Certain details in this story, including names, places and dates,
have been changed to protect the family’s privacy.
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First published by HarperElement 2015
FIRST EDITION
© Casey Watson 2015
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Casey Watson asserts the moral right to
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Ebook Edition © August 2015 ISBN: 9780007543113
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Contents
Exclusive sneak peek: Skin Deep by Casey Watson
‘How about it?’ I asked my husband Mike and our long-term foster son Tyler.
Neither batted an eyelid, because it was the sort of thing they were both used to me saying – Mike because I’d spent most of our marriage persuading him to do things against his better judgement, and Tyler because in the year and a half he’d been with us he’d had ample chance to get to know how I ticked.
I looked pointedly at my watch. ‘Only they’re phoning back in ten minutes and we need to make an executive decision.’
‘I know,’ said Mike, equally pointedly. ‘And I know the one they’ll want. But hold your horses, Superwoman. Let’s stop and think first. Come on. It’s a bit short notice, after all.’ He held his hands up then, presumably seeing my expression, not to mention realising the silliness of what he’d just said. Of course it was short notice. It was an emergency placement! ‘Okay, point taken,’ he said. ‘But, like I said, we should still stop and think first. What with John being on holiday, and everything …’
The mention of the word ‘holiday’ was like rubbing salt in a wound. It was just what we needed, too, but currently couldn’t quite stretch to, our elderly car having recently gasped its last. Yes, we had a new(ish) one, but a car that starts is no match for a week spent on a beach, particularly today, which had dawned hot, dry and sunny but already saw me sweating over a hot stove.
It was Saturday and Tyler had half a football team coming over, not only to go to football, but also to eat the breakfast I’d impulsively promised them before going to footie practice: bacon butties, sausage sandwiches, the lot. That was the sort of hare-brained thing superwomen tended to do as well.
‘John’ was John Fulshaw, our fostering agency link worker, and when it came to taking kids on, everything normally came through him first. ‘I know,’ I said to Mike, ‘and in an ideal world we’d run it all by him, of course we would, but EDT need an answer, and they need it fast.’
‘They don’t have any other options?’ Mike asked, probably seeing his weekend disappearing.
I shook my head. ‘Nope. Well, they say not. Say there’s absolutely no one else to ask.’
‘Eight you say?’ Mike asked. ‘A boy? Eight years old?’
I nodded.
‘And just for the weekend?’ Tyler asked. ‘Because I’m on my soccer skills course next week, aren’t I?’ He grinned. ‘So I won’t be here to help you if he runs you ragged.’
I blew Ty