to be, at the moment.
It was like watching a zombie film: pretty scary, but at least they were comfortably removed from it all, safe at the front of the minibus. Elektra however… Elektra was in the eye of the storm, sat there with twelve kids who just didn't seem to care.
"Yeah, they're just not into it today, are they?" Carmen pushed her glasses up and sighed. "That's what I don't get. They couldn't have cared less." It was true – the kids had been completely despondent throughout the whole evening; it was like they were bored out of their brains, running on autopilot, limply letting bowling balls roll agonisingly into the gutter.
"D'you know, I'd honestly prefer if they were fighting. I can't stand them all being so… so uninterested! … Maybe Wednesday night wasn't the best time to go bowling," Mike conceded.
"Ah, maybe. They just keep saying they want to do their homework."
"This lot? Homework?!" scoffed Mike.
Then, all of a sudden–
—"WATCH OUT!" Carmen yelled.
Mike swerved, just in time to avoid the tree.
"KEEP AN EYE ON THE ROAD!" Carmen shouted angrily. "Jesus Christ, Mike, you gave me a fright."
"Relax, relax, you're okay now. And we're…" The minibus spluttered to a stop. "…home. In one piece."
"Just about," tutted Carmen, her heart still beating like a sledgehammer beneath her skin.
Mike hopped out, clumsily slid the door open and ushered the downcast dozen out. They walked to the front door, Mike patting his pockets all the way. A confused look spread across his face – he looked like a monkey, patting his head and rubbing his tummy almost, searching for something. And then…
"Ohhh dear," he sighed, putting his head in the hands. "Ohhhh dear oh dear."
"Mike…? What is it?" asked Carmen.
"Oh Carmen, I've done something really, really stupid. I've just remembered… When we were leaving, I might have… accidentally posted the keys back through the letterbox. And the spares are inside."
Carmen's eyes widened. "Mike! How did you manage that?"
"Manage what?" inquired Elektra, barging her way past some of the kids.
"We're locked out," Mike confessed sheepishly. "And unless anyone has any bright ideas, we're going to have to spend the night in the garden."
THE DUMPING GROUND: RENAISSANCE
Chapter 11: "A Night in the Dark"
The kids had grumpily moved to the back garden, found some blankets in the tiny shed and laid them out; now they sat on them, in their own little clusters. Everyone was sharing the same annoyance – and they all wanted to make themselves heard.
"I'm hungry!" — "There's homework in that house, and it's due for tomorrow." — "I want my laptop!" — "My phone charger's in my room – I need it!" — "When can we get back in the house?" — "Am I supposed to just wear these clothes all night?" — "Is there nowhere else we can go?" — "Mike, this is rubbish!" — "Mike, how do we get back in?" — "Isn't there a spare key, Mike?" — "Mike!" "Mike!" "Mike!" —
"QUIET, ALL OF YOU!" roared Mike, standing up at the front of the whining group and silencing them all in a heartbeat. He proceeded, much more calmly, but shaking a little (from the cold? from his outburst? Nobody was quite sure), "Right, you horrible lot. Yes, we are, unfortunately, locked out of the house. I'll put my hands up – I made a mistake; it's my fault. Believe me when I say that Carmen, Elektra and I have discussed every option we can think of – and there's nothing that's gonna work. All being well, in the morning we will be able to pick up a spare key from my bosses, and we'll be back in. Until then, we're going to have to do the best we can, sleeping out here. I'm really sorry guys – I know it's not ideal."
Sasha sniggered. "Yeah, you could say that."
The kids went back to their chatting; Mike sat down again after his brief speech. He was sitting on a tartan rug with his fellow careworkers.
Carmen leant forward to speak privately to him; Elektra followed suit. "Brilliant. So, who's looking forward to a night outside in October?"
"Hey, I've said my piece!" asserted Mike. "The kids know how sorry I am. We're just going to have to do the best we can. You two are staying, by the way, yes?"
"What?" spluttered Elektra. "No! We're not on the night shift; Euan is."
"I've texted Euan to tell him not to bother… well, we can't ask him to come round just to sleep in the garden!"
"Are we getting overtime then? To compensate for this horrendous mess you've got us all into?"
