August 2004

Harvey told me to be quiet.

I scrunch my knees into my chest; the coats flap in my face. I imagine I'm standing on a stage, waiting for the curtain to lift. A piece of fluffy string catches in my mouth; I spit it out. I’m sitting on top of my pink shoes, squashing them. My heart pounds. I think of Lucy, finding her way into Narnia, peeking through the wardrobe, the excitement on her face when she sees all the snow. I imagine tea with Mr Tumnus; perhaps Harvey wants to play a game, he’s Edmund and I’m Lucy. Harvey hasn’t played with me in a long time. Harvey told me to climb into the wardrobe; stay still, he said; be a good girl, or the monsters will get you. Harvey got out of bed too early. He’ll be told off if he goes downstairs and I know he went downstairs, I saw him. A loud noise makes me jump, like the sound foxes make in the dark. I think of the White Witch, cackling with laughter; I hold my hands over my ears. I don’t like the noise. I must not cry. Something warm and wet trickles down my leg. I must stay here. Mummy’s shouting.

‘Stop, Harvey! Stop.’

I grip the coat; another cry makes me tremble all over. Mummy’s silent. The door of the wardrobe is open. I peek out, and stare at the moonlight spilling onto the bed, the sheets all ruffled and crumpled. Mummy will moan at me for messing up the sheets. I spot Polo, still on the bed; I left him behind. I want him. I want to hold him tight, he’ll make everything alright. His pebble black eyes stare back at me. There’s no sound, Mummy doesn’t shout again. I could creep out of the wardrobe; I could be quick, silent. Silent as a mouse.

Footsteps. They’re heavy on the stairs. Thump, thump, thump. They get closer. A door creaks. I’m scared, I’m really scared. I lean my back against the wardrobe, it hurts. I want to get out, but I must stay here. Think of Mr Tumnus, think of eating sardines with Lucy. I must not make a sound.

‘Hey, hey, it’s OK.’ There’s a voice. It’s Harvey, my brother, my best friend. I don’t move. He’s peeking at me, through the gap in the wardrobe. There’s a dark red stain on his shirt, and there’s a funny, yucky smell. I don’t like it. He smiles. He wants me to come out. I want Mummy, I don’t want Harvey; I start to cry. ‘It’s OK, I’m here,’ he says.

The door creaks. I slide out, Harvey’s smiling at me.

‘I want Mummy,’ I say, clutching my pyjama top tight. ‘I want Daddy.’

‘You’re going to need to be brave,’ Harvey says. ‘After tonight, you’ll have a new family. They’re going to love you; they’ll be kind to you. They’ll let you have pizza every night for tea, imagine that.’

I shake my head. ‘Want to stay with you,’ I say.

‘You can’t, I’m going to have to go away for a while. Forget about Mummy and Daddy.’

Harvey’s scaring me, I cry harder. Where’s Mummy? Where’s Daddy?