"Izzie Charles," she said, pushing a pair of overly large glasses up her nose and extending a slightly grubby hand. The blond girl who stood before her wrinkled her freckled nose. "Alright," Izzie dragged out the word, looking deeply into the girl's bright blue eyes. She stuck her tongue out, more playful than spiteful, crinkling her own nose and turned on her heel. She skipped towards a couple of girls whose gap-toothed smiles became giggles as Izzie approached. Safi's nose unwrinkled itself, but the sentiment remained. Her heart beat fast in her chest and she worried her lip between her teeth. Leaning back against the playground wall, she'd always felt safest at the edges. Safi knew that everyone had been told it was her first day; Told to be nice, told to try, they always were. Then they found out and nobody wanted to try that hard anymore. She was sure that she woudn't be here long enough to need friends anyway. That her mother would find some reason that this place wasn't safe for them either. Safi hoped this time it might be different though, her mother had always smiled when she'd talked about Manchester.
"Princess!" Donte waved from across the playgroud and Safi watched as Izzie ran into his open arms.
"Daddy!" Izzie's wide smile showing off all three gaps where teeth had fallen out. She jumped into Donte's arms and he swung her onto one hip with ease. "Where's Mummy?" Izzie asked, wrapping her arms around her father's neck "Monday is a Mummy day." He smiled at her words, it wasn't hard to imagine them coming from Chlo.
"Mummy had to work late, baby. She said we should get pizza and that she'll pick you up later." He kissed the side of her head and she wriggled in his arms. Dropping her gently to the ground, he held out his hand for her to hold. Izzie gripped it tightly and the pair walked together towards the purple van parked across the street. The old wording had faded somewhat, but anyone who'd known Donte at school knew he still drove around in his ex-wife's mobile salon. Chlo's Cuts had lasted all of about six months before Kim Campbell had persuaded her to go to university, and though that dream never really got going either, she had still given up the salon for greater things. Having somehow managed to juggle acing A-levels and being a new mum, she'd then secured a cushy office job in the city. She was paid more a week than Donte was in two, and that had only been the start of the problems.
Izzie climbed into the passenger seat, instantly fiddling with the radio until she found some teeny-bop station. Donte rolled his eyes as he climbed into the driver's side. Her eyes flicked silently to the back of the van, Donte's sleeping bag still unrolled on the floor. He gave her a quick wink as he pulled his seatbelt on, then pressed his finger to his lips. "Grandad Tom says," Izzie started quietly, but stopped herself knowing what her father would say. Donte didn't much care for what Tom Clarkson had to say about him anymore. As they pulled away from the school Izzie caught sight of the new girl, the one she'd tried to be nice to earlier. She lifted her hand in a wave, but Safi just averted her eyes.
Safi had watched Izzie run to her father, her chestnut brown hair flowing out behind her. She kicked a stone in their general direction. Too far away to hit them, not that she'd actually intended to. She could almost feel herself turning green at the sight. Forcing herself to turn away, she brushed her hot cheek with the pads of her fingers, and when she turned back the girl with the glasses had gone. Safi found herself on the verge of tears for the first time that day. She knew her mother would ask questions if she cried, more questions than normal anyway. She sniffed back tears, rubbing under her eyes with flat palms.
"Safi," her mother's voice cutting through her thoughts. Safi forced her face into a smile, a dimple forming on one side, something she'd inherited from her mother. Taking her mother's outstretched hand they walked towards the gates, the playground now empty of parents. She was always last, no matter which school. Her excuse was usually work, but Safi knew the truth. Safi knew that her mother was just as afraid as she was, she just showed it in a different way.
They were walking home, they always did. Safi's mother ensuring that whichever house they rented, in whichever town they ended up, was within walking distance to everywhere they needed to go. As they reached the gates she spotted those large glasses again, the girl waved from the window of a bright purple van that once, a long time ago, had someone's name on the side. Safi looked away, catching the end of a gasp from her mother as her face paled.
"Who's that?" She asked, though it seemed to Safi that she already knew. Safi often wondered why adults did that; pretended not to know things. She shrugged, but her mother shot her a look that said she wasn't happy with Safi's attempt at avoidance. "You have words, Saffron," She said, looking around before focussing on her daughter's face again, "It's just us." Safi bit her lip, twiddling her hair around one finger.
"Izzie," she said, barely more than a whisper. She smiled triumphant, having given her mother just the right amount of information. Safi was clever, working out that she'd recognised the van; she was sure her mother already knew Izzie's second name. Her mother pulled her jacket so close around her body that Safi could almost see her ribs poking through.
"You don't go near her Saffron, you hear me!" She shot her daughter another look, before turning to walk away. Safi knew her mother well enough not to argue that she hadn't actually been near Izzie to begin with, and even when the girl had waved she'd turned away. She simply raised her hand in a salute before following her mother down the street.