Snow Foal - Susanna Bailey

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and a plate of thick, brown sandwiches on the table. ‘Help yourself, love,’ she said. ‘Just say if you want more.’

      ‘I’m not hungry,’ Addie said. She watched as Penny took a sandwich, bit into it, chewed. A piece of tomato dropped on to her chest and rested on her multicoloured beads.

      ‘What time are you coming back, Penny? In the morning?’ Addie asked.

      Penny looked over at Ruth, swallowed her mouthful of food. ‘As early as I can, Addie,’ she said. ‘Once I’ve had a chance to find out what the plan is with your mum.’ She took another bite of sandwich, held the remainder in the air. There was pink lipstick on the edge of the bread.

      ‘She’ll be fine tomorrow,’ Addie said. She looked at Ruth. ‘She just needed more sleep, that’s all.’

      ‘Why don’t we let you get some sleep as well,’ said Ruth said. ‘If you’re sure you don’t need to eat. I was hoping you might be able to meet the boys before bed, but they’re still out checking the fields. This weather closed in really quickly and we have to bring the sheep in closer to the farm. There’re a few stragglers still out there. She pointed to the sandwiches, laughed again. ‘They’ll make short work of your leftovers when they do get back, Addie.’

      Addie stared at her. She didn’t care about sheep and she didn’t care about Ruth’s family. All she cared about was making the morning come as quickly as possible. ‘Come and see your room then,’ Ruth said. She sat down, pulled off her boots. ‘Bring your drink if you like.’ She gave Addie another of her smiles. ‘There’s someone rather special waiting to meet you upstairs.’

      ‘I just want to go to sleep,’ Addie said. She gulped down her hot drink, wiped her hand across her mouth, got to her feet.

      ‘Best thing,’ said Penny. ‘Try not to worry, love. Your mum’s in the right place just now.’

      Addie bit her lip. Why did adults always say that when they knew it wasn’t true? She turned her back on Penny and followed Ruth to the door.

      ‘Goodnight, Addie,’ Penny called. ‘See you very soon.’

      Addie looked over her shoulder. Penny was taking papers from her bag: papers about Addie. Papers for deciding things.

      Papers for keeping her away from Mam.

      ‘It’s all my fault,’ she said. ‘Just stupid, stupid me. Write that on your stupid papers.’

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       Addie peered out through splinters of frost on the hall window. Early light now. No one about except Mrs Donovan, shuffling up her drive with her bags.

       Perhaps they weren’t coming, after all.

       Could Addie risk going out? Was that a stupid idea?

       She had to go. She was starving. And Mam would need something when she woke.

       She stood on the doorstep, pulled up her hood. Her breath floated on the air for a moment, then disappeared. She counted the coins again: just enough, with the fifty pence from under the fridge. She checked up and down the grey street. Nobody at all now. Just cracked puddles and litter drifting in the gutter; the still, orange light from the corner shop.

       Addie hurried past the squashed row of brown brick houses with their faded doors and broken fences. She stayed close to the kerb, kept her head down. The baby at number six was screaming again. A dog started to bark.

       Addie pushed open the shop door. The bell clanged. She peered round the shelves. Please let it be Mr Borovski today, she thought. Not Mrs Crabtree, with her thin nose poking into everyone’s business. Mrs Crabtree who noticed things.

       No such luck. Mrs Crabtree came out from behind the counter and folded her arms across her bony chest. She watched Addie’s every move, looked her up and down; hovered like a hungry crow.

       Addie thumped the brown loaf and milk down by the till. ‘One pound, ten pence,’ she said. ‘The bread’s reduced.’ She pointed to the yellow sticker and counted the coins into Mrs Crabtree’s hand.

       The shopkeeper poked at them with a thin finger, pulled a piece of dark fluff from among them. ‘I’ve not seen your mam in a while,’ she said. ‘Under the weather again, is she?’

       Addie grabbed her shopping. ‘She’s busy, that’s all,’ she said. ‘With her painting.’ She turned away, felt the burn of Mrs Crabtree’s eyes as she hurried from the shop.

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      Sunni did look quite special. She had hair like dark glass and black lines painted around her eyes. And she was tiny. Even though Ruth said she was only a year younger than Addie.

      ‘Your bed’s that one,’ Sunni said, pointing to a wooden bed in the corner. Addie’s purple duvet from home was on it and her best pyjamas were laid out ready. They didn’t look right in this room. Someone had put a blue dressing gown there too. It wasn’t hers.

      ‘I know everything’s strange for you, sweetheart,’ Ruth said, ‘but you must be so tired after today. You and Sunni get to know one another a bit. I’ll pop down for hot-water bottles. Then we’ll get you girls settled. OK?’

      It wasn’t OK. Nothing was. But Addie nodded.

      ‘You can put your things on the bottom shelf,’ Sunni said. ‘The top one’s mine. But don’t touch my stuff unless you ask me first, OK?’ She cocked her head to one side and Addie saw the sparkle of a gold earring under her hair.

      ‘I’m going home soon,’ Addie said. ‘I don’t need a shelf.’

      ‘Ruth and Sam only foster kids who have to stay a long time,’ Sunni said. ‘Like me.’

      ‘Well, I’m not staying for long. Mam won’t let me.’

      Sunni shrugged her shoulders. ‘My mum wants me to come home too, only she couldn’t learn how to look after me properly, so I’m staying here.’

      ‘Forever?’ Addie said.

      ‘Expect so.’

      ‘Don’t you mind?’

      Sunni was searching through a collection of bright ornaments on her shelf. ‘Sort of, but I like it here. They’ve got chickens and pigs and I get to feed them. It’s cool. And there’s this really grumpy goat called Jelly. He got his name cos his favourite thing in the whole world is Jelly Babies. What do you think of that?’

      Addie had never known anyone who kept pigs, chickens or goats. And she’d never heard of a goat eating Jelly Babies. She thought of the night-time foxes that raided the bins in her street. She’d seen one of them devouring a bag of popcorn, warning others to keep away with a slant-eyed stare. She didn’t say so. She didn’t think Sunni would be impressed.

      Sunni held up a sequinned elephant. ‘This is my mum’s. She gave me it the last time I saw her.’

      ‘I’ve got this,’ Addie said. She brought a curled pink and white shell from her pocket, held it in the palm of her hand. ‘Mam’s lucky shell. It’s from Whitby, near where she grew up.’

      Sunni picked it up and held it up to one eye. ‘Something used to live in here,’ she said. ‘It must be dead now.’ She tossed the shell back to Addie. Like it was nothing. ‘What’s happened to your mum, then?

      ‘Nothing’s happened to her. She’s not feeling

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