‘Oops – glad you spotted that,’ she said, delving once again into her capacious bag, and pulling out a plastic bag with a tablet box inside it. ‘Don’t want to land you with another load of problems, do I? Though there’s only a few days’ supply in there, I’m afraid. You’ll need to get in touch with your GP to get some more organised. He takes the maximum adult dose.’ She consulted her notes. ‘Three per night, 7 p.m.’
Before I had the chance to point out that it was already a lot later than that, Tyler, who’d been keeping a discreet eye-out anyway, called us once again to the window.
‘Well, that’s … interesting,’ he said, as we all went to join him. ‘Is it a boy? Is it a T-Rex? You decide …’, he added, laughing.
It appeared to be the latter. Some sort of dinosaur, at any rate. Miller, who was dark-haired, and slighter than I’d expected, was currently striding up and down on the grass outside the window, with his neck craned forward, his shoulders hunched, and his arms close to his chest with his hands bent and hooked to look like claws. ‘What the hell is that about?’ Tyler observed, transfixed.
‘Language!’ I reminded him, trying not to smile myself. It was really quite an impressive impersonation. ‘Perhaps time to go out and rein him in?’ I said to Mike.
‘Literally, by the look of it,’ he said, chuckling and shaking his head. ‘I’ll just go and dig out my patented dinosaur net, shall I?’
Libby, however, looked far from amused. And something else struck me – was she actually afraid of this child? ‘I think you’d better,’ she said. ‘Before he gets even worse. The thing is with Miller is that he’s all about control. Likes to think he’s in charge. Pulling everyone’s strings, you know? Definitely something to bear in mind.’
‘Oh, we will,’ I said, watching him strut back and forth, completely focused on his performance.
Or perhaps she was just embarrassed about having left her car keys in the car, with Miller – clearly a challenging child – still in there. Whatever the reason, she was certainly uncomfortable. ‘Would you like a top-up?’ I asked, nodding towards her empty mug.
‘No thank you,’ she said. ‘I need to rush off as soon as I can, actually. I have to get across the county to pick my husband up, and I’m already late.’
I heard the front door go. ‘Okay, well let’s hope Mike can manage to get your car keys off Miller, then. And we’re happy to settle him in ourselves if you need to get off. I’ll have a read-through of what you’ve brought and hopefully you can dig up some more information for us tomorrow. I understand he’s excluded from mainstream education. Any news on an alternative yet?’
Again, the poor woman shook her head. ‘As far as I know, they’ve exhausted all the usual routes and there’s nothing on the horizon at the moment. However, I do know the ELAC team are on the case.’ (ELAC was education of looked-after children.) She turned back to the window. ‘I do hope Mike can get him inside. Maybe I should go out, too, and just try to get my car keys? I could jump in and drive off then, couldn’t I? I’m just thinking you’d have more of a chance of settling him if I weren’t here. Like I said, I don’t think he likes me.’
I had no answer to that, and I really didn’t know what to think. But she was right about one thing: I did think she was better off hopping into her car the first chance she got and just leaving us to it. If control and attention were the driving forces behind Miller, then the fewer people there were around to witness his provocative behaviour, the better.
After telling Tyler to stay put, I followed Libby out of the front door. Miller was continuing his bizarre behaviour and was also making squealing noises, presumably for added effect. I raised my eyebrows at Mike, who’d as yet to make a move, though he’d obviously been talking to him. ‘Come on, just chuck us those car keys, will you, mate,’ he said, ‘so that Libby can get her other bag out of her boot. It’s stuff she’s brought over for Casey and we need it. Our Tyler is waiting to show you his new PlayStation games as well. I think he’s got a dinosaur one, come to think of it.’
Miller stopped his pacing and regarded us all suspiciously. Then, bizarrely, like something out of a comedy movie, he stomped up and roared at me. Right at my face. I could almost taste the warm sweetness of his breath. He then placed the car keys on the window ledge by the front door, and returned to making exaggerated steps across the lawn.
Libby had clearly spotted her moment. Quick as a flash, she snatched up her keys and darted to the car – there really was no other word for it. Not until she was inside it, and had locked it, did she lower the window. And then, I noted, by no more than an inch.
The engine sprang to life. ‘I’ll give you a call in the morning, Casey,’ she shouted through the gap. ‘And, Miller, you be good, okay? I’ll see you soon.’
If we were aghast – which we were – Miller was galvanised. ‘Noooooo!’ he yelled, running full pelt towards the car, even kicking it as it moved out into the road. ‘Get back here, you lying bitch!’ he yelled. ‘You fucking liar! Get back here!’ He then bent down and snatched up a handful of gravel, and threw it hard at the car as it drove away. ‘Get back here! I’m not staying!’ he screamed up the street.
Everything became clear in an instant. I didn’t know what had been said between them, but between Miller’s fury, and the social worker’s hasty escape, I suspected no firm agreement had been reached about him actually staying with us tonight. If so, why on earth hadn’t she warned us?
Mike walked up to Miller’s side, making the most of the disparity in their sizes. Mike was a big man – six foot three – and Miller was short and skinny. ‘Come on, lad,’ he said, standing close but being careful not to touch him. ‘Forget social workers for tonight, hey? Let’s go in and meet Tyler. Then you can have a look at your room before settling in for the night. How does that sound?’
Some kind of switch must have flipped because Miller then turned to look up at Mike. For a moment, I thought he was going to kick him as well, for good measure, but he didn’t. He just inspected him, looking him up and down, calmly and minutely. Then he nodded, as if decided. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Can I have a drink?’
Then he swivelled and trotted back down the front path towards me.
Miller was definitely on the small side for twelve. He looked more like ten, in fact, an impression already heightened by his strange, child-like antics and apparent lack of self-consciousness. And he had strange darting eyes that never quite looked directly into mine. His hair was dirty and matted, and in need of a good trim, and his clothes were far too small for him. Not for the first time – and I’d seen a lot of kids, from all sorts of backgrounds – I wondered how a child who had been in care for so many years could look so urchin-like and dishevelled.
‘So, do I come in?’ he asked me. There was a note of challenge in his voice.
‘Of course,’ I said, smiling, but still wary. I stood aside to let him pass.
‘Up here, then?’ he asked. Then headed straight up the stairs as if he owned the place. And was now, at least, in it. Mike shut the door firmly behind him.
***
The bedroom we had hastily prepared for Miller was the one opposite Tyler’s. There was a double bed, the usual furniture of wardrobe, drawers and bedside table, and, as I’d promised, we had added a new television and a borrowed PlayStation, as well as a selection of books, and a bright green rug and matching cushions. I’d normally have chosen and bought a new duvet cover in a theme I thought the new child would like, as well as posters and a matching lightshade, but having had no time, I’d had to plump for something plain and pastel from the pile in