Every Time a Bell Rings. Carmel HarringtonЧитать онлайн книгу.
it.
It seems to satisfy her, because she stops staring at me in the rear-view mirror and returns her eyes to the road in front of us.
What do you think Dee-Dee? Will this home be a forever one? Dee-Dee always tells me the truth. I think she’s the only person in the whole world who does.
She looks at me with her big brown eyes and says, ‘Well, Joan and Daniel’s house was supposed to be a forever home too.’
True, in fact Mrs O’Reilly has said that very same line to me loads of times now.
As always, whenever I think of Joan and Daniel, I feel scared all over again. All I want to do is go back to Dun Laoghaire, back to that house I’ve lived in for the past few years. Problem is, Joan and Daniel are not there any more. The house is for sale and locked up. My old foster parents are now somewhere called the Silicone Valley. I don’t know where that is, but I know it must be far away, because they had to go on an aeroplane to get there.
Why did they have to leave me behind, Dee-Dee? My stomach starts to flip.
Dee-Dee looks at me with her big sad eyes and I know what she’s thinking.
Everyone leaves. In the end, they all leave me behind.
‘It’s just you and me, kiddo, stick with me and we’ll be fine,’ Dee-Dee says.
I kiss her forehead and nod. Yes, we’ll be just fine.
Mrs Reilly starts to chatter on about how much fun I’m going to have in this new house in Drumcondra. It will be a new adventure, she keeps saying. And even though I don’t need to go on an aeroplane to get to this new place, I know it’s a long way away from everything I know.
‘Tess, your new foster mum, has been fostering for over thirty years. She has a room ready for you. All to yourself, too. Won’t that be nice? And you can walk to your new school every day, just like you did at Joan and Daniel’s.’ She smiles in the rear-view mirror.
I look at her eyes. The smile doesn’t reach them. Whenever people smile at me, I check out to see if the eyes crinkle up at the corners. I know it’s a real smile if that happens. I’ve noticed that there are a lot of people who fake-smile all the time. Mrs Reilly is a prime example.
The car stops and starts in splutters as she hits the usual rush-hour traffic. I feel a little bit sick, so I decide I’d better close my eyes in an attempt to stop the nausea.
‘It’s almost the Christmas holidays, so we all agree that it’s best you start your new school in January. That gives you a few weeks to settle in. New Year, new beginning. I think that’s best all round. Isn’t that exciting? You’ll love it there, trust me, you wait and see,’ she states in that high, strangled voice of hers.
Thing is, I don’t trust her. I’m only eight years old, but I already know that it’s safer if you don’t trust anyone. People lie all the time.
Dee-Dee nods in total agreement.
‘The traffic is heavy this evening,’ Mrs Reilly complains, looking at her watch.
I wipe the condensation from the car window and peek outside. We’re not moving, we’ve stopped at another red light. I know that it has to change to green to move. I learnt that in school. I can’t remember what amber means, that one always confuses me. Is it prepare to go or prepare to stop?
Oh, here we go again. We move forward a little bit, but just as quickly we’re at a standstill again.
As my stomach heaves, Dee-Dee says, ‘You better not get sick in Mrs Reilly’s car.’ I feel a little bit of vomit jump into my throat and my stomach flips again. Mrs Reilly will get so cross if I get sick. She might change her mind and not take us to this new house. And then where will we go?
I try to think of something else, anything, to take my mind off the possibility of being sick.
A red car inches up beside us and to distract myself, I count the people in it. One, two, three, four. Easy. I’m good at counting. I can count to one thousand and twenty-nine. I’m sure I could have passed two thousand, but I got distracted and lost my spot. Maybe I’ll try beat my record now.
A little girl stares at me through her car window and waves. I wave back and look at her family properly. At least, I think they must be a family. The daddy is driving the car and the mammy is beside him, but she’s looking back at her two children, a boy and a girl. And whatever the mammy is saying to them, they are all laughing.
I look at the mammy’s face. It’s soft and joyful and happy.
Why are you so stupid? Get out of my fucking way, you little brat.
Tears spring into my eyes as a memory pierces through my thoughts. I feel a pain in my side. It hurts like a stitch when I run too fast in the park. I blow on the window to make it steamy again, so that I can erase that happy, smiling family away.
I don’t feel much like counting any more.
‘Don’t cry,’ Dee-Dee tells me when she sees that I’m getting upset. ‘The grown-ups get cross when you cry.’
I sigh, pinch myself and look back down again, stroking Dee-Dee’s hair.
‘What are you getting from Santa this year?’ Mrs Reilly asks me, making me jump.
I shrug. Who cares? I mean, Santa won’t even know where I live. For the past two years he came to Joan and Daniel’s. And before that, well, I don’t think he came at all.
‘Santa is magic, he’ll find you,’ Dee-Dee reassures me. ‘Remember that.’ I kiss her head. She always knows what to say to me to make me feel better.
‘Now, let’s try to find a parking spot,’ Mrs Reilly says. We’re on a street with red-bricked houses on either side. It’s almost dark and the big trees are making shadows on the path. Some windows are already filled with Christmas trees, and fairy lights twinkle on the driveways.
‘Look, Belle, see that lovely red door? That’s your new house.’ Mrs Reilly points to the other side of the road.
There’s no Christmas tree in the window.
The house in front of us, well, it looks dark and menacing and I don’t think I’m going to like it here.
‘Remember you’re not to cry,’ Dee-Dee warns again, as we walk up the drive towards the door. When Mrs Reilly rings the doorbell, I hold my breath and Dee-Dee even tighter, as I watch a shadow coming towards the door, through the opaque glass panels.
‘You’re shivering,’ Mrs Reilly says, pulling me in close to her. ‘You’ll be inside soon, nice and warm.’
The door opens and I gasp and take a step backwards. Standing right in front of us is the big bad wolf dressed in a really bright-yellow dress.
The wolf looks like she’s ready to eat me.
‘She’s fat,’ Dee-Dee says.
That’s not nice, I admonish her. She always says it like it is. Thing is, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone that size before.
‘She’s probably so fat because of all the children she eats,’ Dee-Dee continues.
That’s not helpful, Dee-Dee, and I look back towards Mrs Reilly’s car and wonder if I should make a run for it now.
But before I get the chance to make my getaway, the wolf smiles at me and I can see that she doesn’t have any fangs at all. Just slightly yellow teeth. And even Dee-Dee has to agree that she looks happy to see me as she ushers me in, telling me she has lots of treats waiting.
‘This could be okay,’ Dee-Dee says agreeably. We both like treats.
I sit down at a long rectangular kitchen table, which is covered in a bright-orange and red-patterned oil-skin tablecloth. The lady, Tess, has placed a glass of milk and some Penguin bars in front of me.
‘Tuck into