when you apologize for showing it to the younger children.”
“So you’re not giving it back?” I challenged.
“You could be here for a day or ten years,” Tony said. “You have to learn boundaries, Naomi. Learn what is acceptable and what isn’t.”
I turned my back on Tony and stomped along the hallway. I turned into Tony and Colleen’s bedroom. They had DVD box sets on a shelf opposite their bed. I swiped 24, the Hobbit trilogy, and a load of others. I dropped a couple on the floor as I hotfooted out. Tony was still in the hallway. Colleen trotted up the stairs.
“She was showing a horror film to the kids,” Tony snitched.
Colleen gave me a why did I decide to be a foster carer look while Tony shook his head. “She has to learn boundaries,” he repeated. “Even if she’s here for just one night.”
I brushed by them and entered my bedroom. “You’ve got something of mine and I’ve got something of yours. And you’re not getting squiddly jack back till I get what’s mine.”
I slammed the door behind me. The doorframe vibrated and I crashed onto my bed. I found my meerkat and hugged it well tight.
* * *
Some minutes later, someone tickled my door.
“It’s me, Colleen . . . can we talk?”
“No.”
“We do have rules, Naomi.”
“So?”
“And they must be kept. We can’t allow Sharyna and Pablo to watch horror films. They’re not as . . . grown up as you. They have had different experiences from you. Can’t you understand that? We don’t want them to have nightmares.”
I understood. But he jacked my property.
“Tell him to give back my DVD!” I shouted.
“You’ll get it back when we both feel you’ve learned your lesson,” said Colleen.
They aren’t giving an inch. By now the Holmans woulda made me a snack, brewed me a sweet coffee, and given me funds to buy a brand-new DVD. All with a toothpaste-commercial smile.
“And he’ll get his stuff back when he learns his lesson,” I spat.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” said Colleen.
“Not talking to him,” I replied.
“I really don’t want to argue with you, Naomi,” Tony said, coming up after Colleen. “But rules are rules.”
“Good night,” said Colleen.
“Good night,” repeated Tony.
“Good night, Nomi,” Pablo called from the hallway.
Too cute.
I sat on my bed with my knees tight against my chest. I rocked to and fro, my eyes closed. I must’ve been doing that for half an hour till I got bored.
“Tony, you’re a dickhead,” I whispered. “A stupid frucking super-duper dickhead.”
I closed my eyes.
I was in charge when I looked after my dad. I could go to bed what time I liked. Watch what I loved. Do what I wanted. Now social workers and strangers are telling me what to do.
chapter five
A New Collection
I didn’t roll out of bed till Pablo, Sharyna, and Tony had all left the house. When I heard Tony’s truck drive away, I pulled the curtains open. The morning sun forced me to scrunch up my eyes. I looked out into the back garden and heard this annoying bird tweet-a-tweeting nearby. There was a mini-size goal toward the back of the garden beside the shed. An orange ball sat in the corner of the net. A neatly shaved rectangle of grass was surrounded on three sides by flowers and plants. The steps from the back door led to a small pond shaped like the number eight. Very neat. Louise said Prickhead’s a landscape gardener or something. At least he’s top-rated at his nine-to-five. I couldn’t even remember what was at the back of my old flat—never landed a toe out there.
I checked out the DVDs that I had jacked from Tony’s bedroom that were scattered on the floor. I picked them all up, sat down on my bed, and went through them. The Shawshank Redemption, The Magnificent Seven, The Sting, Some Like It Hot, Saturday Night Fever, Sarafina!, Babylon, Burning an Illusion. Monkey on ropes, hasn’t he got anything from this side of the millennium?
I decided to look for Colleen. Carrying the DVDs, I went out into the hallway. I skipped downstairs and heard the sound of a washing machine. The noise came from the basement.
I opened the creaking door and went down a short flight of steps. I could sniff dried mud, grass, oil, and washing powder. The air felt damp. I remembered something from my past. It chilled my blood cells. You don’t have to go in there again, Naomi. It was Dad’s voice. I can see it’s traumatizing you. If you want, I can fill a bowl with warm water for you and you can have your wash in your bedroom. You can always have your wash in there if you like.
I shook my head and the memory bubble burst.
One side of the basement floor had a world of machine and gardening tools stacked in it. I spotted a broken wheelbarrow in a corner.
Colleen was busy separating the colors from the whites when she noticed me. She was wearing her red, gold, and green headscarf. Pink monster-faced slippers snoogled her feet.
“Oh, you scared me,” Colleen chuckled. “Do you want your breakfast now?”
“I’ll make it,” I replied.
Colleen glanced at the DVDs in my hands. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah, better than the night before.”
“What would you like for your breakfast?”
“I’d like bacon and scrambled eggs.”
“Gimme a couple of secs and I’ll put—”
“I can make it myself,” I cut her flow.
“I’m sure you can.”
“I always cooked breakfast for Dad,” I said. “That’s if there was any breakfast to fry.” I turned to climb upstairs. “I almost forgot.” I handed over the DVDs. “Here, you can have ’em back. There’s nothing there that’ll tickle my like cells. It’s all ancient . . . Sorry for last night.”
“Thank you, Naomi. The reason why—”
Before Colleen could finish her sentence, I had turned around and made my way up the stairs. I didn’t wanna offend but I wasn’t up for a lecture at that time of the