"Oh, I don't know what you're getting!" snapped Mike. "Listen, it's going to be a difficult night whatever happens, so I'm gonna need you two on side… if that's not too much bother for you."
"Mike, I don't even know if you're on side!" protested Carmen.
He looked taken aback. "What?"
"You're acting really weird lately."
"Since when?"
"I'm not sure; a few weeks now. I don't like it when you're being all strange. Look," she leant even further forward, clearly striving for the utmost confidentiality, "I know you're not… but it's almost like you're drunk. That's what it looks like."
Mike's brain switched into overdrive. She couldn't find out – she couldn't.
"And I'd hate to think that the kids would think that. Because I know you don't even like alcohol, and I know you wouldn't drink it around the kids, but… you know, it'd be terrible if they started thinking that you were. Just… whatever it is that's sending you loopy, can you try and control it a bit?"
"I'm not quite sure what you're talking about, to be honest," Mike lied. "But I'll try my best to keep… sane, or whatever you want from me."
Satisfied, his colleagues leant back. Oh God, he needed a drink. Anything to take away the cold – anything to make him feel better inside. No, fight it, Mike! But he couldn't. He just couldn't anymore.
Half an hour down the line, the kids were all handling things remarkably well. They'd stocked up on blankets from the shed, and were now making a den with them, under the shade of a tree. In some ways, Carmen thought, it was nice to see them all interacting – at least they were doing something. Plus, given that they were all terrified of running their phone batteries flat, they were actually talking! To each other! Maybe this colossal mistake was actually a blessing in disguise.
At the other end of the garden, Ryan sat on the tennis court, all alone. Well, nearly.
Demon walked onto the court. "Not helping?" he asked.
"I'm not really one for helping," said Ryan, flashing an uneasy half-smile which harboured a flicker of malice under the surface. As Demon sat down right next to him, Ryan asked, "How're you settling in, then? What's it been, like a month since you got here?"
"Something like that. And yeah, I'm having a… lovely time. Nice big room. Got the careworkers under my thumb. Working on getting the kids to… understand what the dynamic is. I see everything that goes on – everyone's sussed out."
"Uh, not me. Nobody's sussed me out, and you're not going to be the one to do it."
"Nah, I can read you like a book. A shit book," he added. "How are you?"
Ryan ignored the question. "You know, Tyler said some really cool stuff about you," he whispered, "said you were this, like, big rebellious force or whatever." Demon raised an eyebrow appreciatively. Ryan continued, "You're not living up to it… You're a bit boring really, if I'm honest, Demon. Like, good on you for trying to make the kids scared of you, but do you really think it's worked? Can't really be scared of someone who collapses every time he has to talk to more than three people."
Demon tried not to show any signs of shock. Ryan sniggered. "Can't be scared of someone who hides behind their social worker."
Demon regained his composure, pushed a strand of hair out of his face and turned to Ryan, patronisingly patted him on the back. "It's alright, Ryan, that you're making mistakes like that, thinking all of you aren't in the palm of my hand. You probably haven't had much time to get to know me, in between sucking Elektra's face off every time you go bike riding."
Ryan's eyes widened. "How the fuck do you know about that?"
"Oops… Well, now I've told you what I know, Elektra'll probably lock me in the wood store, like she did with your sister… Whoops, did I just do that again? Sorry, you'll have to forgive me; I just can't help but spill the beans tonight."
The other boy was still processing what Demon had told him. "She what?"
Demon just raised an eyebrow in return.
"I know what your pills are for," Ryan blurted out. "Yeah, all your little bottles, lined up by your bed. I'd say I'm sorry but… well, I'm not."
Demon shook his head and stood up. He looked down at Ryan. "Ryan, Ryan, Ryan… you can know whatever you want. I know more. Honestly, they should study your yellow file in GCSE English Lit. Face it – I've won the argument. And I always will."
"No! You just don't get it. Okay, so what if you've won the argument? I've won the Dumping Ground. All of them – they're all in the palm of my hand. And it won't be long before it's the same story with you. If you think anything different… well, you're deluded."
Demon shook his head. "You haven't got a clue." He left the court.
Well, that felt good, they both thought to themselves.
