Molly stopped walking and for a brief moment closed her eyes. Her heart sank. ‘It’s okay, we do need to deal with it, but it will be okay … promise.’
‘But what about your husband? He wanted to ring the police over a few bread rolls.’
Molly wasn’t looking forward to Cam’s ‘I told you so’. And without a doubt, after this revelation taking Bree back to the cottage was going to cause fireworks. Her thoughts were ticking over. It was simple: everyone deserves a second chance. Bree just needed to promise not to steal from them again. Molly even thought she could pretend the phone had been mislaid somehow, or even blame it on her baby brain; she was always picking things up and leaving them in random places. It wasn’t long ago that she left the toilet rolls in the fridge and the milk in the airing cupboard. For an easy life, Molly would say she’d picked up the phone and left it somewhere. She was doing it for all the right reasons; it was about giving a young homeless girl a meal and a bed for the night, and if she told the truth, it was unlikely Cam would let her through the door. Surely a little white lie to keep the peace wouldn’t hurt?
Molly held out her hand. ‘If you give it back to me, then I will sort it out from there.’
Bree nodded, and took the hat from her head and the scarf from her neck. She bundled them up and put them in Molly’s hand, leaving her feeling puzzled.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Molly. ‘Put these back on, you’ll catch your death.’
‘But I stole these from you. You sewed the buttons back onto my coat and I repaid you by taking these off the table. I am sorry. I shouldn’t have.’
Molly was taken back. ‘This is what you stole?’ she asked, looking at the hat and scarf then back at Bree.
‘Yes, they were just sitting there on the table and…’
‘Is this all you took?’
Bree nodded.
Feeling relieved, Molly gave a tiny chuckle. ‘You didn’t steal these. I left them there for you to have.’ She pulled the hat back down over Bree’s head and wrapped the scarf around her neck. ‘They were for you.’
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ confirmed Molly.
Bree smiled. ‘Thank you, they really help on nights like tonight.’ She paused. ‘What did you think I’d taken?’
Molly knew this was her chance to ask Bree about the phone but she also didn’t want to make Bree feel uncomfortable about coming back to the cottage and flee into the night. Goodness knows where she would end up sleeping. And surely, if Bree had been honest about the stuff she’d taken off the table, she would have mentioned the phone.
With a swift change of subject, Molly looked up at the falling flakes and avoided an answer. ‘Come on, this weather is so cold I can’t feel my hands and feet.’ She didn’t meet Bree’s eye but looked down to the icy ground and began to walk. They hurried towards the main street and the van was soon in sight. ‘Cam will be wondering where I am. He’s misplaced his phone so he can’t message me.’ She took a quick sideward glance at Bree, who didn’t react to the comment, leaving Molly still thinking the phone must be at home somewhere.
Molly unlocked the van and they climbed inside. Bree glanced at the shelter through the window. From the outside, in the darkness, no one would have ever guessed that inside there were numerous bodies shielding from the cold, snowy doorsteps that they’d frequented on many occasions. She shivered. ‘I could really do with a good night’s sleep…’
‘And tonight, you will,’ replied Molly, switching on the engine. With cold air blasting from the heater, she got out and quickly scraped the ice from the windscreen. She too glanced towards the shelter. She couldn’t imagine anyone getting much rest with that many bodies sleeping under one roof – but, thanks to Sam, at least theyhada roof. Looking at Bree, she was suddenly reluctant to take her home, especially after Cam’s reaction this morning, but there was no other choice and she was just going to have to convince him it was the right thing to do. It was the best option.
Molly climbed back into the van and began to drive. The squall of snow was a white sheet that obscured the view. The conditions were awful, the wipers swishing at top speed, the flakes continuing to bat against the windscreen. It was only a few miles to home and they travelled slowly through the town, snow and ice crunching under the tyres. Roadworks had reduced the traffic to a single lane and once they were through the first set of lights the cars in front began to pick up a little speed. There were only a couple of pedestrians on the streets, clutching their bags tightly and dipping their chins, trying to avoid the cold stinging snow on their faces.
Stopping at the next set of lights, Molly noticed Bree was staring through the window towards the long line of Victorian houses beside the road.
‘I always wanted to live in one of those houses – Millionaires’ Row,’ murmured Bree.
‘Millionaires’ Row… Are you from around these parts?’ asked Molly, surprised Bree knew the common nickname for the houses along this road. But Bree didn’t answer, just carried on looking at the houses. Some were in darkness, but others were lit up and they could see televisions flickering and families huddled together around the dining table. Once again, Molly wondered about Bree’s family. Why wasn’t she in foster care? Why wasn’t someone looking out for her? Molly was sad at the thought that she was all alone in the world.
It was just before eight p.m. when they crossed the bridge from Glensheil into Heartcross. Along the snowy gravel track there was no street lighting and so Molly was thankful when they reached the high street. Bree was resting her head against the window.
‘This morning … why did you leave?’ asked Molly. She was intrigued. If Bree hadn’t heard the heated discussion between her and Cam, then why would she have walked out?
Bree looked at her.
‘I heard a man’s voice and assumed it was your husband. I didn’t want to be around if he still wanted to call the police, so I left, but I shouldn’t have just walked out without thanking you for the food and mending my coat. I’m sorry, I don’t have anything to give you.’
‘What do you mean? I don’t want you to give me anything,’ asked Molly, puzzled.
‘I can’t pay you for mending my coat. No one is usually this kind to me, except for Sam at the shelter. She’s cool for her age.’
Molly smiled. ‘I’m sure there’s a compliment in there somewhere. Really, it was just a couple of buttons from an old tin I’ve had since I was a child.’ Molly saw her opening and took the plunge, asking, ‘Apart from Sam, do you have any other friends?’
