“I’m hungry,” I said. I wasn’t lying. My stomach snorted. “Where’re you taking me? And I don’t wanna go to no Alabama Chicken Cottage or Mississippi Hen Hut. Their chicken is off-key.”
Louise didn’t answer. She kept her eyes on the road. Ten minutes later, she pulled into the car park of a McD’s restaurant on the Ashburton ring road. She took out a five-pound note from her purse. I liberated it from her, picked up my meerkat, and was gone before Louise could say the N of Naomi. I looked back when I reached the McD’s entrance. Louise shook her head, took out her mobile phone from her handbag, and punched a number. She retrieved her half-smoked cigarette from the glove compartment, sparked it, and looked out the window.
* * *
I had just sunk the last morsel of a cheese quarter-pounder when Louise parked her slim butt opposite me. She looked like she had joined in on one of those charity fun-runs but her fitness wasn’t up to spec. “Your man not coming around tonight?” I asked.
“Leave it, Naomi.”
“He might be cheating on ya, goring someone else.”
“Naomi!”
“If that was me I’d churn his balls with one of those food-blitzer things when he’s sleeping.”
Through a straw I sucked my chocolate milkshake trying to roadblock a giggle. I couldn’t quite manage it. A spattering of chocolate spewed out over the table and over Louise’s brown leather jacket. A passing black teenage girl carrying a tray of burgers and fries laughed out loud. I put my drink down and wiped my mouth and nose with the back of my hand. Louise’s eyebrows switched forty-five degrees and something funny happened to her lips. She was on the edge of the cliff wearing five-inch-high stilettos. I might’ve gone too far.
“Sorry,” I said.
Louise huffed and puffed to the counter. She returned moments later with a handful of napkins and a coffee. I had wiped the table clean. I leaned back into my seat with my meerkat squashed between my arms and stomach.
Louise groped for her phone in her jeans pocket. She closed her eyes and took in two mega breaths. She scoped me hard. “Would you mind staying for a week or two with a black family?” she suggested. “I was thinking of this second-generation British, West Indian family. It’s not ideal but it won’t be for long. Just until I can place you somewhere more suitable.”
“A black family?” Monkey on ball bearings. What’s she on?
“Yes,” Louise nodded. “As I said, only for a short while. They’re very good. And you’ve got black friends you get on very well with.”
I shrugged. This is new. It could be interesting. “I s’pose. As long as they’re not too hugalicious or prick fiddlers.”
Louise jabbed her mobile. I watched her every move. She picked up her coffee and walked out of the restaurant. She kept an eye on me through the window. What’s the frucking point? She’s gonna give me the lowdown anyway.
I hot-toed outside to join her. Louise turned her back on me.
“Put it on speaker,” I urged.
Louise ignored me.
“It’s about me, right? Put it on speaker.”
Louise did what she was told.
“Hello? Hello, Colleen, it’s Louise. Thank God you’re in.”
“Hi, Louise. Everything good with you?”
“Not exactly. I’m in a spot.”
“Oh, what’s up?”
“Can you do me a big favor? I have tried everybody else and I’m fast running out of options. I know it’s late in the day but I really need your help.”
“It’s after eight so—”
“I have an emergency case,” Louise interrupted. “I really need an emergency foster carer for the next two weeks or so until I can find somewhere permanent.”
“Two weeks is no problem. I’ll just clean up our spare bedroom. I haven’t used it for a while. Anything about the case I need to know? I’m not having you shove any self-harmers our way without you telling us. That last case really scared the kids. Tony had to give the bedroom walls a new coat of paint.”
Louise offered me a worried glance; I made a face at her.
“No, nothing like that,” Louise replied. “Well, er, there’s something but we’ll talk about it when I arrive. That last case, I didn’t even know she was a self-harmer. It wasn’t on her file and she didn’t have any scars on her arms.”
“You should’ve looked at her legs.”
“I know that now. I’m so sorry, my mistake.”
“Who’s loving razor blades?” I wanted to know. “Is it Taneka Taylor who used to be at the unit? Her life was always on a detour.”
Louise covered her phone with her hand. “Not now, Naomi.”
“So how do you know this emergency case isn’t a self-harmer?” Colleen wanted confirmation.
“I have known the case for a while.”
“I’m not a fricking case,” I raised my voice. “I’ve got a name. Naomi Brisset.”
Louise side-eyed me. She was back on the edge of the cliff.
“How old?” asked Colleen.
“Fourteen.” Louise eye-drilled me. “Going on twenty-
nine,” she resumed. “There’s something you should know.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“She’s Caucasian. Normally I wouldn’t . . .”
What the fruck is Caucasian? Why’s Louise talking all foreign all of a sudden?
I gave Louise one of my best what the freak are you talking about glares. Silence for ten seconds.
“Can I call you back in a minute, Colleen?” said Louise. “I won’t be long.”
Louise spotlit me for five seconds without leaking a word. Her eyes were desperate. “So, are you really okay staying with a black family? It’s either that or the secure unit. I’d rather you stay with a foster family—”
“I’m not going back to the secure unit!” I squeezed my meerkat close to my stomach. “Can’t stand the staff there. Hate ’em.”
“Do you really hate them, Naomi? You were a bit tearful when you left.”
“That’s cos I was leaving Kim and Nats. They’re my best friends.”
“Hmmm.” Louise was never sweet on Kim and Nats. “So what do you think about staying with a black family? It wouldn’t be for long.”
“They got kids?” I asked.
“Yes, they have.”
“How old?”
“Sharyna’s ten and Pablo’s six. They were adopted. They used to be in the care system.”
“You were their social worker?”
“Yes. Please give me an answer, Naomi. I haven’t got all night.”
“Wanna wheel home before your boyfriend gets pissed on waiting for ya and hits on someone else?”
“Naomi!”
I thought about it. A black family. They’ll definitely be cooler than the Holmans. They might let me blaze a rocket. The mum might be able to put plaits in my hair like Solange Knowles. They could get my dancing on point. Might learn some top-ranking