“Your mum’s here to pick you upget your things ready.”
Every child in care supposedly longs to hear those words. But Sophie flinched as if slapped.
“Come on, hurry up. Why are you just sitting there?”
Elena Watkins watched her, baffled. Life in a children’s home wasn’t exactly a picnickids had run away to the streets for less. Yet here was Sophie, being handed back her old life, and she wasnt even happy about it.
“I dont want to go,” Sophie muttered, turning to the window. Her best mate, Lily, shot her a sideways glance but stayed quiet. She didnt understand it either. Lily wouldve given anything to go homeif anyone had wanted her there.
“Sophie, whats wrong?” Elena pressed. “Your mums waiting for you.”
“I dont want to see her. And I dont want to go back.”
The other girls listened, intrigued, until Elena decided this wasnt a conversation for an audience.
“Come with me.”
She led Sophie into an office and gave her a sympathetic look.
“Your mums made mistakes, yes. But shes trying. They wouldnt let her take you otherwise.”
“Think this is the first time?” Sophie scoffed, shaking her head. “Ive been in care twice. Last time she took me back, she pretended shed changedhid the bottles, cleaned up, even got a job. When social services checked, everything looked fine. Then they left, and she went right back to it. The only reason she wants me is the benefits.”
“Sophie, I cant change that. And surely home is better than”
“Better?” Sophies voice cracked. “Do you know what its like to go hungry? Or wear trainers full of holes in freezing weather? Or lock yourself in your room praying your mums drunk mates dont come in? Why wont they just take her rights away?”
Tears pricked her eyes. The home wasnt perfect, but here, she ate. Here, she was safe.
“I cant help you,” Elena sighed.
Sophie was brighttoo bright for a care kid. Maybe her mum had been smart once, too, before the bottle took over. In seven years at the home, Elena had never met a child who didnt want to leave.
“Cant I live on my own?”
“Not till youre eighteen.”
“Im nearly sixteen! I can work, rent a room”
“You need a guardian. Is there anyone else? Someone who could petition for custody?”
“No one. My nan kept things bearable, but shes gone. And my dads dead.”
She said it flatly, like it was normal. Maybe, for her, it was.
“Any relatives?”
Sophie paused. “His mums alive. Never met her. She cut him offcant blame her.”
“Listen,” Elena leaned in. “Try living with your mum while I look into your nan. Deal?”
Sophie nodded. What choice did she have?
Her mum put on a showsobbing, hugging, swearing shed changed. Sophie stayed blank. She knew the act.
By day two, her mum was drinking again. Fired from her job. Back to hell.
Then, one night, a drunk bloke staggered into Sophies room. She fought him off, but that was it.
Luckily, Elena had given her a number.
“I found your nan,” Elena said. “If she agrees and passes checks, she can take you.”
Sophie begged to go with her. She didnt know her nanbut hoped she wouldnt turn her away. Just two more years, then shed be free.
A stately woman in her sixties answered the door.
“Can I help you?”
“Margaret Hayes?”
“Yes.”
“Im your granddaughter,” Sophie blurted.
Margarets composure didnt waver. “And?”
Elena stepped in, explaining everything.
“Why should I care?” Margaret asked.
“Shes your blood.”
“I dont know her. My son was troubleId rather forget him.”
“Sophies living in squalor, you could”
“I dont want anything from you,” Sophie cut in. “Just paperwork and a roof till Im eighteen. Ill buy my own food, clotheseverything. The foster moneys yours. I just need out.”
Elena shot her a look, but Margaret seemed impressed.
“Youd stay two years, then leave?”
“Promise.”
“Fine. Rules: dont call me Nan, dont touch my things, no friends over. Clear?”
“Crystal.”
Elena pulled strings. Sophies mum lost her rights. Margaret signed the forms.
Sophie played tough, but she was scared. No money, two months of school left. Would Margaret really let her starve?
That first night, Margaret called her to dinner. Proper foodreal, homemade. Sophie hadnt eaten like that in years.
Next day, Margaret eyed Sophies ruined trainers.
“Were shopping after school.”
“I cant pay.”
“My money. Id rather spend it than be embarrassed.”
Sophie didnt argue.
Margaret bought her piles of clotheseven asked her opinion.
A week later:
“Hows school?”
“Fine.”
“Show me your grades.”
“Its all online now.”
Margaret huffed but checked. Straight As.
“Good. Youre staying for sixth form, then uni. Understood?”
Sophie blinked. Shed wanted thatbut never thought it possible.
Bit by bit, the wall between them crumbled. Margaret asked about Sophies lifeeven, fleetingly, about her son.
Sophie aced her A-levels, got into uni. Margaret hired tutors, fixed the gaps.
That summer, Sophie got a job. Shed move out, like theyd agreed.
Then, in August, Margaret collapsed. Heart attack.
Sophie found her on the floor, barely breathing.
At the hospital, she burst in:
“Nan! I mean, Margaret, how are you?”
Margaret smiled weakly, stroking her hair.
“Call me Nan. Its nice. Ill recoverslowly.”
“Ill look after you. However long it takes.”
“I wont be a burden.”
“You took me in when no one else would. Let me do this.”
Margaret swallowed hard.
“Fine. One condition.”
“What?”
“No student halls. Youre staying with me.”
Sophie hugged hertight.
“Deal.”
