Читать книгу Trapped: The Terrifying True Story of a Secret World of Abuse онлайн | страница 30

‘Blwah, ew!’ The retching started.

‘Right, let’s go, right now.’

Several heads turned as I slipped my arm around Phoebe’s waist, propelling her towards the checkouts. Shoppers from all angles eyed the pair of us as if we carried some contagious disease. An elderly gentleman stood at the end of our aisle, two bags of shopping planted either side of his feet. He stared openly as we approached. Phoebe squirmed and fought me off, still gagging grotesquely. It was an awful, stomach-churning noise and I felt myself reddening with all the attention being focussed on us.

‘Goodness, your daughter’s clearly out to lunch, my dear,’ the old gentleman whispered loudly in the way old people seem to do, his eyes twinkling with sympathy. ‘It must be very difficult for you.’

Until fostering I had never realised how rude some people could be. I glanced at Phoebe, wondering the effect such thoughtless words would have on her. Fortunately she seemed to be switching her attention elsewhere. Nodding grimly to the elderly customer, I was about to pay for the milk and guide Phoebe out of the shop when I realised that she had spotted the confectionery shelves.

‘Please may I have some chocolate?’ she asked, her eloquence incongruous with her unrefined appearance.

Were it not for the fact that she looked as if she might be in danger of snapping in half right there in the middle of the shop, I would have marched her home empty-handed. As it was, I felt desperate to get some calories inside her, in whatever form I could.

‘Yes, choose something quickly then,’ I told her.

Outside the shop, Phoebe removed the wrapper from her Twix bar, discarding it casually over her shoulder. She was about to tuck into the chocolate when I caught hold of her wrist.

‘Wait a minute, honey. Go and pick up your litter and put it in the bin first.’

‘You do it.’

‘No,’ I said calmly. ‘It’s your wrapper, not mine. You need to pick it up now, before it blows away.’

‘No, leave it there. The bin men will get it when they come.’ Her tone was dismissive. All at once she shoved a third of the bar in her mouth, her cheeks bulging.


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