Mike checked the time on his phone: just after 9pm. The sky was pretty much pitch-black now, but it didn't deter the kids, who'd ransacked the minibus for spare torches and were using their phones to provide the rest of the light. He looked over at them, all sat in a big circle playing some game or other – truth or dare, he thought he'd heard them say. It was so lovely to see them all together like this.
He felt better now – he'd resorted to his last-ditch solution. Having invested in refillable Coke cans, he'd pre-filled them with red wine a few days ago, and now he carried them everywhere in his bag. Perfect for staving off those pesky cravings, those moments when his throat was the kind of dry that was only cured by a good strong drink.
As he sipped some wine, feeling like the world's coolest secret agent, an alert flashed up on Mike's phone. It was a text that had just come in, and it said–
Oh no.
What could be worse than reading a text saying that a child's potential foster parents weren't going to be fostering them after all? Reading that text with the child in question reading it over your shoulder.
"What?!" said a gobsmacked Bird. "Let me read that properly!"
Mike quickly stood up to hide the phone screen, but realised it was too late. He sighed painfully. What a horrific mistake. Why oh why did he never check that nobody was behind him when he opened important texts like this?
"Well, let me read it first!" he argued.
"No, it's about me and Jay!"
"Ugh, fine." He passed the phone over, and Bird scanned the message. The colour drained from his face.
The boy looked up at Mike with undiluted anger in his eyes.
"Mike Milligan, you IDIOT!" he shouted.
"What have I done?!"
"Read the TEXT, you stupid, STUPID man!"
Bird threw the phone back; Mike caught it and read the text.
Oh god, it was all his fault. Jay and Bird's social worker had texted to tell him that Mike's "erratic behaviour at the meeting we arranged" had "forced the Radcliffes to reconsider". What erratic behaviour? Mike's mind reeled back, but he found that he had no recollection of how the meeting had gone. He hadn't been drunk, had he? Surely not... surely not.
"You've RUINED it! Our big chance, and you've mucked it all up."
Bird was glaring. A few of the kids round the circle had stopped and were staring at the unfolding argument.
"Bird, I am so, so sorry about this. I'll-"
"Mike, your JOB is to get us fostered! At the end of the day, that's what you're supposed to DO!"
"Bird, I promise you, I'll get on the phone to the Radcliffes first thing in-"
"Yeah, you'll get on the phone as soon as we're inside, because you locked us out, you moron!"
"Whats did you call meh?" Mike slurred, slightly amazed, both at Bird's vocal hatred and his own open tipsiness.
"Moron! Because that's what you are!" Bird had quietened down a little, but the anger was more potent than ever. "You've gone… weird lately, and this is just the latest in a long, long line of fuck-ups. You can ask almost anyone here – we'll all tell you the same thing. Aisha was crying about it the other night, because you forgot to read her her bedtime story."
Mike sighed. That news about Aisha really should have affected him more. Should he pretend to get upset? Really, he knew that he was feeling nothing – but then again, he quite enjoyed feeling nothing, he supposed.
"You're not even listening, are you?" moaned Bird. "This is just gonna go on and on and on, you making mistakes, and being… weird. And ruining things for me and Jay!" He marched up to Mike and looked him dead in the eye, his voice reduced to a malevolent whisper. "You'd better patch things up with the Radcliffes, first thing in the morning, or you don't wanna know what I'm going to do to you."
Mike nodded sharply. He turned away. He couldn't take any more of this argument.
Maybe, just maybe, he had some kind of problem with alcohol. (Yeah, he liked a drink every so often, but was that a problem? More of a feature, he thought.) But surely he could enjoy a drink and still be able to work? He just needed to get better at working after a drink. There was no harm in it, was there?
Bird returned to the circle, where Elektra was slightly over-enthusiastically powering through with the game of truth or dare, trying to distract them from Bird and Mike's loud argument.
"Okay Chloe, your turn," she announced. "Truth or dare? Who am I kidding, it'll be a truth, won't it? You're a bit too chicken for dares." She laughed under her breath.
"Oi!"
"Just a joke."
"… Truth," Chloe replied, a little more self-consciously now.
