SCOWLY CLOUDS

Liz came to visit. She came every week like she used to. I thought maybe she wouldn’t after what I did to Grace, but she still did.

When Liz came to visit while I lived with Jim, I was mostly nice to her, but when she came to visit at Andy and Chris’s I was horrible. I shouted at her, and threw things in her face, and called her all sorts of names. I thought after what I tried to do to Maisy, she’d finally have realized what sort of person I really was, but she didn’t seem to have got it. Maybe she was stupider than I thought.

She took me for a walk in the park. It was wet and windy and muddy and cold, and although it wasn’t actually raining, there were big scowly clouds looming miserably over everything.

“I wonder,” she said, as we tramped through the wet trees. I groaned. “I wonder if you’re angry with me because you’re ashamed of what happened to Grace. I wonder if you’re ashamed because the placement broke down, and you’re frightened that I’m going to be angry with you too.”

“Leave me alone!” I said, but she wouldn’t.

“I wonder if you know that I love you,” she said. “And if you know how sad I am that you’re so unhappy.”

“I’m fed up with love,” I said. “Nobody ever loved me.”

“I do,” said Liz. “And I don’t think I’m the only one, either.”

“Then why does everyone always leave me?” I said.

Liz didn’t answer. I didn’t really want her to. We tramped through the mud, and the brown-paper leaves which were beginning to fall from the trees. Tramp. Tramp. Tramp.

“Jim never wants to see me again,” I said, looking at her out of the corner of my eye.

“Now, I know that’s not true,” said Liz.

I didn’t answer.

“Have you told him how sorry you are?” said Liz. “Have you told him you want to try living with him again?”

But I shouldn’t have to tell him that. He should know without me saying.

“He won’t let me live there again,” I said. “He’ll say no. Because of Harriet.”

“Well,” said Liz, “that might happen. You need to be prepared for that to happen. But if he doesn’t know that you want to try again, how can he decide if he’s willing to try too? You should tell him.” I stopped walking. I was almost crying. I turned away so that Liz wouldn’t see. She took my face in her hands and moved it towards her own. Her hands were gentle, but her voice was firm. “Tell him,” she said.