Time To Play by KA Richardson (free children's ebooks online .txt) 📕

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Ali’s Flat, Sunderland – 17 November

E lvie watched as the minutes ticked over on the clock in the bedroom. Agnes, Ali’s mum, was curled up next to her and was snoring softly. But Elvie couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was going to go wrong.

She knew she’d have to face immigration, and she was struggling with the part of her that wanted to stay here where the people had been so warm and welcoming, and the part that wanted to go back home where everything was familiar. She knew how to act at home, what to say and who to trust.

If they sent her home, her great-aunt would be asked to care for her, and Elvie knew in her heart that that wouldn’t happen. The old crone would just throw her out on the street and expect her to fend for herself. Noni had always told her not to trust her sister, and she’d never given any reason to be trusted, always envious of Noni and the life she’d chosen to lead. If she was chucked out on the street, Elvie didn’t know how she’d survive. She’d had dreams of going to college, one of the big ones in Manila, but if she was sent back it would never happen. She’d have to work to pay her own way.

If she stayed here and was granted asylum, she didn’t really understand what would happen. Agnes had tried to explain that the UK don’t send people back if there’s a danger to their lives, or for various other reasons, but even she didn’t know what would happen if Elvie stayed. And Elvie hadn’t been able to ask Marlo or Ali as they’d both been out at work all day.

She smiled in the dark as she remembered visiting Cass and Alex with Agnes. Their child, Izzy, had stolen her heart. She’d sat quietly while Elvie had haltingly read a fairy tale. The child had sucked her dummy, content that someone was devoting their attention to her. Elvie had had experience babysitting for some of the women back home: it was expected with so many of the women having to work, so when Izzy had fallen asleep, she’d carefully lowered her into the crib. Elvie had stood for ages watching the child’s eyelids flutter, envying her the innocent knowledge that her world was safe enough to keep her in deep slumber.

Elvie had found herself wondering what it would be like to have a little sister, someone who she could care for and look after. And then she’d realised that she couldn’t even take care of herself right now. Everything was so uncertain, and it had been for weeks. She didn’t know if she was coming or going, didn’t know what would happen from one day to the next. And it scared her.

Once again, she was unable to stop the silent tears as they fell from her eyes, defeating her feeble attempts to wipe them away with the back of her hand. For the hundredth time in recent weeks, she wished for someone to tell her it was all OK, longed for her Noni’s comforting touch, and wondered what would happen tomorrow.

As the hands passed 4 a.m. she finally fell into an uneasy sleep.

Marlo’s Flat – 17 November

Ali stirred as Marlo jerked in her sleep beside him. The couch was only normal width, and she was right in front of him so there was no avoiding the sharp jab of her elbow to his ribs. He gasped and raised himself up on one arm, wincing at the force with which she’d hit him.

‘Marlo?’ he asked, touching her arm with his hand.

She didn’t respond, her body twitching as mumbled words escaped from her mouth.

‘No, let me go. It wasn’t my fault. Let me go!’

Her head moved suddenly, the top impacting with his jaw causing his teeth to crash together loudly. Cursing softly, he pulled as far back as the couch would allow.

‘Marlo, wake up,’ he said, more firmly this time, gently shaking her shoulder.

She thrashed again, mumbling incoherently. Whatever she was dreaming about, she was deep asleep. Ali remembered reading somewhere that you were supposed to ease someone out of a nightmare, not just wake them abruptly as it could do – well what it did he couldn’t quite remember, but it did something.

‘Come on now, love, it’s time to wake up,’ he said, rubbing her arm a notch above gentle with his hand. Feeling her gather momentum for another struggle, he had no choice but to pin her with his weight otherwise she’d end up headbutting or elbow-jabbing him again. ‘Marlo, wake up dammit!’ Ali noticed his voice getting louder – how the heck was he supposed to wake her? Slap her face like they used to in the old films? He couldn’t do that.

Suddenly she stilled beneath him, and her eyes opened slowly, still full of remembered pain from her nightmare.

‘Easy sweetheart, it’s just me. You had me worried. You wouldn’t wake up.’ He slid from on top of her to beside and she turned her head towards him.

‘Sorry,’ she said, her eyes downcast and filled with anguish.

‘Wanna tell me about it?’ he asked.

‘I can’t,’ she whispered, glancing up at him.

‘Sure you can, it’s easy. Just open your mouth and let the words fall out. It’ll do you good to open up.’

‘Like you do, you mean?’ she snapped, surprising him. ‘Every time you’re anywhere near the water, you freeze up, stare into space. Your skin goes pale like water’s the worst thing on earth, but that’s not it is it? It’s not just the water. Whatever it is, is what you don’t open up about.’

Her cheeks had flushed red, and Ali realised she’d snapped through self-preservation rather than as a direct dig against him. Besides, she was right. How could he