Drake (Foster Bros #3)

Chapter 1

My hand is hurting from banging on the door. No one has come to let me in; there’s always someone around to hear me knocking. “Mum, Mum, open the door. MUM!” Why hasn’t she answered?

“They’ve gone, sweetheart,” a voice behind me says.

I whirl around to see the old lady who lives across the road from the house we’ve been staying in, squatting in.

I’ve only been gone a little while, a trip to the library to do some homework.

Wherever we live, Mum always gets me into school, not that I always go.

Sometimes I bunk off if my clothes are too dirty or there isn’t any water for me to wash.

This place is better with running water and everything, so school has been okay.

“No, they can’t have. My mum wouldn’t go without me,” I say defiantly, even as my throat goes dry, and my stomach drops with the weight of possibility that she might’ve.

Her new boyfriend doesn’t like me, not that he shows it when she’s around, but a slap and a punch is a frequent thing when she’s not with me.

“Oh, dear boy, they all left. It must’ve been a hurry, because they didn’t even shut the door. The police turned up only minutes after.” The pity in her eyes has mine smarting as the threat of tears burns them.

“What about me? Did she say anything?” The boyfriend—Warrior, the stupid name he calls himself, would threaten to leave me if I didn’t behave and do as he said.

Normally, it would be stealing things from the shops.

I hated it, but he’d start his threats again about handing me over to the authorities.

Once he said he’d burn my books and clothes, even started that one until I agreed.

“I don’t know what to do.” A tear slipped free as reality hit me.

“Come with me, duckling. I know someone I can call; he’s a good man. He’ll know what to do.” She takes my hand in her gnarled one; it has brown spots on the wrinkly skin, but her touch is soft, and her smile is kind as we cross the road.

As soon as we’re inside her home, I stare at the all the knick-knacks she has on every surface.

Most of them are photo frames, some so tiny they only have a face in.

There are China cats and dogs everywhere.

It smells good in here, like cake and clean washing.

I’m embarrassed by my scruffy clothes. I don’t think I smell nice, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Come into the kitchen; I’m sure you’re hungry. I remember my boys eating everything I put down for them,” she chuckles, and it’s comforting. I’m not so scared of what’s going to happen. She’s not going to be mean, I don’t think.

I’ve got a glass of milk and a ham sandwich on a pretty plate that has tiny blue flowers on it.

She leaves me sitting at the little table that only has one other chair with it.

I can hear her voice, but not the words.

Maybe I’m too busy shovelling the tasty food in my mouth to bother listening. She says I can have another one too.

“That’s all done,” she says but doesn’t tell me what’s done. “Good grief, boy, you must have hollow legs.”

A blush spreads up my neck to heat up my face. I swallow hard. “I’m sorry; it was very tasty, the best sandwich I’ve ever had.”

“Then I’d better make you another one and maybe a piece of cake for after. My friend Robin will be here soon, and he never says no to a piece of my Victoria sponge.”

I listen to her talk about her children as she fusses around the immaculate room. I forget why I’m here until the door opens, and a man’s voice calls out to her.

“Ah, that’ll be Robin.”

I try to swallow the last bite of the cake, but it’s lodged in my throat as fear grips me.

This is the man she said can help me. Does that mean he’s going to help me find my mum, or is he going to give me to the police.

Or foster care. I’ve heard plenty of threats from Warrior about what would happen to boys like me if I went into care.

I never understood what he meant by ‘boys like me’; he would just laugh and call me a bender in the making.

When they both walk in the kitchen, the man looks at me and smiles. “Hi, I’m Robin. Mrs Moore says you’re in a bit of a pickle.”

“I’m not going with you. You can’t make me,” I say, ready to run past him and out of the house. My hands form tight fists. I know I’m small for my age and skinny, too, but I’ll fight him if I have to.

“It’s okay. I’m not from the police. Can you tell me what’s happened?”

“I dunno, just got home.” I know I’m being naughty, but I want my mum.

“Drake, be nice, please. Robin is here to help you. Tell him about your day,” Mrs Moore says.

“Fine,” I huff, then run through going to the library to do my homework, how it’s the best place because it’s quiet, and I can look at all the books to find the answers.

