We almost always had people over at our place. Guests seemed to come and go every day. Everyone would drink and drink, bottles everywhere, but there was barely a scrap of food to be found. Id have settled for just a slice of bread… but the table was littered with cigarette butts and an empty tin of beans. Jamie looked the table over once more, but as usual, nothing.
Alright, Mum, Im off, he said, slowly pulling on his battered old boots. Part of him still hopedjust oncehis mum would stop him, say something kind, beg him not to go out into the cold, hungry. Maybe shed finally say, Where are you off to, Jamie? You havent eaten, and its freezing outside. Stay in, Ill cook you some porridge and send everyone packing, give the place a clean. He always wished for gentle words from his mum, but her voice was always sharp, like brambles scratching at his heart, making Jamie want to curl up and disappear.
This time, though, he was sure he was leaving for good. He was six years old, after all, and that felt pretty grown up to him. His plan was simple: earn some money and buy a lovely soft bun, maybe even two, since his stomach had been rumbling for hours. He hadnt a clue how to make a penny, but as he wandered past the local corner shops, he spotted an empty bottle poking out of a snowdrift. Into his pocket it went. Then he found an abandoned carrier bag, and spent the whole afternoon collecting discarded bottles.
His bag was soon jangling with glass, getting heavier with each find. In his minds eye, Jamie pictured himself buying the perfect sweet bun covered with currants, maybe even one with icingthough he wasnt sure he had enough bottles for such luxury and decided to look a bit longer, just in case.
He wandered over to the platform of the suburban train station, where men would down cans of lager while waiting for their ride. Jamie left his heavy bag beside the newsagents stall and dashed off to grab a freshly dumped bottle. While he was off, a grimy, rough-looking man appeared, grabbed his bag, and glared so fiercely that Jamie didnt dare say a wordhe just turned and walked away.
Dreams of sweet rolls crumbled like dust.
Picking bottles isnt easy work either, Jamie sighed, trudging down the slushy, snowy pavement. The wet snow clung to his worn socks, numbing his feet. Darkness had settled when he found himself huddled in the entrance hall of a nearby block of flats. He sank down on the landing, edged close to the radiator, and slipped into a heavy, dream-filled sleep.
When Jamie woke up, he thought he might still be asleepit was warm, peaceful, and there was a wonderful smell of something cooking. Then a woman walked in, her smile gentle and kind.
Well now, young man, she said in a soft voice. Are you warm enough? Had a good sleep? She nodded toward the kitchen. Lets get you some breakfast. I passed by in the night and saw you there, curled up like a little puppy on the stairs, so I brought you home.
Is this my home now? Jamie asked, hardly daring to believe his luck.
If youve nowhere else to go, then yes, this is your home now, she replied kindly.
What happened next felt just like a fairy talethis stranger cooked for him, looked after him, even bought him a set of new clothes. Bit by bit, Jamie opened up about his life with Mum. The kind lady had a magical name, tooViolet. To Jamie, whod never heard that name before, it sounded like something straight out of a storybook, fit only for good-hearted fairies.
One day, would you like me to be your mum? she asked, hugging him tight, just as loving mothers do.
Of course he wanted that… but the happy days ended too soon. A week later, his real mum showed up. She wasnt even properly drunk, but screamed at Violet for taking him in. They havent taken away my rights as a mum just yet, she spat, and hes still my son.
As she dragged him away, flakes of snow fell from the sky. Jamie looked back at Violets housewhite as a castleand wished he could stay forever.
Life got worse after that. Mum drank all the time, and Jamie kept running away, spending nights at train stations, hunting for bottles, buying bread to survive. He never made friends, never begged for handouts.
Eventually, his mum lost her parental rights, and Jamie was sent to a childrens home.
What hurt him most was that he couldnt remember where that white castle of a house was, or the street where Violet lived.
Three years passed.
Jamie stayed quiet and distant at the home, happiest when he could find a quiet corner and draw. He always drew the same picture: a white house, snow falling around it.
One day, a journalist came to the childrens home. The carer took her around, introducing her to all the kids. When they reached Jamie, she said, Jamies a good lad, interesting, but he still finds it hard to fit in, even after three years here. Were working hard to find him a family.
Hello, Jamie. Im Violet, said the journalist.
Jamie sat up, eyes widening, and started talkingreally talking, telling her all about the wonderful lady called Violet whod once looked after him. It was as if something inside him came back to lifethe carer was shocked at the change.
It turned out that the name Violet was the golden key to his heart.
The journalist, overcome with Jamies story, shed tears right there, promising shed write about him in the local paper, hoping maybe, just maybe, the kind woman from years ago would read his story and come find him.
Violet kept her word, and something magical happened.
The woman didnt usually read the paper, but it was her birthday, and her workmates gave her some flowers, wrapped in newspaper because of the winter cold. As she arranged her flowers at home, a small headline caught her eye: Kind Woman Violet, A Boy Named Jamie Is Looking For You!
She read the article and realised it was her Jamiethe same boy shed once rescued from the stairwell and hoped to adopt.
Jamie recognised her instantly when she visited. He ran into her arms. They hugged tightly, both of them crying, and so did everyone else in the room.
I waited for you so long, Jamie sobbed.
They had to convince him to let Violet go home that night, as she couldnt adopt him right awaythere were processes to be followed. She promised to visit every day until he could come live with her.
P.S.
After that, Jamies life turned around. Now at 26, hes finished university with a degree in engineering, planning to marry a lovely woman. Hes cheerful, outgoing, grateful for everythingand loves his mum Violet fiercely, knowing he owes her everything.
Later, when he was grown, Violet told him her own story: her husband left her because they couldnt have children, and shed felt hopeless, unwanted. It was then she found Jamie asleep on the landing and poured all her love into him.
When Jamies birth mother took him back, Violet thought it was fates wayand tried to move on. But her happiness knew no bounds the day she found Jamie again at the childrens home.
Jamie tried to find out what happened to his birth mother. It turned out the flat had only ever been rented, and shed left the city years ago with a man just out of prison. Jamie never looked any further. There was no need.