"If you could swap Ryan for anyone else in the circle, to be your brother, who would it be?"
"Oh, I don't know… uh… I don't know, Jay or someone?"
Elektra sniggered a little bit. "Jay, eh…" She nudged Chloe's elbow.
Chloe looked affronted. But then, suddenly, something caught her attention. "Wait, guys, listen!" she hissed, and they all quietened down and tried to hear whatever she'd heard. There was absolutely nothing.
"Oh yeah, I can hear that," said Elektra. "It sounds like… Chloe making stuff up to distract us."
"No, I wasn't making it up!" the girl insisted in her thick Scots brogue. "Something was rustling in the bushes. I heard it."
"I'm sure you did…" said Elektra, her eyes clearly telling the group she thought otherwise. A couple of them giggled, and Chloe turned bright red with humiliation. She wasn't going mad! She'd heard something! Oh well, it didn't matter now. "Okay," announced Elektra, "let's just move on, to spare you your blushes… Demon! Truth or dare?"
"Why do you never tell us anything about yourself?" interjected Rafiq, loudly and annoyingly.
"Yeah!" added Aisha, her obnoxious squeaky voice grating on Demon's eyes as the two kids got up in his face. "And what are the little bottles in your room for?"
"I know," laughed Ryan from the other side of the circle.
"Go away, Ryan," threatened Demon. "No-one wants you here."
"Ooh, I've got a question," declared Ryan. "You never talk to us. You've got no friends here. So… if you hate us so much, why did you ask to come back here?"
"Good question," Jody said. "Why do we know nothing about you?"
"Guys, it's truth or dare," pointed out Elektra, trying to save her friend, "and he didn't even say which one he wanted! And if it's truth, then he gets one question at a time, okay?"
"And why did you collapse on your first day?" asked Sasha. "We just want to know so we can help if it happens again," she added sweetly, disingenuously.
"Why did you go to the secure home?" asked Ryan.
"He was in the secure home?" Floss baulked, recoiling a little from Demon.
"Uh, get off my case," threatened Demon, standing up and storming away down the garden. The kids watched him go. When they turned back to the circle, they noticed Ryan tucking in to popcorn.
"Um… you've got popcorn?" checked Chloe in bewilderment.
"Sorry, this is the only bag," he explained, pre-empting the question, merrily munching on another kernel.
"From where, exactly?"
"Secret supply."
"So it's from your secret supply, but you've only got one bag?" That was the problem with Chloe. She saw right through him. "Come on, give me a bag."
"No!" protested Ryan. "I haven't got any!"
"Don't be greedy, Ryan!" She grabbed at his pocket. Too late – he stood up and ran away. But he only made it a metre or so before a mound of snacks fell out from his unzipped pockets. Gotcha.
"Ugh, Ryan!" protested an annoyed Sasha, scooping up a packet of Maltesers (to Ryan's dismay). "We're all hungry, not just you! Don't be such a greedy pig." Ryan glared at her and Chloe, as the other kids (led admirably by Floss) scooped up the snacks.
Looking across the circle, Joseph sat wrestling with his conscience. Put simply, he had no idea what to do, no idea how to overcome the dilemma he found himself facing. There was nothing to be ashamed of, he knew that – after all, Alan Turing was gay, and he was one of the best scientists in the history of the country, if not the world! Being gay was fine – he knew that. It was just… being gay like this – open, honest, real – well, that felt a bit different.
But where was the harm in trying? It was just asking a boy out. What's the worst thing that could happen? He'd just say he wasn't gay, or he wasn't interested, or whatever. 'No worries', he'd probably say. Yeah, things might be awkward for a bit, but it was worth it. He knew it was worth it. Just in case it was a 'yes'.
But he didn't like to think about the best-case scenario, because he knew he'd probably be getting his hopes up for nothing.
Was it worth trying? Normally, Joseph enjoyed being stumped. If there was a scientific problem puzzling him, he relished nothing more than having the time and the freedom to solve it, work it through, find out the answer. But this wasn't a pithy science thing, this was real life – something that mattered. One of the biggest things he was ever going to do in his life so far.
Aaah! Should he ask? He didn't know, so instead he just stared across at Jay, and hoped he'd give him a sign.
