White Petals Read online

  Contents

  Dedication

  Title Page

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER HEADINGS

  AUTHOR'S ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  COPYRIGHT

  Advert

  For Charla

  For the readers & dreamers

  For Emmelines everywhere

  Maria Grace was born in Caerphilly, South Wales. She studied Creative & Professional Writing at university, and graduated with first-class honours. She enjoys walks on the beach, afternoon tea, reading good books and watching bad telly. She now lives in Pontypridd with her daughter, her partner and her shih-tzu Bella. White Petals is her debut novel. www.mariagrace.co.uk

  Publisher’s note:

  The illustrations at the beginning of each chapter are all drawn by artists aged 11-18 who entered our White Petals competition. The winners are listed at the back of the book. A huge thanks to them and to all the excellent young artists who entered the competition.

  WHITE PETALS

  MARIA GRACE

  ONE

  I walked up the garden path, stepping over the bits of broken glass on the ground. Like them, I felt shattered. But I realised I wasn’t scared. When the thing you fear most happens, you can actually be quite brave. The worst was over now.

  She was safe. We were safe. That’s all that mattered. I could hear the sirens in the background, fading out into the crisp October air.

  My social worker, Mel, put my bag in the boot of her car and turned to Grandma Coalman. ‘Are you sure you’re going to be OK, Anna?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll be fine!’ Grandma Coalman answered in her too-high voice, which meant that she really wasn’t fine at all. ‘I would just like the girls to stay with me, that’s all. I don’t see what the problem is.’

  ‘Anna, we’ve been over this,’ said Mel. ‘If it was my choice, of course I would let them stay with you. But it’s not my choice. We have to stick to the rules, and the rules say that three people can’t stay in a bungalow with just one bedroom.’

  ‘Balls to the rules!’ Grandma Coalman stamped her foot and tears started to roll down her face. ‘They are my grandchildren! If their mother isn’t going to be here, then I should be. If my son was alive, this wouldn’t be happening. He was their father and he would never allow it.’

  Mel put her arm around her, and for a second Grandma Coalman submitted to the comfort. ‘I just feel so help-less.’

  ‘I know,’ Mel consoled. ‘But I swear to you, Anna, I will make sure the girls are looked after. And I will bring them to see you every week, without fail. Just give them a couple of days to settle in, and then I’ll get them to ring you, OK?’

  Grandma Coalman nodded her head sadly.

  I looked across at my little sister, Freya. Her foster family were helping to get her bags in their car, ready for the move. I knew that she would be OK because she’d been visiting Bill and Nora’s house for a long time now – it was like a second home to her. She’d been there every month since my dad died. And she had Lola – Bill and Nora’s foster-daughter – to play with while she was there.

  I was too old to go with her, apparently. Respite was mainly for the little ones, Mel said. And besides, they only had enough room for two kids. I understood, but I wished they’d had room for me too.

  ‘Em!’ Freya ran to me, excited. ‘Bill and Nora said that I can Skype you tomorrow! So it will be like we’re in the same room!’

  ‘Cool!’ I did my best fake smile.

  ‘How long will we be away from each other this time?’ asked Freya. ‘Will it be like a holiday again or will it be longer?’

  ‘I think it’s going to be a bit longer this time, Freya,’ I replied. ‘But that’s OK, isn’t it? It will give us a chance to get the house all fixed up for us to move back in again. Like new.’

  ‘Yeah, I s’pose.’ Freya looked at the mess around us. ‘What happened, Em? Youcan tell me. I’m not a baby, you know!’

  ‘I know that! You’re almost as tall as me!’ I measured her against me as I shrunk myself to be as short as I could get. She stood on tippy toes to reach my height.

  ‘Well, tell me what happened then.’

  ‘Oi!’ Grandma Coalman saved me from the interrogation. ‘I told you what happened, Missy!’

  Freya laughed out loud. ‘Gram! That story isn’t true.’

