I got shouted at, too.
Even Lucy got shouted at.
And Lucy never gets shouted at. I feel like sh—word. The S one. I’m going to say it. I feel like shit. My tummy hurts from swallowing the water, my hands and knees are scraped from climbing up the bank.
Maria spoke to me afterwards. Told me I was brave, and I had saved her today. James told me I was reckless and should have got a grown up.
If I’d have done that, Lucy would have drowned. I told him that.
He said I’ve got a smart mouth and to get to my room.
They have been shouting ever since I’ve come upstairs. Actually, that’s a lie. They stopped whilst Lucy was bathed, and I was showered.
I hate that I got told off. It was her stupid fault for playing on the rocks.
What was I going to do? I wasn’t going to let her drown. She can’t swim. I can swim, and I made a promise. I don’t break my promises. I know what it’s like when people say things they don’t mean.
Like when my real mum said she would be back in a minute.
She lied.
She didn’t come back.
There’s a knock on the door before Lucy’s little head peeks round. Her hair in pigtails, herHarry PotterPJs with the famous bolt of lightning in red are peppered over the otherwise cream material.
“Are you okay, Cookie?”
I sit up in bed as a crash comes from downstairs, and she jumps in the room, her little body quickly closing the door. Her teddy gripped in her hand.
“I don’t like them shouting,” she whispers.
Another crash and she jumps again, making me frown.
She’s pale, her eyes are bloodshot. Has she been crying? Or is it from the pond water?
“Can we have a sleepover?” she asks, and I nod as more shouts come from downstairs.
“Sure.” I stand up and make a little nest for her on the floor with some blankets and pillows. “Do you want to go and get your pillow?” I ask as she stands frozen by the door.
“No,” she shakes her head, “I’m okay with Teddy.”
“Come on then.”
She runs across the room quickly, diving onto her little made-up bed. She pulls the covers up to her chin as I turn out my lamp.
“Why do they shout so much now?” She asks.
“Grown-ups fight all the time,” I say, trying to reassure her, or am I saying that to reassure myself? My mum used to shoutat her boyfriends. She was always the one screaming, though. Here, it always seems to be James.
Another crash, like someone has just thrown something, and I’m worried and scared for Maria. Sometimes when people get angry, they do stupid things.
That’s what Maria told me before when I asked her.
“I don’t like it.” Lucy holds her hands over her ears and shakes her head. “Make it stop, make it stop. I hate it, I hate it.”
“Hey,” I say, reaching my hand out to grab hers. “Lucy, it’s okay. I’m here. Breathe, you have to breathe. Don’t let the flashes take over.”
I reach out and grab her hand, but she tries to wrench it back. So, I grip the only thing I can.
