The Hoax by Paul Clayton

Author:Paul Clayton [Clayton, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781914083051
Publisher: Paul Clayton
Published: 2021-03-17T06:38:16+00:00

Chapter Forty-Two

The day after Lottie left her, and while her stomach was still curdled with despair, Little Girl met her new foster parents. She sat in Mr Dale’s office, knuckles white from clenching her fists too hard. Her hunched body exuded animosity. Mr Dale started to explain the situation. ‘These very kind people want to look after you. They want you to become part of their family.’

The couple smiled at her. They might have been picking up a puppy from a rescue home. Little Girl’s face was red with suppressed rage; when Mr Dale touched her on the shoulder, she swung round ready to snap. But her strength had gone. She was alone here now and her heart told her that being here without Lottie was not what she wanted. She turned back to the couple sitting in the chairs in the window and pushed her face into a smile.

***

After her new foster parents, Erich and Marta, had filled in all the forms, attended all the interviews and were deemed suitable, one Friday afternoon they took her to a flat in the city. She had her own bedroom and they looked after her extremely well, yet from the beginning she knew something was wrong. Erich seemed utterly unconcerned with her. Given how her father had acted towards her so many years ago, that didn’t bother Little Girl – but it did make her wonder why he and Marta had chosen to foster someone. She’d always thought that if she was lucky enough to get foster parents, they’d be people who genuinely wanted her to be part of their family.

Erich was Dutch and she couldn’t help thinking he looked like an older version of the guy in a film who’d been the robot. Handsome but craggy, with the fearsome gaze of a tiger. Looking at her, he constantly made her feel as though she had done something wrong.

Erich worked in international finance and said he lived in London in the flat where she was staying, but Little Girl started to doubt that. The flat had remarkably little furniture and there were few belongings. It was uncomfortably large, more of a hotel foyer. There was a polished concrete floor, white walls and a set of cream furniture on which Little Girl was hesitant to sit. There was room here for dozens of children, yet she doubted if even one would be welcome. She was due to spend a weekend with them before an appointment on the following Monday with a new social services officer.

On the Saturday, Marta took her shopping. They bought lots of clothes – bright clothes, expensive clothes, clothes for a holiday. It was so long since she’d been anything new that Little Girl didn’t complain. Marta seemed happy to hand over a credit card at every opportunity, and Little Girl took great pleasure in collecting more and more bags.

Marta dressed with tremendous style; that was the first thing Little Girl had noticed about her. Her blonde hair was swept back from her face, she wore very little make-up, but she was striking.

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