  ‘It is!’ Grandma Coalman protested. ‘Ask Bill and Nora. They’ll tell you.’

  Freya looked over to Bill and Nora, and they both nodded in solidarity with Grandma Coalman. Then she looked at Mel, who also nodded. Finally, she looked at me. I dutifully nodded to show that I too believed the story. Even though I knew it wasn’t right.

  Freya turned to Lola. ‘Lola, do you want to know happened to my house?’ she asked.

  ‘What?’ Lola looked wide-eyed at Freya, waiting for the revelation.

  ‘Grandma Coalman says that a lion escaped from the zoo!’ Freya snarled for dramatic effect as she spoke. ‘My mum was cooking beef for dinner, and because the lion was hungry, it could smell the beef from fifty miles away! So it made its way here – to my house.’

  Lola gasped in shock, loving the danger.

  ‘And then…’ Freya paced slowly, milking every word. ‘The lion JUMPED through our front window, ran all the way through the house and broke EVERYTHING!’

  ‘That must be why there’s glass on your garden path!’ shouted Lola, pointing at the broken glass from the front-room window.

  Freya nodded proudly at the evidence. ‘And then my mum wrestled the lion to the ground, like Tarzan of the Jungle. She managed to tie its paws together until the RSPCA came to take it back to the zoo, but now she’s had to go into hospital for a little while so the doctors can make sure she’s OK. It’s not every day that you wrestle a lion, you know.’

  ‘WOW!’ Lola clapped her hands together for Freya’s mum – the hero.

  Freya beamed with pride.

  Lola’s eyebrows lowered as she thought carefully and asked, ‘What happened to the beef?’

  Freya and Lola both looked to Grandma Coalman.

  ‘Unfortunately, your mum wasn’t able to save the beef,’ Grandma Coalman said in her most sympathetic voice. ‘But it’s OK. It’s on offer for half-price at Tesco, so I’ll just buy some more.’

  Bill and Nora got the girls into the car and Freya wound down the back window to say goodbye. I leant inside and kissed her forehead, promising I’d speak to her on Skype the following day.

  I waved to my little sister as the car drove away, and as it disappeared out of sight, the entire contents of my stomach felt like they were going to come out of my mouth or out of my backside. That’s how stressed I was.

  I walked around the side of the garden and closed my eyes.

  When I opened them, I was faced again with the carnage my mother had so kindly left behind today. As I tried to absorb everything
that had happened, I caught sight of our old rose bush in the corner of the garden, looking as pitiful as I felt.

  It used to grow the most amazing white roses I had ever seen. But since Dad passed away, not even the tiniest buds had graced its branches. What was once a burst of white petals, was now just … thorns.

  ‘Right then, kiddo.’ Mel opened her car door for me. ‘Are you ready to go?’

  I hugged Grandma Coalman tightly. I could feel her shaking a little, and guilt brought tears to my eyes.

  Hold it together, Em. Don’t let her see you upset. She has enough on her plate as it is.

  ‘Ring me tomorrow, OK?’ Grandma Coalman held my face and kissed my cheeks.

  ‘OK,’ I replied.

  ‘I’m so sorry that I can’t keep you both with me,’ Grandma Coalman said, ‘but Mel says that the bungalow isn’t big enough, and that I’m too old.’

  ‘Anna!’ Mel shouted. ‘I did not say that you were too old!’

  ‘That’s what you meant.’ Grandma Coalman scowled at Mel.

  ‘I’ll be fine, Gram,’ I reassured her. ‘Honestly!’

  I sat in the back seat of the car. Mel got in and switched on the engine.

  Grandma Coalman started to wave goodbye, but something to the left caught her eye and her face hardened.

  I turned to see what she was looking at.

  Stood on the pavement were Zoe-two-doors-up and her niece, Stacey Lock.

  They both smirked at me and Grandma Coalman. They were clearly pleased with the chaos of the afternoon. It would give them something to tweet about.

