‘OK.’
‘As for Ian Taylor, the police questioned him yesterday and he denied the accusations. But, because your medical examination proved certain things, the police will be charging him anyway. He’s been accused of a similar offence in the past, but the charges were dropped and the case never made it to court.’
‘I won’t have to go to court, will I?’
‘You’ll have to give some form of evidence. But hopefully you won’t have to stand in the dock or see your uncle.’
‘I can’t tell strangers what happened. I won’t.’
‘Look, don’t worry about that now. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, and you will have my support and Maureen’s every step of the way.’
Tommy spent the rest of the journey deep in thought. Just three months ago, he had a loving mum, two sisters who constantly squabbled over the record player, a beautiful dog, a man he called Dad and a woman he called Nan.
Now he had none of those things. They were all gone, in the blink of an eye.
Tommy had expected the children’s home to be a stark-looking property set in its own grounds. ‘Is this it?’ he asked, as the car stopped outside a big house on the corner of a street with lots of other houses.
‘Yes. You see those three properties?’ Maureen pointed. ‘Well, the council knocked them all into one to create this home. There are a few others in Dagenham, but this has a pleasant feel to it, Tommy. It’s more laid-back and the staff are nice too. I thought a mixed environment would be better for you than to be surrounded by all boys.’
Tommy was ushered inside the house by Maureen. PC Kendall, who had visited Tommy’s uncle’s home to pack up his clothes and belongings, fetched the suitcase out of the boot.
A plump, short lady and a tall, dark-haired man with a kind face greeted them. The man grinned. ‘Welcome to Maylands, Tommy. A little birdy told us it’s your thirteenth birthday today, so we thought we’d throw you a party later to mark the occasion. Not every day you become a teenager, is it? I’m Ray, by the way, and this here is Connie. We manage Maylands, so any problems – you come straight to one of us.’
A little lad wandered over. ‘I’m Kevin. What’s your name?’ he pried, tugging at Tommy’s sleeve.
Tommy spied a spotty-looking thin girl peering at him from around a doorframe, but she disappeared when he made eye contact with her. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I don’t want no birthday party this year.’ Tommy’s mum had always made a big fuss of his birthday and the thought of celebrating one without her did not appeal to him at all.
‘It’s nothing major, Tommy. We bought a couple of cakes and thought it might be a nice way of introducing you to the other residents. Most of them are at school at present and they all love cake,’ Connie chuckled.
‘I’d rather no one knew it’s my birthday,’ Tommy insisted.
‘No worries, lad. We understand,’ Ray replied. ‘Make our guests a cup of tea, Connie, while I show Tommy around.’
Maylands looked after children between eleven and sixteen years old, and Tommy was told he would be sharing a bedroom with another newcomer. ‘Benny only arrived here last week himself, so we thought it might be nice if you two shared. He’s half-caste. You OK with that?’
‘Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘I was just checking, as Benny had a tough time in the previous home he lived in. He was bullied because of his colour.’
‘How many lads actually live here?’ Tommy enquired.
‘Eleven at present, and nine girls. We like to think of ourselves as one big happy family here, Tommy. We are easy-going to a degree, but have a strict no-bullying policy. You are allowed to come and go as you please, provided you arrive home in time for dinner. That is served at 6 p.m. every day, including Sundays.’
‘So, can I go out on my own at weekends?’ A plan was already forming in Tommy’s mind. He’d find a local boxing gym and join it. He had money saved, mostly what the perve had given him.
‘Seeing as you are now officially classed as a teenager, yes, you can. We have a separate set of rules for the under-thirteens. But we don’t advise you going out alone. Most of the lads stick together, as do the girls.’
‘OK.’
Ray smiled. ‘Want to take a look at the games room?’
Tommy nodded politely. He couldn’t think straight. His head was all over the place.
When PC Kendall and Maureen left, Tommy unpacked his belongings and lay on his new bed. It was rock hard and when he inspected it further, the mattress had a plastic cover over it, which Tommy assumed was in case he pissed himself in the night.
He looked around the room. It was small with two single beds, two tiny chests of drawers, but he was drawn to the posters on the left wall. One was of the West Ham football team, but the others were sketches. One in particular caught his eye. It was a close-up of a dog’s face.
All of a sudden, the door burst open and a lad with a big Afro appeared. ‘You must be Tommy.’
Tommy sat up. ‘And you must be Benny.’
‘Yeah. I am. And believe me, you give me any shit, like my last roommate did, I will punch your fucking lights out.’
‘Why would I give you shit? I don’t even know you.’
‘Because I’m black.’
‘One of my best mates at my old school was black.’
Benny softened and held out his right hand. ‘Nice to meet ya, Tommy.’
‘Likewise.’
‘So, what’s your story?’
‘Whaddya mean?’
‘How did you end up here?’
‘My mum died and then I found out my dad weren’t me real dad. You?’ Tommy asked. Ray had reassured him that all his details would remain confidential and he was only to tell the others what he was comfortable with.
‘My mum didn’t want me living with her no more. She got a new bloke and me and him didn’t get on.’
‘That’s well bad.’
‘So is my mother, the dirty stinking whore.’
‘So, what’s it like in here? Ray and Connie seem all right.’
‘They’re OK. But don’t believe all that bullshit Ray told you on arrival. Did he mention the no-bullying policy?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, that’s bollocks. One of the lads tried to set fire to my hair on the way home from school last week. He is one nasty fucker.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘I ain’t no grass. You’ll find out for yourself soon enough. I’ve only been here a week and I know the rules already. Act sweet in front of Connie and Ray, and what happens outside of the home stays outside of the home. Got that?’
Tommy nodded, then pointed at the sketches on the wall. ‘They yours? I like the dog.’
‘That was my dog, Spike. I drew him myself.’
‘No way! That’s well ace. My dog has gone to live on a farm in Essex, but I’m gonna find out where and visit him soon. If I give you a picture of Rex, would you draw him too?’
‘There ain’t no such thing as a dog going to live on a farm in Essex, Tommy. Not in our world. That’s what we’re told when they kill ’em off.’
Tommy suddenly felt sick. ‘What?’
‘A