Back in my room there was another knock at my door.

'Who is it?' I snapped, more angrily than I'd intended

'It's me,'

'What do you want?'

'Can I come in?' I went to say no, but he'd already opened my door.

'Go away.' I said turning my back to him.

'Toots, this is my room too. I want Daddy to play.' Ellie said

'Can't you play somewhere else?'

No was the reply I got.

'So… This is your room. It's nice – I like the posters but what happened to the butterfly poem I got you – and the curtains. I see you still have the dolls and the teddies, Ellie, but where's the stuff I got you, Toots?' Dad asked, peering around judgementally

I looked down – they were thrown away, destroyed and forgotten. I didn't want anything to remind me of him. Perhaps that's why I got over him leaving so quickly – I got rid of everything Dadish.

'She threw them away.' Ellie announced 'because she's mean – but I kept mine because I always knew you were the best Daddy.'

'Aww,' Dad pulled her close, cuddling her, but over his shoulder, he glared at me.

'I always knew you'd come back.' Ellie smiled

'Of course I would – Toots is just being silly and stupid. Ignore her, she's just trying to ruin this for everyone else.'

My cheeks burned red and anger welled up inside me – I wasn't trying to ruin it for them, I was just trying to stop them getting hurt when this all goes wrong.

I stood up and walked out the room without a word. Ellie poked her tongue out at me. In the living room, Mum and Sid were putting all the photos with Dad in them back out.

'Want to help Toots? There's lots to do.' Mum called

'No. I'm going out.'

'Toots? Are you all right? Toots, come back, where are you going.'

I block out Mum's shouts and grab my coat, pull on some shoes and slam the door. I breathe, knowing I'm away, away from him. I'm even glad I'm away from them.

I walk round the block, not knowing where I'm going. I've never been tempted by the option of running away. I don't think living on the streets is the answer, it's not helpful to anyone – it just makes life harder.

It's also like running away from trouble. Perhaps if you were being beaten and abused, there would be an excuse – but as for Dad turning up, there's got to be another way to solve it. Another way to get everyone to realise that he's bad news.

I walk down passed our old house. It's been done up, there's new windows and a driveway. A happy family live there – two young children with a two parents who are still together and love each other.

I carry on walking, remembering my time in that house, when we were a happy family. Probably from around the time we were five until we were 7 or 8. Around the time Ellie was born.

When Dad left, she was too young to realise how serious Dad leaving was. She thought he had gone on holiday, which is probably why she still has the teddies, the dolls and the ability to say he's the best father in the world. As for me, when he left, I kicked him out of my life and got rid of the evidence – well sort of. I kept some of the stuff he gave me, because I couldn't bare to part with it. I also never got rid of the memory. I'm not that tough.

I walk quickly past the pub where Dad used to drink. It's loud, noisy and full of idiots who think they're so tough when really when faced with danger, they run. That's how I see the Bash street boys growing up to be.

A car pulls up along side me and I recognise the driver straight away. Dad. The Dad, who says he doesn't drink anymore, has just pulled up outside his rowdy pub with a handful of notes – I wonder where he got that.

He sees me and for a moment we just stare at each other before he gives me a look as if to say 'Please don't tell.' I give him one back saying 'I won't' And I won't. Not yet, anyway. Let the trouble build up first, I think because one drink can't hurt anyone.

Back at home; Mum is cooking a big dinner – roast beef, Dad's favourite.

'You're Dad's just gone down to the shops for me,' Mum smiles 'Are you all right,'

'Oh, I'm fine now you see, but I won't be when be when he comes back.'

'Toots, you're so horrid,' Ellie shouted appearing in the doorway.

'Yeah, you're being really unfair.' Mum agrees.

Sid stands in silence, unsure which side to take. He looks worried and annoyed all at the same time. I sigh and go back to my room, pulling my bed across the door so Ellie can't get in.

The smell of roast beef drifts in through the shut door and I feel sick. I hate roast beef. I decide to go out and get myself pizza so I wouldn't have to eat with them. I climb up onto my bedside table so I can reach the top of the wardrobe, where I keep my money. I keep it here so it's safe and out of Ellie's reach. Neither Sid nor Mum knows it's there so I always leave it there.

I reach for some of my birthday money I got from my Nan and my Aunt but I find nothing. It was there this morning, because I'd put the two pounds from my school bag with it. But now the £20 note and the two fivers were gone.

I checked down the back of the wardrobe, under my bed and around my room; I even asked Mum if she'd seen it. She hadn't of course. I sit down on my bed, at a loss, but then I recall the money, Dad had in his hand in the car. Two fivers and a twenty.

At first I want to shout at him, tell Mum and everyone, but then I remember the pan – let the trouble build up. Everyone is far too brainwashed by him at the moment, to even consider he would do anything wrong.

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