Lost Souls by Jenny O'Brien (android e book reader txt) 📕

his reason for deserting the family home. It wasn’t anything to do with his mother, not really. The truth was that he blamed himself for everything that had gone before. If only he’d tried harder at school, tried to fit in, he wouldn’t have been targeted, taking away his dad’s motive for that first attack.

Oddly enough finding Ellie had helped him reach acceptance, something that he wasn’t proud of. The idea of a ten-year-old girl having an effect on him was ludicrous but while he was worrying about her, he didn’t have any spare time to worry about himself – that made a strange sort of sense.

The clattering continued and, with a groan, he twisted onto his knees and levered up to his full height, one hand using the mattress for support, the other massaging the back of his neck where the biggest creak had decided to take up residence. He had no idea what she was up to but he’d best find out; after all, he was the only adult present. What a thought!

‘Breakfast.’

He eyed the kitchen table, his heart tightening at the effort she’d gone to. His grandmother’s moss-green dishes with the fluted edges, the same ones he’d eaten countless bowls of cereal from. The glasses filled with water. The spoons polished to a high sheen. She’d even managed to find a packet of cornflakes, the open cupboards evidence of her search and probably the reason for all that clattering and banging.

‘Good for you. Well done,’ he said, trying not to think about the expiry date on the packet or whether she’d had the sense to rinse the bowls under the tap before pouring the flakes into the bottom. There were probably worse things to die from than stale cereal, he thought, silently congratulating himself on remembering to buy a tin of powdered milk at the newsagent yesterday. Kids required calcium but there was no way that he could provide fresh milk for her, not that he intended to stay in the farmhouse for much longer. It was the first of the two decisions he’d made while he’d witnessed her meltdown. He had to find the courage from somewhere to carry out his plan. His age and purported wisdom should be more than a match for her obstinacy. His gaze rested on the stubborn tilt of her chin. She was as determined not to go back and face her fears as he was determined to make her.

‘Have you washed your hands? How about you pop to the bathroom while I check through the rest of the cupboards to see if I can find something for us to drink other than water.’ He turned away, listening to her fading footsteps as she strolled at a snail’s pace down the hall. It looked like she wasn’t going to mention last night, he mused, finding a box of unopened teabags in the back of the cupboard that were three months out of date and, using the tip of his fingernail, he broke the seal. He’d heard about the resilience of children from that child psychologist they’d made him go to see, along with his brothers, but he never would have believed it if he hadn’t witnessed it for himself. Unless she’d forgotten all about the nightmare, something he couldn’t imagine for a second.

His hand stilled, the box of teabags raised to right under his nose as he tried to decide whether they were okay to use or not but all he could smell was … tea. No. She remembered, all right. He’d brought her to a place of safety, providing the one thing she needed. Now he wanted to know why – the second of the two decisions he’d made earlier.

Within five minutes they were both sitting around the table, Ellie’s legs tapping the bar of her chair as she relentlessly spooned in cornflakes, the sight of milk dribbling down her chin causing him to hide a smile. Apart from the hair, which was a raggedy mess, she reminded him of his younger brother even down to the untied shoelaces and grubby T-shirt – the fact that she was dressed in his brother’s clothes only added weight to the thought.

What he wouldn’t give to be at home right now, his brothers squabbling over whatever computer game they were playing, his mother silent and pale as she carried out the usual morning chores somewhere in the vicinity of the sink. He had to make amends to her; he’d known that for quite a while. The breakdown of their family unit hadn’t been her fault but at the time he’d felt an unnecessary childish urge to blame somebody and she was the only one there. His father, the man he’d loved unreservedly, was too far out of his reach, his love and trust only a distant, bitter memory.

He returned his mug onto the coaster she’d found, pushing it slightly so that it was well away from the edge. He folded his arms in front of him as he leant forward. Their bowls were empty just like his mind but he had to start the conversation off somehow.

‘How did you sleep after that … dream?’

‘Fine.’

‘Really! That’s all you’re going to say after nearly scaring the living daylights out of me?’

She clattered her spoon against the rim of the bowl. ‘I said I’m fine.’

So fine that you burst into hysterics at some stupid nightmare!

‘Okay, fine! We do need to talk about why we’re here and what we’re going to do next, Ellie. You do realise that staying long term isn’t an option? The police are probably scouring the whole of North Wales and it won’t take long for somebody to put two and two together and come up with four.’

‘I can’t talk about it. I just can’t.’ He watched as she squeezed her hands into tight fists, her neck taut, a little pulse throbbing under the skin in rapid succession. She looked scared, terrified even, and he knew he had to be careful or she