How it can be too noisy in the house with my mum because of all the people.

I don’t mention the drugs being taken nearly all day every day by some of them.

Or how I’m told to lie down and close my eyes when people have sex or stick needles in their arms. “She must be really worried about me. I don’t want to go anywhere else; she’ll be back for me soon. ”

“How about you come to my house, and Mrs Moore can call me as soon as she sees your mum. I’m sure she’ll wait here until I can bring you back. But, just in case she doesn’t make it today, you’ve got somewhere to stay overnight. You’re safe with me; I’m a registered foster parent.”

I’m up and out of the chair so fast it crashes to the floor. Warrior’s words flood my mind. “No, no way. You people aren’t safe. You’ll hurt me or want to have sex with me.”

“Good gracious, duckling, where did you get that idea from. Robin is a lovely man, one of the best and kindest I know. Would I let you go with someone I didn’t trust?

Of course not. I’ll put the kettle on and have some tea and a bit more cake.

We can wait together for a little while, to see if your mum comes for you. ”

By the time we’d all had more to eat, and Robin talked about some of the other children he’s helped before they went back to their parents, it’s dark. And she hasn’t come back for me. Mrs Moore hugs me as I step out of her front door. “You come and see me again, young Drake.”

I nod, but my gaze is not on her. It’s on the squat.

The place I’d lived for the last ten months.

“Why would she leave me?” I ask Robin as he starts the engine of his car.

My throat hurts as I try to swallow back the sob.

“She’s always waited for me. When the police come, she always hides so she can find me. ”

“Do you know where they could’ve moved to? If they left before the police came, then they must have had a plan.”

I shake my head. “No, that sort of thing is a secret. Warrior would get angry if anyone talked about it. He said it was up to him to know where we were going. He doesn’t like me.

He says I am a nuisance that does nothing but cause trouble, and they were better off without me.

He keeps telling Mum to drop me off at the police station. ”

“Fuck!” Robin hisses under his breath. It’s a word I’ve heard a million times before, along with every other swear word around.

I probably know more about sex than other thirteen-year-olds.

I’ve seen a lot being done too. However much Mum tries to shelter me, it is obvious what’s going on.

She was young when she had me, like fifteen or something, so she looks more like a big sister to other people.

I hate her latest boyfriend. He’s about her age but thinks he so wise and smart.

I can see through him, and I know he’s the one who has caused all this to happen and why Mum hasn’t come back for me yet.

I think she’ll have to wait until Warrior is asleep or too stoned to notice her leave, but she’ll find me.

I know she will. She tells me I’m her greatest gift, that she wouldn’t swap having me for the world. She’s the best mum ever.

“Will you help me find her? She’ll be really worried.”

Robin glances from the road to me, his smile a sad one.

“I think the police will be the best place to start. But not tonight. You could do with a good night’s sleep.

I hope you like my house; we only have one other boy with us at the moment.

His name is Saint, and he’s fifteen, and he’s very kind.

My husband, Kip, should be home by now; he owns the gym in town.

He runs lots of fun classes you might want to join. ”

I know the police is the last place I’ll go to find Mum. I’ll go back to the house. She could be there now. I’ll have to wait until everyone is in bed before I can get out. We are quite a long way from the squat, but I can run. I’m the fastest in my class.

The shower really is a nice one, the water as hot as I want it.

Not like the one at the house. I always had to rush that one so that the others could use it.

Warrior always takes as long as he wanted, just like he took the most food.

I wait by the door for Robin to go downstairs, then shove my clothes back on, not caring if I’m still a bit damp and the clothes are clinging.

I need to get out of here before he misses me.

I didn’t know anyone else was here, but them talking makes it easier for me to sneak out of the house.

I’m down the street as fast as I can, not stopping to catch my breath until I’m over three streets away.

When I stop, I’m breathing heavily. Along with a little fear, the rush of getting away—as well as how fast I ran—is the reason.

I’m not scared of being out at night. I’ve been allowed to do what I want and go where I want for a long time now.

Part of life’s rich experiences, my mum would tell me.

Sometimes, people came with their children, and we’d do whatever we wanted.

They never stayed long, a few weeks or so.