After that, we talk about Blake. Shelley wants to know everything that led up to it. She makes notes about the security guard and the make-up and Charity and the head teacher. Then Shelley puts down her pen again when I start talking about the dinosaur blanket. She doesn’t say nothing at all. Then she starts asking me about what I’ve just said, making notes as I’m talking. She even lets me see the notes to check she’s got it right.

My new social worker and Shelley come into the police interview room with me. I ask if I can bring my knitting. Shelley shows the police that the needles are plastic and can’t hurt no one. They can’t find no one to agree. I think they’re scared of getting in trouble if I do something bad. In the end Shelley asks to speak to someone higher up and they allow it. As soon as I sit down, I take out the wool and needles.

Click, click, click.

It’s like my hands have got their own brains and don’t need me to think for them.

Shelley tries to tell the police that I shouldn’t even be given a caution. Do they want to push another Black young person into the criminal justice system? she asks. Shelley says a caution’s gonna go on my record and I might have to mention it in the future. Do they want to ruin my future?

I watch it all going back and forward. The police don’t look impressed.

I knit faster. When they ask me about Blake, I make myself find the words and then keep the words soft even when I want to shout and cry. I tell them about my mum dying and Kandi living with her dad and the blanket I was knitting.

“Blake Morrisey purposely unravelled the present this child was knitting for her young sister,” Shelley says. “It was an act of pure cruelty. And have we forgotten that Blake should not have been in my client’s bedroom in the first place?”

The police nod. I see them glance at my new blanket. One of them says, “You take your knitting seriously, Charlene.”

He doesn’t even say it in a jokey voice. He sounds like he means it. I nod.

Click, click, click.

My blanket’s flowing off my needles and onto the table.

When we come out of the police station, the sky is still blue. It’s all the blues. Shelley shakes my hand and drives away. She said she’ll be here next time.

*

So, what’s gonna happen next? The police are still working out what to do about me kicking the fed. Shelley keeps in touch to keep me up to date. She’s heard that the fed didn’t even get a bruise from my kick. But I still kicked him. There will be punishment.