  Great. The last thing I needed was Stacey Lock knowing my business. She wasn’t exactly the kind of person who kept things to herself, and she always relished the chance to embarrass me in any way. The entire school would know by the time we went back after half-term.

  A sudden sharp pain attacked my eardrum. I cupped my hand over my ear to try and soothe it, but it was really strong. A loud ringing noise filled my ear, high-pitched and piercing. It felt like someone was blowing a whistle inside my mind.

  ‘Aaarghhh!’

  Mel quickly stopped the engine. ‘Em! Are you OK?’

  Grandma Coalman yanked the car door open. ‘What’s the matter, love?’

  ‘It’s just my ear,’ I replied, wincing. ‘It’ll ease up in a couple of minutes.’

  Grandma Coalman looked over to where Zoe-two-doors-up and Stacey Lock were standing with smug grins on their faces. ‘Funny how your ear plays up whenever that girl shows her face, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s probably just a coincidence,’ said Mel, laughing.

  Grandma Coalman and I exchanged a knowing glance. She raised her eyebrows. ‘If there’s anything that this family understands, it’s that there is no such thing as coincidence.’ She cast a watchful eye in Stacey Lock’s direction. ‘I think you might be allergic.’

  ‘To what?’ I asked.

  ‘Trouble.’ She closed the car door again and waved goodbye to us for the final time that day.

  I looked through the back window and caught a glimpse of Stacey Lock laughing out loud as we drove away.

  TWO

  When we were nearly there, the car passed a little park with a rose bush by the gate. White roses blossomed eagerly, jumping out from the leaves to greet me.

  I stared at them, hardly able to believe my eyes. I knew those beautiful white roses, though I hadn’t seen them in a long time. The rose bush was identical to the one that used to grow in our garden.

  Goosebumps covered my arms. A quick shiver went right through me – like walking into the sea and letting the water hit your belly for the first time. I folded my arms and wished I had my lucky cardigan to keep me warm. But it was in my suitcase, so I’d have to wait. I loved that cardigan. It was the first item of clothing I had bought completely by myself: a declaration of independence. I had bought it to go and see Ed Sheeran last year, and during the concert he reached out from the stage and actually touched my cardigan as he sang. I won’t lie to you – I nearly fainted.

  I snapped back into the moment. Focus, Em.

  I didn’t understand. How could I be seeing those roses again? Logically, it just wasn’t possible. But this little voice inside me – so faint, I could feel it more than hear it – told me that they were the white roses from my garden.

  What did it mean? Was I seeing things now? When Nana Rose was alive, she always said that I was like her and Mum. They both had second sight, in different ways. But I didn’t have anything like that. So why did I feel there was something strange going on? I had a sense of déjà vu and it made me restless.The roses were some kind of sign. A sign of what, I wasn’t sure.

  My tummy flipped over and an involuntary burp came out of my mouth. I took a deep breath and tried to settle myself.

  I leant my head against the car window and watched trickles of rain run down the glass. This day was a load of pants.

  I wasn’t sure how far away we were from my house, but I knew it was quite near because we’d only been half an hour on the M4.

  ‘You OK back there?’ Mel asked from the driver’s seat.

  ‘Super,’ I replied sarcastically.

  ‘I know you’re angry,’ said Mel. ‘But you’ll be OK, I promise. You’re a tough cookie, Em. And this place isn’t bad. It’s actually quite nice. Definitely one of the more pleasant places I’ve worked with.’

  Mel was alright … for a social worker. She always wore hippie clothes – which was shaming – but other than that, she was almost cool. But the woman never shut up! She was like a machine. I sometimes wondered which one of us was the social worker and which of us was the kid, because it was supposed to be me talking and her listening, but it was usually the other way round. I didn’t mind, though. If she was bumping her gums about her boyfriend problems, instead of me bumping mine about my home problems, then that was fine by me. Well, when I say ‘home problems’, what I mean is Mum.

