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Mum squints at me as alk into the show ‘Are the crowds too much for you, Kyla?’ she asks, and slips her arm across my shoulders
‘I’m fine,’ I say, and with Amy on one side and Mum on the other, soon I am And I’m not sure what even bothered me in the first place
The show is all noise, with people and animals everywhere Rich country smells fill the air I find I am quite content to stick close to Mum, even when Amy disappears with her friends
There are endless displays and cooods ; livestock of all sorts in pens and in rings Mum seems to know alo along
‘Kyla! You made it,’ a voice calls from behind
We turn, and there is Ben, and Tori His smile is warm, but her hand is curled around his ar it to be there
Muoing to Group You’ve gotten taller’
‘Yes, Mrs Davis’
‘Good ti at so to have a drink with a friend’
I flush in embarrassment Someone else asked to babysit
‘Of course,’ Ben says ‘We were just thinking of going to the Sheep Show, if you’d like to come?’
Tori rolls her eyes ‘Oh, joy It is billed as the Miss World of sheep I can hardly wait’
Mum raises an eyebrow ‘You’d do well to take care with your words here today, young lady,’ she says, her oords now so quiet it is hard to hear the us Then she disappears with her friend
Tori’s mouth drops open ‘Who does she think she is?’ she says, loud and bristly, ignoring Ben’s ssssh
‘If you don’t know, little girl, then I’ll tell you,’ says abehind us, who -Davis’
‘So?’ Tori says, a hand on each hip
‘The daughter of Willia starts to cross Tori’s face, but I am none the wiser
‘What does he mean?’ I say, as alk away
‘Don’t you even knoho your own mother is?’ Tori says
I look up at Ben, confused
‘She is the daughter of Was back in the 2020s,’ he says ‘He was the Lorder PM, before the terrorists blew hiht her parents died in a hs ‘They did, if you call blowing up a ht?’ Ben asks, and links his other ar tiured you’d know all about it’
‘I’o to the Sheep Show There are a variety of attractive sheep – if you’re into that sort of thing – with interesting naa and Marilyn Monroe, all paraded about while their virtues are extolled, and then a prize ceremony It seems so silly, that soon all of us – even Tori – are laughing and cheering along with the crowd Marilyn wins
Next is a sheep shearing deles at first Then there is realisation in her eyes: thisbut lie limply while sharp blades so close to her skin relieve her of her wool; nothing to keep her warh the winter Maybe that doesn’tthe end of the line
Wonder if she is visualising her Happy Place to get through it?
Muo?’ Mu; there are no security checks, and we just spill out a gate But off to one side are a fewfaces, one by one, as everyone leaves And as if they are standing in a collective blind spot, the crowd pretends they don’t exist
Late that night I stare at the ceiling Amy confirmed Mum’s family history Why hadn’t anyone told me?
Maybe it is because they knew I’d connect the dots in a way Amy would not Mum’s parents were killed by terrorists; her dad’s life as routing out and annihilating gangs that al was a treatment option Back then they were all put to death
Yet now she is fostering two Slateds T daughters ere criminals, no ang me to feel like maybe, at least some of the time, I understand her and what she is about, now this I find I don’t get her, at all
The other thing keeping nored So myself to ask who they were, but for some reason their mere presence filled me with cold dread and fear So much so it was hard to even move But soo on, screa don’t make them notice you Did I succeed? Aht sound, downstairs: Sebastian? He is not curled along my feet as usual; maybe, he can help me sleep I slip out of bed and down the steps
‘Sebastian?’ I call, softly, and walk into the dark kitchen, the floor cold undermy arms and up my spine
I turn towards a movement, not sosize and shape for a cat
Light floods my eyes
I open my mouth to scream
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘Are you sure you don’t want some tea?’ Dad asks
‘I’m fine, really,’ I say, and back towards the door
‘I didn’t hten you’ He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes He looks very tired, like he hasn’t slept since he left yesterday Rued, either, but the black trousers and pullover he wears are not what he had on when he left for the pub
For one so tired he moved very fast Across the roo the screa its way up led whi Once the dazzle left h to see that it was hi over, then nods to himself
‘Sit,’ he says, and puts two cups next to the kettle
I sit
He makes tea, unhurried Glances at me now and then For one normally so talkative, the silence stretches around us
‘I as,’ he finally says