I wasn’t sure of the way, so I took long walks on the shore instead.
Mrs. Mac ignored me most of the time, so I stopped trying to sit on her knee. She thought I had my father’s eyes and she didn’t like him anymore, so she must not like me, either. Sometimes she tried to be nice, but even when she spoke to me she never looked into my eyes. I searched for my lump of crossness when she did that, to hide the ache inside me that wouldn’t go away.
One day I heard her talking to Mr. Mac.
“The authorities will have to take her,” she said. “I can’t go on like this.”
That was when I decided to go and ask Ted if I could live with him.
A narrow lane led along the shore to our row of cottages, so close to the sea that in high tide the water lapped right up to it. Ted’s house was at the other end, higher up on a rocky incline. It was small and white with twinkling windows—a clean and friendly house, I thought, as I walked quickly toward its neat red door.
A slim blonde woman answered my knock. I had seen her before in the village with Ted, and she was at Daffyd’s funeral. Mrs. Mac called her “the city girl.” I don’t think she liked her very much.
“Hello,” she said in a high, bright voice. “I’m Victoria. How can I help you?”
My heart beat hard inside my chest.
“Is Ted here?”
Her face darkened and a shadow came into her pale eyes. “Ted’s busy, I’m afraid, Elsa.”
I stared at the floor, squirming as I realized that I was wearing mismatched shoes. I had forgotten that Ted had someone.
“I know Ted’s been watching out for you, but...well...”
Her eyes were kind but her whole body was tight and her mouth was a thin line.
“Look, dear...” Her words died out as his huge shape appeared behind her, towering over her slight frame. Now, I thought with a lurch of joy, everything would be all right.
“Come inside, lass,” he urged, but there was worry in his eyes, and he kept glancing down at Victoria’s smooth blond head as if he was afraid of her. That was a silly idea. How could anyone so big be afraid of someone so small?
She took hold of my arm—I wanted to pull away but I didn’t—and made me sit down on a sofa that was much too big for the cramped room. It was pale cream with pink flowers all over, and I’m sure it would have been soft and comfy if it hadn’t been covered in plastic.
“Would you like some lemonade?” she asked.
I shook my head and gritted my teeth, trying to say the words I had rehearsed. They wouldn’t come, though, so I sat quietly, twisting my feet together to hide my shoes.
Ted wasn’t like himself; he looked sad and distant.
Please don’t let him change, too, I said to myself, searching deep down for my lump of crossness so I wouldn’t cry. Why didn’t she go away and let me talk to Ted by myself?
“Ted,” she ordered, “come and help me make some tea.” Her voice was brittle, like a thin piece of glass. Then she turned to me with a bright, empty smile. “Are you sure you won’t have some lemonade, Elsa? Or we have orange juice?”
Ted grinned uneasily as he followed Victoria out of the room, but I just frowned.
I could hear their voices through a crack in the door. I pressed my ear up close to listen.
“You’ll have to tell her, Ted.”
Victoria spoke in the hushed whisper that all adults used when they didn’t want kids to hear, so I listened even harder, knowing they were about to say something bad.
“But what will she do? She has no one,” Ted argued. “She relies on me.”
“That’s not the point. The longer you leave it, the worse it’ll get and the more she’ll depend on you. She’ll be wanting to come live with us next.”
“Well...I suppose...”
Ted’s voice was wavering and I knew all was lost. It seemed that it was possible for a small person to be the boss of a big one after all. My crossness hardened into something sharp and painful.
“She needs proper care by people who know what they’re doing. Anyone can see the poor kid has problems. Frankly, I’m not surprised, living all alone with that Mad Mick Malone. The authorities will—”
I burst through the door, letting it bang against the wall, screaming as loudly as I could, so loudly that Ted’s face went white. Victoria gave him an “I told you so” look and pursed her lips. She reached out to grab me, but I broke free, sprinting from the house into the lonely comfort of the bay.
It was easy to get away from Ted—by the time he’d put on his shoes I was already way out along the shingle beach. I didn’t walk onto the sand, even though I really wanted to, because that would have left footprints for them to follow. I found a place behind an old wooden jetty where no one could see me.
If they sent me away from this place, I suddenly realized, there would never be any footprints to follow again. So if my dad came back, how could he ever find me? I would just lie down here on the shore, I decided, and go to sleep forever and ever. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my face into the sand.
I heard Ted’s feet running and I heard him shout but I ignored him, digging into the sand, listening to the seagulls and trying not to cry. When I opened my eyes again, a huge black-headed gull had landed close by, staring at me with beady yellow eyes. It stepped cautiously toward me, head leaning to one side, beak half-open.
“They want to send me away, bird,” I whispered.
It took a step closer and I reached out my hand.
“There you are,” Ted shouted.
The seagull, my friend, flapped its wings and flew off, and the crossness took over. I screamed and started to run, but Ted pinned me down.
“There, there, lass,” he murmured. “Let it all out.”
We sat like that for a very long time, until all my sobs were cried out. When they turned into whimpers and my tears dried, he tilted my chin and looked into my eyes.
“All everyone wants is the best for you, Elsa.”
I knew that wasn’t true. Mrs. Mac didn’t, and even if Ted did, Victoria wouldn’t let him.
“You have to be with people who can look after you properly,” he told me in a gentle voice.
“But when my dad comes back...” I began.
He shook his head slowly. “I’m sorry, Elsa, but they’ve found him. I’m afraid your dad will never come back to you now.”
CHAPTER FIVE
EIGHT-YEAR-OLD BRYN SNIFFED loudly and ran his nose across his sleeve, looking cautiously