  A regular contributor to the Child Protection Register, Mum wasn’t just a risk to me and Freya, she was a risk to the whole of society.

  There’s me – fourteen years old, sitting in the back of my social worker’s car, on my way to Alcatraz or somewhere.

  My little sister Freya, was once again in temporary foster care at Bill and Nora’s house.

  Poor Grandma Coalman was probably having a double stroke all down her right side from the stress.

  And where was Mum during all this?

  Thefriggin’ nuthouse, that’s where.

  Mel must have clocked my face in her mirror, because she asked me again if I was OK.

  I said yes, and nodded. My voice sort of croaked a bit, like I was going to cry or something. I daren’t look up, just in case I caught her eye, because then I probably would cry and I’d feel stupid.

  So I just kept my eyes on the window as we drove up the hill and turned into the car park of the children’s home.

  THREE

  The home was a bit of a dump. It had a stale feel to it, like a dirty office building. The same carpet ran all the way through. Every wall was cream – magnolia, Mum would say – but with dirty handprints and a yellow tinge. Like spit.

  The place just smacked of disadvantage.

  Mel went into some kind of office with a woman called Sue, who looked about sixty with short grey hair. They said they had ‘some things to go over’. I reckoned that whatever they had to ‘go over’ probably involved me, so why was I not invited into the office too? Adults could be real plebs when they wanted to be.

  I sat at a table in the dining area, with my suitcase next to me, gripping it like it was the only thing I owned. Well, it was, I suppose. At least while I was staying here anyway.

  I had a room of my own at home, with a laptop and a telly. I had a mini chandelier in the centre of my ceiling, with little crystals that cast rainbow shadows over my bedroom walls. The colours could cheer you up even on the most rubbish of days. But for now, all that was mine lay inside my suitcase, and my white knuckl
es showed how much I treasured it.

  Oh, no. Did I remember to pack my lucky cardigan? Yes… Yes, I definitely packed it.

  The place wasn’t like I imagined a children’s home to be. I’d pictured hundreds of wild kids running around, screaming and smoking joints. But in real life, it was very quiet. I wondered where everyone was.

  When Mel and Sue came out of the office, Sue told me that the other kids had been on a camping trip and were due back that evening. She offered to show me to my room, so we all walked through the corridors and up the stairs to a spacious room with two single beds. One of the beds had a mini-skirt and a hot-water bottle on it, so it obviously belonged to someone else.

  ‘That’s Karra’s bed,’ said Sue. She adjusted Karra’s bedcovers to tidy them. ‘You’ll be sharing a room with her. She’s got a mouth like a sewer, but a heart of gold!’

  I smiled politely as Sue crossed the room to the second bed and said, ‘And this bed here is yours.’ She fussed with my bedcovers the same way that she’d fussed with Karra’s, and the fairness of it brought a lump of relief to my throat.

  Sue left the room to go back downstairs. I put my case on the bed and sighed.

  I was in a children’s home.

  How did this happen?

  Mel looked around the room and raised her eyebrows enthusiastically. ‘Oooh! This is nice!’ She tried to make light of the situation, but I could spot a lie a mile away, and she knew it.

  ‘Are you serious?’ I stared at her for a second, an unexpected wave of anger surging through me. You don’t bring someone to a place like this when they haven’t even done anything wrong, and then have the cheek to pretend it’s nice.

  Degrading, I think it’s called. My best friend Megan threw that word around a lot in school. The three words she’d used the most this term were ‘degrading’, ‘empowered’ and ‘dichotomy’. She was a feminist, see.

  Mel’s smile quickly faded and she shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot. I felt guilty because I knew that it wasn’t Mel’s fault that I was here, but pride was a hard pie to swallow and I couldn’t bring myself to apologise for snapping.

  We went back downstairs and Sue moved to the kitchen so I could have ten minutes with Mel before we said goodbye to each other.