**Diary Entry 28th March**
“Your mums here to pick you up. Get your things.”
People say every kid in care longs to hear those words. But Lucy flinched as if struck.
“Come on, hurry up. Why are you just sitting there?”
Mrs. Thompson frowned, baffled by the girls lack of joy. Life in a childrens home was no picnicmany ran away just to escape it. Yet here was Lucy, being taken back to her own family, acting like it was a punishment.
“I dont want to go,” Lucy muttered, turning to the window. Her friend Molly shot her a sideways glance but stayed silent. She didnt get it either. Molly wouldve given anything to go home, but no one wanted her there.
“Lucy, whats wrong?” Mrs. Thompson pressed. “Your mums waiting.”
“I dont want to see her. I wont go back.”
The other girls were listening now, so Mrs. Thompson steered her into an office.
“Your mums made mistakes, yes,” she said gently. “But shes trying. They wouldnt let her take you otherwise.”
“You think this is the first time?” Lucy scoffed. “Ive been in care twice. Last time, she hid the bottles, cleaned up, even got a jobjust long enough for the social workers to leave. Then it all went back to normal. She only wants me for the benefits.”
“Lucy, I cant change that. But surely home is better than here?”
“Better?!” Lucys voice cracked. “Do you know what its like to go hungry? To walk to school in broken trainers when its freezing? To hide in your room, praying her drunk mates dont come knocking? Why wont they just take her rights away?”
Tears welled up. The home wasnt perfect, but at least she was fed and safe.
“I cant help you,” Mrs. Thompson sighed. Shed worked there seven years, yet this was the first time a child refused to leave.
“Cant I live on my own? Get a job, rent a room?”
“Not till youre eighteen.”
“Im nearly sixteen!”
Mrs. Thompson knew Lucy was too grown for her age. But rules were rules.
“Is there anyone else who could take custody? File to remove your mums rights?”
“No one. My nan kept things bearable, but shes gone now.”
“Your dad?”
“Dead. Drunk.”
The words came flat, like stating the weather.
“Any relatives on his side?”
Lucy hesitated. “His mum might be alive. Never met her. She cut him offcant blame her.”
“Heres what well do,” Mrs. Thompson said. “Try living with your mum while I look into your nan. Deal?”
Lucy nodded. What choice did she have?
Her mum put on a showsobbing, begging forgivenessbut Lucy stayed cold. She knew the act would drop the minute they got home.
And it did. Day one, her mum pretended. By day two, she was back with the vodka.
Two months later, a drunk man stumbled into Lucys room at night. She fought him off, shaking. Enough.
Mrs. Thompson had given her a number. She called.
“I found your nan,” Mrs. Thompson said. “If she agrees, she can get custody.”
Lucy insisted on coming. She didnt know this woman, but shed take any lifeline.
The door opened to a sharp-eyed woman in her sixties. “Yes?”
“Margaret Whitmore?” Mrs. Thompson asked.
“Thats me.”
“Im your granddaughter,” Lucy blurted. No point dancing around it.
Margarets face stayed blank. “And?”
Mrs. Thompson stepped in, explaining the situation.
“Why should I care?” Margaret said.
“Shes your family.”
“I dont know her. My son was nothing but troubleId rather forget him.”
Lucy cut in. “Look, I dont know you either, and honestly, I dont care to. But I need a roof till Im eighteen. Ill buy my own food, get a job after GCSEs. The state moneys yoursI just need the paperwork. If I had another option, I wouldnt be here.”
Mrs. Thompson winced, but Margaret looked almost impressed.
“Smart mouth for a drunks kid,” she said. “Two years, then youre gone?”
“Promise.”
“Fine. Rules: dont call me Nan, dont touch my things, no friends over. Clear?”
“Crystal.”
The legal wheels turned. Lucys mum lost her rights, and Margaret became her guardian.
Lucy played tough, but fear gnawed at her. No money, two months left of schoolwhat if Margaret really let her starve?
That first night, Margaret called her to dinner. Proper food, warm and homemade. Lucy hadnt eaten like that in years.
Next morning, Margaret eyed Lucys battered trainers. “Were shopping after school. No arguments.”
“I cant pay”
“My house, my rules. I wont have you looking like a stray.”
Lucy let her. No complaints.
A week later, Margaret asked, “Hows school?”
“Fine.”
“Show me your grades.”
Lucy grinned. “Its all online now.”
Margaret rolled her eyes but checked. “Not bad. With marks like these, youre staying for A-levels. Then uni.”
“Unis for kids with parents who can pay.”
Margaret fixed her with a look. “Youre staying. End of discussion.”
Lucys chest tightened. A chance.
Slowly, the wall between them crumbled. Margaret asked about Lucys lifeeven, briefly, about her son.
Lucy aced her A-levels, got into uni. Margaret hired tutors, filled the gaps.
That summer, Lucy found a job, ready to move out as agreed.
Then Margaret collapsed. A heart attack.
Lucy found her on the floor, pale and still. For one terrible moment, she thought she was gone.
At the hospital, Lucy burst in. “Nan!” She caught herself. “Margaret. How are you?”
Margaret smiled weakly, stroking Lucys hair. “Nan is fine. Ill recoverslowly.”
“Ill look after you. However long it takes.”
“I wont be a burden.”
“You took me in when you didnt have to. Gave me more than my own mum ever did. So Im staying. Like it or not.”
Margarets breath hitched. “Fine. But no student halls. Youll live with me.”
“Deal.” Lucy hugged herfinallyand felt the old womans arms tighten around her.
