Into the Gloaming

In a pickle

"They've looked after foster children for us before. Do you want to talk to them? I have their phone number. I think they'll want to see you."

"Can't you talk to them?" I pleaded, Phil nodded and dialled. There was no way I was talking to this Aunt and this Grandmother.

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

"Hello, is that Connie? It's Phil from Child Protection."

Waiting

"I'm good Con, how are you?"

Waiting

"No, nothing new on Elizabeth's mother, I don't know quite how to tell you this, but were you aware that your son has a daughter?"

Waiting

"Her name is Persephone and she's eleven years old."

Waiting

"Per-seph-on-ee"

Waiting

"I know it must be quite a shock for you."

Waiting

"Well I actually have to ask you if you could possibly have her stay with you for a little while."

Waiting

"Ideally, from tonight, I know it's short notice, and usually we'd have to go through all the paperwork but Persephone's in a bit of a pickle at the moment and needs somewhere to stay."

Waiting. I imagined being in a pickle, like a slimy green canoe.

"Well I'm sorry to say that her Mum just passed away and her Dad isn't coping too well at the moment."

Waiting

"Thankyou so much, very much appreciated as always Con."

Waiting

"She's actually in hospital at the moment, she had to have a minor operation to remove some chipped bone in her elbow."

Waiting

"I'll ask her," Phil pressed the phone against his chest "do you want to meet them now?" he asked me

I shook my head no. I didn't want to meet them at all. I wanted to go home.

"If you meet them now, you can decide if you like them, if you don't then I can find you somewhere else to stay."

"Ok then." I said, defeated. I really had no choice. I had no choice in anything anymore. It certainly made life easier. Boring, but easier.

"She says that's fine. Thankyou very much Connie, see you soon, bye." Phil turned to me.

"She's very nice, and they've had foster children live with them before, so they've got room for you and they're good at looking after kids. She sounds very excited to meet you."

"I don't see why."

"Seffy I know this must be a bit scary for you,"

"Scary? It's only scary if they're zombies or something."

"They're not zombies. Don't worry about it, you'll be fine."

"When are they coming?"

"In about an hour. What do you want to do until then?"

I wanted to sit around in a huff and yell at people and throw plates at walls and moan and groan. I didn't say anything.

"Do you know how to play scrabble? There's a scrabble set in the play area."

"Yeah, I used to play scrabble with Mum sometimes."

Phil sort of half smiled but his eyes still looked sad, and went to get the scrabble. What a weird thing to say, half smiled. Like maybe just his top lip smiled, or maybe just the right side of his mouth like a stroke victim. Or maybe the right half of his top lip and the left half of his bottom lip. I tried to smile with the right half of my top lip and the left half of my bottom lip.

Phil came back in with a battered looking box of scrabble.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I was just trying to... yeah I'm fine." I said, smiling. I must have looked ridiculous.

"Are you sure? Seffy a lot of stuff has happened to you over the last few days, there must be a lot going on inside that pretty little head of yours."

I nodded, there's always lots of stuff going on inside my head.

Phil started setting up the board on my table. I turned all the letters upside down.

"How do you feel?"

I thought about it, I felt... warm in the hospital bed, but uncomfortably warm. There was a funny stale taste in my mouth and my teeth felt furry.

"I feel like I need a shower."

Phil smiled, "you probably do, but you have to be careful with your arm. How do you feel about your Dad right now?"

I slowly selected my seven upside down letters.

"I'm worried about him I guess."

"Why's that?"

"Because he's insane."

"He's not insane, he's just under a lot of stress and pressure right now, and so are you."

"Do you think I'm going to go crazy too?"

"I don't think so, but I think you need to get all your feelings out in the open and talk about them, otherwise they'll eat you up and you won't be very happy."

I imagined a lot of very violent feelings eating me up from the inside out, chomp chomp chomp, and then bursting out through my stomach and going on a rampage like Godzilla, the police would be powerless against them, then someone smart like my Dad would realise that you can only hurt a feeling by saying mean things about it. He'd make billboards with "Persephone is fat and ugly and stupid" written on them and my rampaging feelings would wither and die and Dad would get a medal from the police.

"Do you think he'll get in trouble with the police?"

"I don't know Sef. Do you want to go first?"

"I think he might. A-N-G-R-Y. Angry. I have to put it in the middle don't I?"

"As long as one of the letters is on the middle square. You think your Dad will get in trouble? Why do you think that? Has he done something he shouldn't have?"

I surveyed the scrabble board. If only you could put words diagonally, I'd get loads of points. I put my letters down carefully.

"Seffy?"

"What?"

"Has your Dad done something he shouldn't have?"

"Everyone's done things they shouldn't have. It's your turn."