don't want to go to school looking a mess. The girls will laugh at me."

  "Your hair is really, really lovely, Jayne."

  "No aunty, I hate my hair. I wish I was dead."

  "You have a lot to live for Jayne."

  "I hate School mum" and "I hate you for taking me there."

  "You need to get a good education girl."

  "I'll get a job in MacDonald's."

  "You will still need qualifications to work in MacDonald's."

  "Shut up, mum. My hair is shit. I'm not going anywhere with you. My hair is awful.

  "Don't you tell your mum to shut up, Jayne and don't you to be so disrespectful to your mother."

  "Why don't you straighten my hair, mum?"

  "Your hair doesn't need tonging, Jayne."

  "You did a rubbish job on my hair, mum. You always do."

  "Don't you speak so rudely to your mum, Jayne?"

  "I hate my hair and I hate going to school."

  "Your hair is beautiful niece and I really mean it."

  "Are you sure, aunt?"

  "Yes."

  "Is my fringe okay?"

  "Yes dear. We need to get going back to the school."

  "I don't want to go back to the school because the girls will be laughing at my hair. I hate school."

  "I'm your aunt and I will not make any girl laugh at your hair."

  "I hate my life. I wish I wasn't born. I want to kill myself."

  "You need to be more positive, Jayne."

  "Go to hell, mum."

  "Pardon me."

  "Jesus doesn't love me."

  "Jesus has always loved you, Jayne."

  "Don't be angry with everyone and start thinking positively about yourself."

  "I'm only joking with you, mum. Can't you take a joke?"

  "Get yourself ready Jayne we're going back to the school."

  A few minutes later they were heading towards the school at a fast pace. Jill, Naomi and Jayne walked into the school building and they went straight into the reception area.

  "Can I help you Mrs. Grant?" asked the school secretary.

  "We're here to see the Headmaster," replied Jill.

  "Have you got an appointment with Mr. Bates?"

  "No, just tell him Mrs. Grant wants a word with him."

  Mrs. Jones, the school secretary, spoke to Mr. Bates in his office and he came out straight away to greet Jill and the others.

  "Good afternoon Mrs. Grant, Jayne and Miss Brown," said Mr. Bates.

  "No. It is not a good afternoon and it will certainly be a day to forget," claimed Jill.

  "Do come in," said Mr. Bates.

  "Please stay in the reception area Jill and Naomi. We have some unfinished business to sort out, "said Jill.

  Jayne and Naomi wished they had learnt how to lip read. It would have been useful for them to work out what was being said in the room between Jill and Mr. Bates. They could tell from both body languages that they knew each other fairly well. They were familiar with each other and had a shared history. Jill was walking up and down the room pointing her index finger at Mr. Bates. Mr. Bates sat in a forwarded position in his black leather armchair with his elbows firmly rested on the desk. Suddenly, he held his head with both hands. Jill facial expression was scary. She slammed Mr. Bate's door behind her and left in a rage.

  The secretary of the school was afraid of Jill as she hid behind the glass barrier. She was polite enough to allow them out of the building by releasing the door.

  On the way back to the car, Jill was clearly upset and shaken. Jayne had never seen her mum looking so menacing since she was mistakenly sent the wrong tax returns.

  "What did you say to Mr. Bates, mum?"

  "Is everything okay, Jill?"

  "Don't you worry yourself, Jayne? It's sorted. Trust me"

  "Why did he have that picture of me, mum?"

  "I don't want to talk about it, Jayne."

  "We need to talk, sis."

  "We'll definitely talk later, sis. I'm too upset to talk to you now."

  "Okay, we talk about it later, Jill."

  Jill was unusually quiet on the journey back home. She didn't speak a word to anyone until they were a few hundred yards nearer to the house. She held Jayne hand gently and she reminded her that her granddad was arriving in England from Jamaica in a few days. She was looking forward to seeing her granddad. Naomi and Jill weren't overjoyed in meeting up with their dad again. The get-together was arranged by Jeff against their wishes. Their dad had walked out on them and their mum when they needed him most and the painful thoughts of their mother living in a care home made them feel even worse.

  "Drop me off home, Jill."

  "Can't you comeback to ours, aunty?"

  "It's been great seeing you both. But I'm getting a bit tired."

  "We have an extra bedroom and we would really love you stay with us, aunty."