It was bedtime. And a fairly late one at that – well, they'd been having such a fun time with their games that Carmen and Elektra didn't want to disturb them. And as for Mike, he'd nodded off ages ago, surrounded by Coke cans and smelling of spearmint.
Elektra had felt bad about Demon getting pounced on by the kids like that, so she'd nabbed some of Ryan's chocolate and gone to look for him down the bottom of the garden. It was dark chocolate – she knew he liked that.
She'd found him fast asleep in a foetal ball on the floor of the wood store. Of course – the wood store! She hadn't thought to use it since she knew it was locked (and the key safely inside the house), but Demon had clearly kicked the door open somehow. She'd quietly crept back to the others, told them the good news, and they'd respectfully snuck into the wood store with their blankets and bedded down. It was a tight squeeze, and a few of them had to perch just outside the door, but they'd managed (just about).
Elektra, however, was cold. Because, miraculously, whilst Chloe's wheelchair (without her in it) had stolen a spot in the wood store, she – a careworker! – had been left to rot, for all they cared, outside. "Oh, you can have an extra blanket to make up for it, Elektra" – bollocks. No, before everyone drifted off to bed properly, she was going to have to sort this out.
"Chloe?" she said, her voice gentle but firm.
"Yeah?" came the reply from somewhere within the wood store.
"Can I swap places with your wheelchair? I'm really cold, that's all."
"Um, no!"
"What?!"
"You can't put my chair outside, the spokes might rust!"
"The spokes might- what? Can you see rain? Can you hear it? Feel it? Nope, thought not!" Her voice was getting louder – it was okay, nobody was properly asleep yet, apart from the Al Saeeds, possibly.
"Elektra, you're being selfish!"
"I'm being selfish? You're literally pushing me out into the cold on the very tiny chance that it might rain! How am I the selfish one?"
"If that chair rusts, I can't move!"
"You get carried everywhere, you prissy little princess! Do you have any idea how badly I've done my back in from carrying you up the stairs every night?"
"Oh, boo hoo. So is that why you were laughing at me before? To make up for that?"
"No, I was laughing at you because you were being silly."
"I heard something, Elektra. In the bushes. I wasn't making it up."
"Girls, will you be quiet?" hissed Mike. "People are trying to sleep!"
"Yeah, yeah," said Elektra nonchalantly. She raised her voice again. "Hey guys, did you know Chloe's favourite show is, uh… Looney Tunes?"
"You're acting like a child, Elektra. You're a grown adult. You're meant to be my carer."
"And I am your carer – don't be so rude! Let me in!" Her fingers were starting to go red with the October chill.
"Still, you've already proved that you can't really be responsible around us, eh?"
She'd stuck a knife into Elektra's heart. "Chloe, don't. Whatever you're about to say, don't."
"What's she about to say?" asked Mike.
"Oh yeah, wake up now, why don't you?"
"No, I want to know what she means."
"Don't say it!" warned Ryan's voice from out of the ether.
"Chloe, I'll stay outside, it's fine. And I'm sorry for being childish earlier."
But it was too late. Far too long Chloe had had to keep this secret, and she wasn't going to live with it any longer. She blurted out the truth – "Elektra was going out with Ryan."
"NO!" cried Ryan from the back of the wood store, powerless to do anything to stop it.
"Yeah, I know," said Mike. "On the bikes – they still do it-" It dawned on him. "Oh, no…"
"No, it wasn't like that!" shouted Ryan. "It wasn't anything bad!"
"Ryan," warned Elektra. Nobody could see anybody else; the darkness was all-pervading, all-invading. The outline of Elektra was only just visible to the others, illuminated ever so slightly by the moon. They could see her stand up.
"Elektra," said Mike firmly, stopping her in her tracks. He calmly asked her, "Is it true?" From where he lay in the wood store, stewing in his own incompetence, he looked up to the doorway and saw her solemnly nod her head.
"Can we talk in the morning?" Elektra asked. "Please. I'll explain everything."
"That sounds like a good idea to me," Mike said gravely. "Ryan, you too." The reality hit him once more. "Oh, Elektra, how could you do something like this? How could someone so… promising do something so immoral?"
