There were always guests in the house. They seemed to have people round more nights than not.
Theyre all just drinking, drinkingbottles everywhereand not a bite to eat, sighed Leo, casting another hungry glance across the table. There isnt even a crust of bread just cigarette ends and an empty tin of beans. He looked over it again, hoping hed missed something, but it was still bare.
Alright, Mum, Im off, the little boy said, slowly tugging on his battered, split shoes.
He lingered for a moment, hopingdesperately hopingshe might stop him, that shed finally say, Where are you off to, love, with nothing in your belly and it freezing out there? Stay inside. Ill fix you some porridge and send the lot of them packing, clean up a bit.
He always wished for a gentle word from her. But his mothers words were always barbed, sharp as holly leaves, and made Leo want to curl up and disappear.
This time, he decided he was leaving for good. He was six years old, and felt that was grown enough. First things first, hed earn some moneybuy a bun, maybe even two, his stomach tight with hunger.
Leo had no idea how to earn money, but as he wandered past the newsagents, he spotted an empty bottle poking out of a snowdrift. He tucked it into his pocket. Soon, he found a discarded carrier bag and spent half the day picking up bottles round the neighbourhood.
The more bottles clinked in his bag, the more vivid his dreams grew. Perhaps, with this stash, hed buy one of those plump, soft currant buns. Or even a Chelsea bun with icingno, the icing might be too dear. Hed need a few more bottles.
He made his way to the station, where the blokes waiting for trains often drank lager. Leo set his heavy bag beside the kiosk and darted after another discarded bottle. But when he came back, a rough, scowling man was rifling through his things. The man snatched up his bundle and glared so fiercely that Leo turned away and stumbled off, empty-handed.
The dream of a bun faded like breath on glass.
Collecting bottles is hard graft, too, Leo thought, trudging through slushy streets. The wet snow soaked through his shoes, freezing his feet. Night closed in thick and black. He couldnt remember wandering into the stairwell of a block of flats, but there he was, collapsed at the turn of the stairs, curling up beside the radiator until sleep tugged him under.
When he woke, he thought he must still be dreaming. It was so warm, peaceful, and safeand something smelled delicious. Then a woman with kind eyes and a gentle smile appeared in the doorway.
Well, young man, she said softly, are you warm now? Had a good sleep? Lets get some breakfast down you. I found you last night in the stairwell, poor lamb, curled up like a stray pup. Brought you home with me.
Is this my home now? Leo could hardly believe it.
If you havent got anywhere else, then yes, its yours, she replied.
After that, life felt more like a fairytale. The womanher name was Daisy, a magical name, Leo thought, having never heard it beforefed him, cared for him, bought him new clothes. Little by little, he told her everything about life with his mother.
Daisys name, simple though it was, seemed enchanting to Leos young heartjust the sort of name a fairy godmother would have.
One day, she hugged him tightly, like only real mothers do, and asked, Would you like me to be your mum?
Of course he did. But happiness does not always last. A week later, his mother arrivedsoberish, screaming at Daisy, Hes still my boyyouve no right! They havent taken him away from me yet!
As she dragged Leo away, snowflakes drifted down, and he thought the house he was leaving behind looked just like a white castle where wonderful women dwelled.
Afterwards, everything grew worse. His mother kept drinking, he kept running away. Nights were spent at train stations, collecting bottles, buying bread wherever he could. He trusted no one, never asked for help.
In the end, the courts took his mothers rights away and sent Leo to a childrens home. The saddest thing was, he could never remember where Daisys magical house was.
Three years passed.
Leo grew quiet, withdrawn. He spent his days alone, drawing the same picture over and over: a white house, snowflakes tumbling from a grey sky.
One day, a journalist came to the childrens home. The head carer showed her around, introducing her to the kids. They stopped at Leos side.
Leos a thoughtful, clever lad, but he struggles with the others, explained the carer. Hes been with us three years now. We keep hoping to find him a family.
Hello, Im Daisy, the journalist offered.
At her name Leo sat bolt uprightas if a lock inside him had sprung open. He started talking, chattering about another Daisya kind one whod rescued him. Each word seemed to thaw him, cheeks flushing, eyes brightening. The carer watched in astonishment.
It turned out Daisys name was the golden key to his heart.
Listening to Leos story, the journalist Daisy wept. She promised Leo shed write about him in the local newspaper, hoping maybe, just maybe, the woman he so missed might read it and come for him.
She kept her word. And something wonderful happened.
Though Daisy didnt subscribe to the paper, her colleagues gave her birthday flowers wrapped in newspaperbecause it was winterand the headline A Kind Woman Named DaisyA Boy Named Leo is Looking For You! caught her eye.
Reading the article, Daisy knew instantlythis was the same little boy she had found sleeping on her stairs years ago.
Leo knew her at once. He ran to her, and they embraced, both in tearsso were the carers who witnessed the reunion.
Ive been waiting for you, whispered the boy.
They had to persuade him to let Daisy go home. She couldnt take him right awaythe process of adoption would take timebut she promised to visit every day.
After that, Leos life blossomed. By the time he was twenty-six, he had completed a degree in engineering, was preparing to marry a lovely woman, and had grown into a cheerful, caring young manand he adored the only mother hed ever truly had, Daisy, to whom he owed everything.
Later, as an adult, Daisy told him her own story. Her husband had left because she couldnt have children. Feeling utterly alone, she found Leo on the stairs and poured all her love into him.
When his birth mother took him away, Daisy resigned herself with sadness: Perhaps it wasnt meant to be. She was overwhelmed with joy when fate brought him back into her life.
Leo had looked into his birth mothers fate. He learned shed left the city years ago with a recently released ex-convict, drifting to parts unknown. He didnt look any further. There was no need.