  "I have truly enjoyed spending time with you both. But, I need to do something at home."

  "Can't we persuade you to have a slice of rum cake with us?"

  "That is going beyond temptation. I'll see you both later."

  "See you later, aunty."

  "See you later and don't you worry yourself. Your mum will explain it to you at the right time."

  "One day soon we'll visit you Aunty Naomi in Upper Ashworth."

  "That would be wonderful, Jayne. Bye sis."

  "Bye for now, Naomi."

  Thirteen

  Naomi couldn't get back to sleep. Her head was still spinning from the impact of yesterday's meeting with the council's senior social services staff. She remembered the stern expressions shown on their faces as the allegations were read out to her.

  Having found it difficult to sleep, Naomi decided to read a verse from the bible for the first time since her mum went into care. She anticipated that the death of Baby G would eventually hit every television channel across the world. Psalms 23 was a welcomed comfort for Naomi who had a Christian upbringing. It was her mum's favourite psalm. Mum used to recite verses of the psalms to her when she was a child.

  The stillness of the night was abruptly broken up by the neighbour's burly dog. The dog was barking furiously before Naomi had time to read the second sentence of the psalm. The sounds of shattering glasses and crashing furniture were heard above familiar screaming voices. It was the dreaded Malinowski family again who brought shame and disgrace to Upper Ashworth.

  The Malinowski's fought violently inside and outside of the house. It was astonishing how there were no fatalities. Mr. Malinowski and his son-law were at war with each other. Mr. Malinowski was a short, slim built man with silver hair. He was made redundant from British Leyland, once a leading car manufacturer in the West Midlands. He had not worked for the last ten years since leaving British Leyland. He went into the dog breeding business to make a living. He wanted to be his own boss without depending on anyone else.

  You expected him to behave more maturely but he was quite the opposite. He had a total disregard for the authorities. His home was raided frequently by the police. Most of the neighbours knew that Mr. Malinowski and his side kicking son in law were breeding dogs illegally and were up to no good. They were scared of them. Their names would often appear in the court section of the local newspaper. Together they were a selfish pair of villains but they cared passionately about the children in the area when they were both sober. It seems that they had far too much alcohol to drink as they celebrated their winnings from the dog fight in the early hours of Sunday morning. There was no holding them back until they had all fallen asleep into a coma.

  In the past, Mr. Singh, a Neighbourhood Watch Supporter, who lived on the estate, would have usually reported them to the police. But on this occasion he was unavailable. The Singh family was in Paris on holiday. For once the neighbours' just could not rely upon the Singh family to call out the police. Someone else had to take responsibility. It was the duty of all good citizens to support the Neighbourhood Watch. Naomi was so annoyed with the anti-soci
al behaviour of the Malinowski's that she contacted the police without any regards for her own safety. Several police cars arrived at their house within the next hour. The flashing of blue and white lights from the police cars illuminated the whole street. All the houses within 50 metres radius of the Malinowski's home were exposed. The neighbours peeped through the curtains to watch the whole commotion of the police arresting members of the family.

  The last time they had such drama and excitement on their street was when Mrs. Singh was warned by an undercover CID for blocking his car on the public space in front of her house. It was so funny. The CID wanted to go home but she wouldn't move her car until she saw his ID badge and she blown his cover. Apart from that incident, nothing ever happened in Upper Ashworth.

  The police men and dogs entered into the Malinowski's house. Then, there was a brief moment of tranquillity. They arrested Mr. Malinowski and his son in law inside of the house. The police handcuffed their wrists together. The handcuffs were partially covered with the perpetrators coats and they bungled them gently into the car.

  Mrs. Malinowski stood alone figure in front of her house. She watched tearfully as the speeding police car took away her husband and son-law and disappeared down the street. For a brief moment there was eye to eye contact between Naomi and Mrs. Malinowski. She struck her burned index finger up at Naomi in a defiant mood letting her know in no uncertain terms that Naomi was the source. Naomi didn't care. She had nothing else left to lose. She was willing to take on the whole world.

  Mrs. Malinowski walked slowly back to the house holding onto the handrails to lift her strong leg onto the next level of steps. Polio had left her right leg partially paralyzed as a kid in Poland. She was unhappy with her lot and despite all the
A.G Douglas's Novels