"Immoral? Immoral?" scoffed Elektra, bending down to where she thought she could make out Mike's body sat up on the floor. She got close up to his face and hissed, "Don't talk to me about morals when you stink of alcohol."
Mike's blood was superheated in milliseconds. He just hoped nobody had heard that. To Elektra's credit, she'd probably done it quietly enough. Oh god, oh god, oh god, what a mess they'd got themselves into. What a nightmare the morning was going to be.
Elektra solemnly stumbled her way up the garden, knowing, just knowing, that her career had just come to an end.
Lying there in the wood store, unable to see anything but the comforting darkness hugging him from all sides, Joseph knew it was time.
He dispelled his doubts, forgot his fears and turned onto his side. To where he knew Jay was asleep next to him. Taking a last deep breath, he tapped Jay lightly on the shoulder. No escape now.
"Jay?" he asked softly. "Are you there?"
He heard Jay stir slightly. "Yeah, now I am!" came the annoyed whispered reply. "What is it?"
"But are you properly awake? I've got something important to tell you!"
"Yeah Joseph, I'm awake. What is it?"
The boy took another deep breath. For a minute, he thought the words wouldn't come. The walls of the wood store were squeezing in on him, choking him; he was a sinner, sat in a confessional.
But he found the courage, somewhere inside, to push out his message: "It's something I've been unsure about for so long. I really didn't even know what I was feeling, let alone how to express it. But as I've got to know you over the years, and as I've become more and more of your friend… well, I guess I've realised what a cool person you are, you know? You're… funny! You always make everyone laugh – in a good way, that is. And you're secretly smart, and talented, and you get on with everyone, and it makes me want to be more like you.
"But… I don't think that's all I've been feeling. …I don't know, when I see you playing football in the garden or something like that, there's this… this spark that I feel inside. For the longest time, I wasn't sure what it was, or what it meant. But I think I know what it means now." Joseph was so glad that the darkness concealed Jay's reaction – for all he knew, Jay might have gone back to sleep. In some ways, the probability of that possibility helped.
"I love your voice, and your hair, and your smile! And your personality, and your confidence, and… well, I guess what I'm trying to say is that… that… … will you go out with me?"
No answer. He waited a minute, felt his words cling to the wood store's rotting ceiling and fly out through the cracks in the walls, while the feelings behind the words retreated back to their keep, deep within Joseph's heart.
With a sigh, Joseph turned back and lay down to go to sleep again.
Then the whisper came: "Joseph, it's half past midnight! And I'm flattered, but I'm not gay. Get to bed! See you in the morning."
And that was how Jay broke Joseph's heart.
Thud, thud, thud.
Elektra's eyes snapped open at the first sound of footsteps on the hard tennis court on which she'd spent the night. The first rays of diaphanous sunlight welcomed her to the new day, filtering through the low trees to illuminate the acrylic surface in a faintly mottled pattern.
Thud. Thud, thud.
There was something ominous in those footsteps. Either someone in thick boots, or someone stomping with all their might. Elektra wanted to rub the sleep out of her eyes and find out who it was that was intimidating her like this, but instinct told her to stay put.
Thud thud thud thud.
The footsteps were getting louder and louder, closer and closer. Elektra slammed her eyes shut just in time, as the figure walked in front of where she lay. Gently opening one eye by just a fraction, she made out a pair of chunky black boots. She couldn't see any further up than that, but dared not look. My god – was that… snarling that she heard? Something was slobbering; making quick, feverish, shallow breaths that reminded her of mongrels.
Thud thud thud thud thud. Thud thud thud thud thud.
The great stomping footsteps grew fainter, then louder again, and she felt the figure come back around. She was being circled. Never had she felt more like the helpless prey of a bigger, scarier, cleverer, more intimidating predator.
The footsteps stopped, replaced by that hideous snarl. There was something calculating in that inhuman sound, like the figure was sizing Elektra up, trying to work her out…
Elektra suddenly realised that she had to get out of there.
She rolled with all her might – rolled out of the figure's path – jumped to her feet despite her lethargy – felt the harsh sun on her face – and saw – and saw…
She wasn't sure what she saw.
