Morning is dawning and the sun is rising, chasing away the darkness.
Ace and I walk back to the house in a companionable silence that would have been unthinkable yesterday. We return by a different, shorter route, although not the shortest as that would have taken us right down the road the Prime Minister will travel very soon. Nevertheless, as we pause at a pedestrian crossing, a police car on patrol crawls past us. The policewoman in the passenger seat gives us a keen glance and my heart lurches. But the car moves on and doesn’t stop.
‘We won’t go to the police,’ I say quietly. ‘After you’ve gone, I mean.’
‘Your mum might feel differently,’ Ace replies. ‘She’ll do what she thinks is right.’
‘You’ve helped us.’ The words come out awkwardly, but Ace can’t miss the real gratitude in my voice. ‘If it wasn’t for you, I’d never have found out – all this. Everything would still be the same, but now . . . Well, things have to be different, don’t they?’
‘I hope so,’ Ace replies as we turn into our street.
‘What’s your real name?’ I blurt out. ‘Sorry, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.’
Ace hesitates for a moment, then shrugs. ‘Sarika,’ she replies. It suits her.
We reach the garden gate. Then I see the most amazing thing. A truly unbelievable, wonderful sight.
The front door is open. My mum is outside – outside! – standing in the porch, supporting herself on her sticks. Her face is terrified yet determined. Behind her I can see King, Jack and Queenie hovering anxiously, ready to catch her if she falls.
This is the furthest my mum has been out of the house for years.
I understand how much courage, willpower and effort it’s taken her just to get this far. I also know she’s done this for me, and me only. It is then I realize that love is a million times more powerful than hate.
So, despite everything, I break away from Ace and I run through the garden and Mum drops her sticks and we hug each other almost to death. The time for words is later.