For Dawne, Susie, Susannah, Rachel, Helen,
Emma, Becky and Clea…
May we dance in this glorious fire of tea-drinking, wine-sipping, heart-sharing friendship until our old bones return to dust and all that laughter and all those tears are heard as Love, echoing through the glittering hallways of eternity. X
For Mathilda, Freddie and Ella…
For your truly wonderful dads, Mike and Pete, you touch my heart with your enthusiasm and generosity – thank you both so much. x
Contents
Chapter 3 - When that happened
An Excerpt from A Sea of Stars
An Excerpt from A Million Angels
About the Publisher
Foreword by Andy McCullough – Head of Policy for the charity Railway Children
You may be surprised to know 100,000 children in the UK run away from home or care every year. Many are thrown out, no longer wanted in the family. The majority of children say family problems and issues are the main reason for them running.
Often when you end up running away you feel you have got rid of your problems; however, you usually substitute them for other problems. Being out on the streets is lonely, cold and really dangerous. We know that there are always people who will exploit young people and use them for profit and power.
I have worked in the field of social care for over twenty-seven years, but some of my training was as a child myself, spending a lot of time on the streets, having run away. I met a lot of good people whilst out there, people who had grown up in care, been kicked out by their family or had become detached, but always, like a dark shadow, there were people who wanted to use you to make sure they were better off.
Gabriella’s story is an important one to hear. Who knows, it may make you think a little differently when you pass a child on the streets…
Railway Children is a registered charity, no.1058991
Visit www.railwaychildren.org.uk
Most days drift by like clouds. Others burn deep into your life and make a blister, like a bright white moon in a black night sky.
And you’re left wondering, forever.
Then, I might as well have been invisible for all Dad and Amy cared. They’d been busy making massive decisions about my life without even thinking about me, or bothering about how I might feel. They’d obviously been plotting and planning for weeks, whispering under the covers at night, painting the walls of our flat with lies.
The day had been creeping towards me like a tiger in the dark with its amber eyes glinting, for ages. The shouting had been getting worse. Dad had started spending more and more money we didn’t have. He’d broken his promise and started using credit cards again, to