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A Message From An Old Friend

Thursday was always Games at school. Year Ten were not always allowed to go swimming, so today was a very special treat. Amy loved sports, always had and always would, but today she sat up at the leisure centre's café, watching enviously as her friends swam in the swimming pool below. Amy had told her sport teacher shyly that she was on her period, but truthfully she'd been beaten again. Andrew had found her reading the book she'd been told to read for English instead of her Bible at six-thirty the previous evening. Six o'clock to eight was always Bible time, Andrew said, and Good Night Mr Tom had nothing whatsoever to do with the power of God. Amy begged to differ, for she had found a few parallels with her life and that of the main character in the book.

Good Night Mr Tom was about a little London boy called Willie Beech, who had to be evacuated out of London to a place called Little Weirwold during the Second World War, to stay with a guy named Tom. Hence the 'Mr Tom' bit, she guessed. Willie was also beaten by his mother, who also happened to be a crazy Fundamentalist! Amy had spoken to Liam about the book on the chat room and had been told that Mrs Beech was just Andrew in a skirt, and why had she not read that book already? She was fifteen, wasn't she? Even Liam had read that book before he was in Year Ten!

Amy sighed, rubbing her eyes. With the book read, she just had the stupid course work to finish on it. The whole book was actually a biography, her teacher had told the class, about the war time experiences of the famous actor Will Oakley, before he was adopted. He'd been a legend after the war, staring in many new films and countless stage productions, though many people still presumed the book and the man to be linked by coincidence only.

The door to the leisure centre café opened and the sports teacher strolled in, dressed in a loose tracksuit, her hair wet from swimming. The woman ordered a coffee and a tea, then seated herself at the table next to her lonely pupil, and smiled as she pushed the tea towards Amy.

"Are looking forwards to the evacuation, Amy?" she asked lightly, as Amy graciously excepted the tea. "I have to hand out letters at the end of this lesson about what you need to take with you."

"I'm not sure if I want to go," Amy confessed, pouring milk into the cup absently. "I mean, its so worrying knowing that you are safe, yet people you know and love are stuck here..." Amy paused, suddenly alerted to something: she would be evacuated to some place in the country, and her stepfather wouldn't be there! She could escape!

"It will be fine, Amy, I'm sure," the sports teacher remarked kindly. "Everyone wants you children to be safe, and I'm pretty sure that this shan't last for much longer." Amy gave her a funny look, and the woman sighed sadly. "Yes, I know: famous last words. But I'm sure this war will be over sooner rather than later. I hope it is."

"I'll miss everything here," Amy said quietly, then thought, Well, except him.

The teacher nodded. "I know, Amy. I hope everything goes all right for you."

Amy jumped off the bus and hurried into Malling Heights. She glanced at her watch again and cringed: it was six o'clock already! Amy hurtled up the stairs as fast as she could, diving up the stairs and taking them two at a time. Andrew was going to be furious with her!

"Where have you been?" the man growled as soon as Amy opened the front door to the apartment. He was standing in the hall, arms crossed across his chest as he waited for the girl to arrive back. There was a glint of anger in his eyes, making Amy's heart tighten. "Amy Wilson, I demand to know where you've been."

"I'm sorry, Andrew," Amy mumbled quietly, hanging her head and toying nervously with the strap of her school bag. "My friends were going out to a café for a farewell drink. I...I went with them. I'm sorry. I didn't plan to be so long."

Andrew snorted in response. "Friends? When did you acquire friends? There's no one that would associate themselves with you, not when you walk the path you do. Sinner. You were with a boy, weren't you?"

Amy's eyes opened wide with horror. A boy? Her? That was impossible, she knew, for Andrew was always telling her that no boy would give her a second look. She wasn't good enough. She wasn't pretty enough. No one wanted to be seen with a girl whose mother had...

"I wasn't with a boy," Amy whispered. "I promise. I swear! I was with my friends, Andrew. I'm sorry. I should have called."

Andrew suddenly clenched his fists, fury in his eyes, not believing the truth. "DON'T YOU DARE LIE TO ME, GIRL! YOU WERE WITH A--"

The phone began to ring. Andrew gave her a warning look and pointed to her room. Hanging her head in disgrace, Amy hurried off as quickly as she could and silently dumped her bag on the floor, and retrieved her suitcase out from the cupboard. As she checked over the list of items that the sports teacher had given the whole class after swimming, Amy blocked out the furious conversation going on out in the hall. She refused to listen – something was wrong, she could tell.

When Andrew finally came into her room, Amy had packed her bag, unpacked it again to check she really had remembered everything, then repacked it again. He looked angrier than when he had accused her of being in the company of a young man, and he shook his head with a pained expression on his face.

"That was Barring Estate," Andrew growled, and Amy looked up at the mention of her brother's school. "It's Liam. That little blighter tried to run away---"

"What!"

"Wait, Amy," Andrew growled, as Amy made to run for her mobile. "The police caught him this morning. He's back in the care of my brother." The man's eyes grew cold. "He shall be punished for this."

"Is he all right?" Amy pleaded.

"Yes. He's being charged for assaulting an officer – he punched one of the kind officers taking him back to Barring Estate." Andrew took her hands gently in his own. "Do you not see why its so important for me to try and protect you, my dear? You are like a daughter to me, and I would hate to see you fall into sin as much as your brother has. I fear there is no hope for him, but there is for you. And I shall help you." He ruffled her fondly, then made for the door. "Oh, and I've asked for you to stay with religious people while you're evacuated, so that they can continue my work. Good night, Amy."

Amy smiled slightly, then nodded back. When Andrew had gone, she brushed her hair and wiped her hands with a cleansing wipe. She was just packing her handbag with the essentials she would need for tomorrow's journey, when her phone suddenly bleeped. Amy picked it up and frowned as she saw that she did not recognise the number, but curiosity got the better of her initial fear. Andrew did not believe in speaking to those you did not know, but Amy was intrigued. She was going to be starting a new life, why shouldn't she be more adventurous.

The text was formal, not written in the normal code most teenagers used. Most adults preferred to text more like they were writing a letter. This was no exception, and Amy read with interest:

Unknown to Amy Mob: Amy its me. Ive just heard about your mother and I cant tell you how sorry I am. Aunty Julie gave me your number and if you want to call me and talk you now have my number to do so. I leave the decision to you. I'm sorry. Jake

Amy sat there for a moment, staring at the text message before her with a mixture of excitement and horror. She read it again and again, then bit her lip. Amy sat silently for a moment, staring at the name at the end of the text. Amy hadn't heard a word from her mother's sister since the woman had married Andrew, and this was the first time the girl had thought of the woman in many years. But her aunt hadn't liked Jake Wilson either, and dislike had immediately turned to loathing after the man had walked out on the family for another woman. Amy worried the bottom of her lip nervously, suddenly feeling very uneasy.

Why on earth had Aunt Julie given Amy's much hated father her number? What if Andrew found out? More importantly, what would her brother say if he ever found out?

Amy clicked onto the menu with forceful determination, then paused. Her finger hovered over the button that would delete the message forever, and then she would never have to think of the man again. But was that what she wanted? No, Amy had to delete the message! She sighed sadly, then exited the menu, leaving the message safely stored away in her phone for later consideration and confusion.

Tomorrow was the day she would leave London, her home, her school, her friends. More importantly, Amy would leave Andrew far behind her. Nothing could dampen the amazing feeling of hope that she got from the one thought! She could be free!

That's it for now. It's getting to the point soon enough! Oooooh, where's she going? Llamas, the Ginger-Bizkit!