Her eyes widened. ‘What happened to you?’
‘I went into foster care.’
‘You did?’
‘Yes, shortly after Dad died. My teachers noticed that things weren’t right and got social services involved. I had a few short-term placements but I was with the same family from just before my eleventh birthday.’
She stared at me, disbelief evident on her face. ‘I thought you owned this place.’
‘I do.’
‘But you went through the foster system.’
‘I did, but how a person starts in life – or any difficulties they encounter along the way – doesn’t need to define what happens for the rest of their life. I had dreams and I made sure I fulfilled them.’
She stared at me and I thought she was going to ask further questions or perhaps open up about her own life. I hoped she’d do the latter but, instead, she knocked back thelast of her water.
‘Can I do the washing up to say thanks?’
‘We’ve got a dishwasher, but I appreciate the offer.’
‘Did you mean what you said about repairing my leggings?’
‘Yes. Drop them in whenever you have a minute and I’ll get them stitched up for you.’
She pulled on her coat and zipped it up, then pulled her bobble hat over her head.
‘My dad died when I was young too. There was a fight in the pub and he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Got knocked off a bar stool, hit his head and that was it.’
‘Oh, Zoe, I’m so sorry.’
‘My mam went to pieces. Our Jacey had to look after me cos I was seven but she was only ten herself. I wish our teachers had noticed and we’d gone into foster care too before Mam opened up our home to that piece of…’ Her whole body had tensed and her face was flushed. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.
‘Are you all right?’ I asked.
She was silent for a moment, then she opened her eyes once more, her body relaxing. ‘I’m better than I was back there. Safer. Even with Griff on a power trip.’
Safer. I knew that word well. It backed up Jim’s suspicions that Zoe had fled from abuse.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ I asked gently.
She shook her head. ‘I need to go, but thanks for the food and tell that other lass thanks for cleaning me up.’
‘You’re welcome.’
She winced as she pulled on her sock and trainer and, as she gingerly placed her feet on the floor and tried the weight on her right foot, her face contorted in pain.
‘It’s really no problem to give you a lift.’
‘It’s fine. My foot’s cold from the ice, that’s all. Feels a bit numb.’
She hobbled over to the door and I wished she’d accept my help, but I couldn’t make her. I unlocked the door but turned to face her before I opened it.
‘I know you’ve had it tough – still got it tough – but never let go of your dreams, Zoe, and don’t let your current circumstances be a barrier to achieving them.’
She gave me a half-smile which I interpreted asThanks for being kind but we both know that’s a pointless platitude.
‘Don’t forget there’s still an offer of some shifts here.’ I opened the door, not wanting her to feel as though I was trapping her inside and forcing her to talk against her will. ‘It’s a starting point.’