It was a person of some description, a mass of brown fur – some kind of coat, from what Elektra could tell – it covered its whole body – some tatty jeans and those big black boots poking out from the bottom – a big stream of unkempt, tangled blonde hair – Elektra couldn't make out all of its face in the light but she could hear the snarl – could see the drool coming from its mouth, glinting in the sun as it spilled from the lips – could faintly make out a mouth packed with sharpened razor teeth – and all the time that ghastly breathing –
It pounced.
It leapt across the court, all fur and hair swinging with the effort – with outstretched claws it landed on Elektra – pushed her to the warm acrylic. She smacked her head, felt the impact like a sledgehammer to the skull – instantly the survival instinct kicked in. She kicked at the figure, sure now that it was a woman. In response, the blonde woman slapped Elektra in the face, thumped her on the arm – Elektra kicked back – a furious tangle of limbs – kicking – moving – constant – desperate. Blonde and blue intertwining – Elektra could taste the fur – was it real? she wondered – could smell the warm breath – suddenly a jolt of pain above her eyebrow – she could taste blood in her mouth – if only she could get up, overpower the woman –
Somewhere, far away, a boy yelled "MIIIIIIIIIIKKKKKE!" and then Demon was racing onto the court, pulling the woman off Elektra – all colour drained from his face. Elektra saw him lift her, grab her shoulders, push her backwards, halfway across the court almost – Mike stumbled up to the court – Demon was helping her up – she could feel the acidic bite of the grazes on her hands – then he found what he was looking for in his pocket – got it out – tossed something metallic to Mike – it sailed through the air and shined like hope – the snarling woman lay there breathing, snarling, regrouping – Mike looked bemused and Demon shouted a reply: "IT'S THE FRONT DOOR KEY. GET THE OTHERS. NOW!"
Elektra darted down the garden – as she turned her head to check she wasn't being followed, she saw Demon running round to the front of the house, pursued by the snarling figure in the brown fur thing – they ran down the drive and out onto the street, and Elektra didn't see a thing after that.
Floss stumbled lethargically into the entrance hall.
"…eleven!" counted Carmen. "That's everyone!"
Mike slammed the door shut, emphatically locked it, pushed his back against it and slid down to the floor, taking big panting breaths.
"What the hell was that?!" asked a bewildered Elektra when the dust had settled.
"I don't know," confessed Mike, facing his audience of a bunch of shattered, confused kids who had no idea what had just happened. "Let's just… let's stay in here for a bit. Kids, you can have the day off school; I'm not having you go outside. Get in line for a shower, go back to bed, I don't care. But don't leave the house."
"What about Demon?" asked Ryan.
"I'll worry about him. Go on, upstairs – scram!"
The band of weary children began to trudge up the stairs to fight over showers and clamber into their beds, when they all stopped in their tracks at the sound of a knock on the door. Tap, tap, ta-tap.
Immediately, Elektra urged, "Don't open it." Mike sprang to his feet.
"Elektra, did you see that woman? She wouldn't knock politely like that," Mike reasoned.
"What if it's Demon?" said Ryan from halfway up the stairs.
Mind made up, Mike swung open the door… and a greying, suited man with a briefcase came into the house. He shook Mike's hand firmly, before asking, "Aren't you going to ask to take my coat?"
Mike was stunned. "Uh… who are you?"
"Don't you remember? We spoke on the telephone. Keith Matthews, Talbot Ward Council. I'm the new head of residential care."
Ah, yes. Now that he thought about it, Mike had spoken to Keith Matthews on the phone. But he'd forgotten to put it on the calendar. Forgotten to tell the others. And completely forgotten that today was the day he was arriving for an introductory visit.
As he processed all of this, Mike took the gentleman's coat, placed it on the coat stand and asked, "So you're the new Fiona, then?"
"That's right. I'm here for your introductory visit, just so I can get to know you and the Young People."
"See the Young People, eh?" chirped Mike anxiously. "Decided to, to, uh, to come bright and early, then, did you, eh? Well, uh, as for the Young People, yes the Young People, uh, are… here!"
He gestured to the stairs, where his boss was met by the sight of eleven bedraggled, sleep-deprived, greasy, smelly children, wearing crumpled clothes.
