‘So what happens now?’ Mrs Roberts gabbles. ‘Can Anna come home with us?’ She directs that pleading look she gave me a few minutes ago at Ellie. ‘We’ve been so patient – like you asked us to be. Her room’s still the same as it was, ready for her – we don’t let anyone else use it – but she can decorate it exactly how she likes, and I can find out about where she could go to school – she could probably go to the same school as Jesse did – what year should she be in? Could she start school in September?’ She pauses. ‘You can read, can’t you, Anna? Did anyone teach you?’ Her hand flies to her mouth again. ‘Oh God, what has he done to you? Did he … hurt you? Oh God, he didn’t hurt you, did he? I’d never forgive myself if …’ She starts bawling again and crumples into her son.

I shift uncomfortably in my chair again. I don’t know exactly what I expected from this meeting, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t this. My face feels hot and my mouth is filling with saliva.

‘I’m feeling a bit …’ I mumble, but no one seems to pay any attention. I pull the sweatshirt off over my head, not caring that the manky greying T-shirt underneath is ugly and too small for me. I wipe my hand across my forehead, which is prickling with a cold sweat.

‘As I said before, whatever happens now, it all has to happen slowly. Nothing will be decided today,’ Ellie says, using that slow, patronizing tone again. ‘This meeting has been very emotional for everyone. You and Jesse need to go home and think about how you feel, discuss it between yourselves, and we need to talk to Laura about what her options are.’

‘But we can have her back, can’t we?’ Mrs Roberts shrieks hysterically.

My head is spinning. ‘I really need to …’ I say a little louder.

‘Again, we all need to go away and reflect and work out what’s best for Laura,’ Ellie repeats. ‘For the short term—’

‘You can’t keep my baby away from me now she’s back!’ Mrs Roberts screams. ‘You can’t! I need to call a solicitor or—’

‘We’re not saying we’re going to keep her away from you, just that we need to—’

Nausea rises through me and I stand up. ‘I think I’m going to be …’ I mumble, stumbling towards the bathroom, but my legs collapse under me, my stomach spasms and, Mrs Roberts’ screams still ringing in my ears, I throw up on the floor.

20

July 2013

Inverness