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Back When I Was Ten Save as PDF
Chapters (79)
  1. Cover
  2. WHEN I WAS TEN
  3. Dedication page
  4. Epigraph page
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. PART ONE
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. PART TWO
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. PART THREE
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. 58
  67. 59
  68. 60
  69. 61
  70. 62
  71. 63
  72. 64
  73. 65
  74. 66
  75. 67
  76. 68
  77. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  78. WHEN I WAS TEN
  79. Also by Fiona Cummins

Maureen Connolly is watching us. At one point, she rolls her eyes. A rush of hatred boils up inside me. Maureen Connolly with her stupid face and dark curls. My mother has no curls left, just a fuzz that barely covers the pale contours of her skull.

My father puts both hands on my shoulders and propels me towards the door.

‘Off you go now. Maureen and I need to have an adult conversation.’

His tone is clipped, boxed-off. No room for argument. No room for me.

I’d like to say I drift from the room with all the dignity of Princess Diana, but I don’t. I tut loudly and slam the door, but not before I catch a glimpse of the smile on Maureen Connolly’s face.

It says: I win.

I grab my coat from the bannister and tie up the laces of my trainers. Then I run back to the kitchen, lift the dish of fish pie off the table and drop it into the bin.

28

The car filled with the noise of silence.

Shannon stared out of the window, hands folded in her lap, watching the fields flash by. Spring was everywhere, in the pastel streaks of sky and the hedgerows anointed with blousy flowers. The car twisted down the narrow country lane that led back to the village, past the pond and the church and the Hope and Anchor pub to the rolling greenery of Saltbox Hill and beyond.

Shannon had not spoken a word since their mother had frogmarched her out of the changing room, Sara scurrying behind them, weighted down with coats and ballet cases. Sara disliked ballet so much she hadn’t minded missing her class, but the look of triumph on Acne Girl’s face as she’d gathered up their things had still felt like a stab in the back.

Mrs Carter’s hands gripped the steering wheel. She pressed her lips together until they were thin and bloodless. Sara could almost see the anger pulsing from her mother, like heat shimmer on summer days, but Shannon was lost in the landscape blurring the car window.

‘Shall we go over to Brinley’s when we get home?’ Sara looked hopefully at her sister. Even though they were all friends, Shannon could be possessive and considered Brinley hers.

Shannon kept her eyes on the view outside, but at least she answered. ‘If she’s in.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Mrs Carter, although it was clear from her tone there was no ‘thinking’ about it. ‘You’re not going anywhere, my girl.’

‘It wasn’t my fault!’ The words sprayed from Shannon, a broken pipe that could no longer contain the leak. ‘They started it.’

‘Really?’ Mrs Carter’s reply was coated in scepticism.

‘Why don’t you ever believe me? Why can’t you, just for once, be on my side?’