"Hmm…" pondered Mr Matthews. "Well, I'd thought this would just be a quick visit, but it seems I might have to make a more thorough inspection. They're a little… tatty, aren't they? What's happened here?"
Complete, complicit silence all around. The kids all looked at one another, but nobody spoke. Until, perceiving that the gap in the conversation meant it was his turn, Rafiq piped up.
"Mike locked us out, so we slept in the garden all night."
A shocked silence from Mike's boss. He was clearly trying to process this startling information. He looked across to the office on his right; through the windows, he could see two opened wine bottles and an empty glass on the desk. Looking from the erratic Mike to the bottles and back again, he made the connection.
He turned to the kids. "Okay, kiddies, if you could clear out for a minute, I need a quick word with Mr Milligan."
The Young People did as they were told, and Mr Matthews looked solemnly at Mike.
"I'm sorry – you've surprised us somewhat this morning," admitted Mike. "I know you're not seeing us at our best, but-"
"Mr Milligan, I'm going to be staying here for a good hour or so, and I want to inspect everything that goes on around here. What I see had better be good – because it's in your interest that I report something positive to the council."
"You're reporting back to the council?" checked Carmen.
"I thought you said this wasn't an inspection," added Elektra.
"It wasn't," confirmed Mike's boss, "until I came through the door. As it stands, I'll be raising concerns with the council. There might even be an investigation into the running of this place. And you'd better all have a very good explanation for all of this. Because, right now, I don't fancy your chances."
A few hours later, the shower had thundered down its warming jets for the final time and the house had quietened down, though there was still some considerable murmuring about who that feral woman had been, and where Demon had gone.
Jay knew exactly who was knocking at his door, and he knew that they needed to clear the air, so he calmly let Joseph in and beckoned him to sit next to him on the bed.
"So…" started Jay.
"So…"
"Do you want to talk about last night, or…?"
"Last night?" asked Joseph incredulously. "What do you mean?"
"Um, when you asked me out, maybe?"
Joseph pretended to have no knowledge. "I don't know what you mean. You must have been… hallucinating or something." He reflected for a moment – NO! He'd come here to make everything okay, and make everything okay he would. "… I'm sorry."
"For what?"
Joseph arched his eyes. "You know what. You know how sometimes your emotions get the better of you, and you say things that sound right at the time, but then afterwards you realise that… maybe it wasn't the right thing to say? Yeah… I guess that's kinda the situation I'm in now."
"I'm flattered."
"Really?"
"Yeah. It's nice to know someone thinks about me like that. I don't really… like boys like that; at least I don't think so. So, it can't happen. But I appreciate your honesty, man. It takes a lot of guts to say what you're feeling like that."
"So it's all okay?" asked Joseph, happiness and reassurance returning to his worried mind. "Nothing's going to change between us?"
Jay looked Joseph up and down with respect in his eyes. He smiled. "Nah, we're cool. Come 'ere."
He threw his arms wide open, inviting Joseph in for a hug. They embraced, and both of them knew the air had been cleared.
Joseph left the room unable to contain his happiness. It was fine, he thought as he walked along the corridor; everything was okay. He felt so reassured that nothing would change. It didn't diminish the bravery of what he'd done, but it meant that it wouldn't be awkward to be around Jay anymore. It meant—
His left foot snagged on something – oblivious, his right foot carried on, his left lifted up – he tumbled head over heels down the stairs, smashing his shoulder on the wall and cracking his spine as he fell, forming a motionless heap at the bottom.
They could hear the thud all through the house.
Elektra rushed out onto the landing, spotted Joseph and ran to help him, with no idea what had just befallen him. As she reached the top of the stairs, her feet also caught on the invisible tripwire – with a shriek of horror as she realised (just a fraction of a second too late) what had happened, she plummeted down the stairs like a bright blue bullet, crashing to the carpet and smashing onto Joseph.
They lay there, unmoving, lifeless. Broken.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Feel free to leave a review if you enjoyed it! This episode was outlined on 20 February and written 24 February-1 March. The two-part finale begins next Friday (5 April), and you're not even getting a sneak preview or a title this time! You'll have to stick around to find out what happens...