Page 8 of Silver Tears

“Okay,” I say. “Are you hungry?”

She shakes her head. “Lenny bought me fish and chips. I told you. He’s a good one.” She lies her head back against the arm of the sofa and closes her eyes. “I’m tired.”

I grab a blanket from the armchair and place it over her. “Get some sleep. I’ll read Charlie his bedtime story and make his lunch for tomorrow.”

“You’re a good girl, Milly. My perfect girl,” she mumbles before she drifts off. I study her sleeping form for a second. Mum is an attractive woman, with a slim figure and blonde hair and hazel eyes. Today, though, she looks rough. Her eye make-up is smudged, and her hair looks like it could do with a wash. Leaving her to sleep it off, I head back into Charlie’s room.

“Mum’s home, but she’s sleeping,” I inform him as he hands me the book he’s chosen.

Charlie frowns, looking concerned. “Is she sick?”

“No, she’s not sick, Chops. She’s simply tired. She got held up at work, that’s all,” I lie. Better he thinks she couldn’t pick him up because of work than the real reason.

“Can you come live here with us?” Charlie asks me. “I like it when you’re here.”

I ruffle his hair playfully. “You know I can’t, Charlie Chops. Now, it’s getting late. Let’s read this story, huh?” Charlie moves over and makes room for me to lie down beside him, and I begin the story. By the time I finish, he is snoring away beside of me. I lean over him and press a kiss to his forehead. “Night, night, Chops.”

I sneak quietly out of his room. Turning on his nightlight and closing the door behind me. I head into the kitchen and make up some ham butties for his school lunch. I clean out his lunchbox and add in a yoghurt and an apple and stick his box in the fridge, ready for morning. Grabbing my mum’s phone charger out of her bedroom, I put her phone on charge on the floor by where she sleeps. I set the alarm to go off at seven in the morning and I save it to repeat three times just in case it doesn’t wake her the first time. Shit! It’s gone eight thirty. I quickly ensure the house is secure and lock up the front door. Running to the bus stop, I pray I haven’t missed it. There’s no sign of the bus when I get there, so I take a seat and pull out my phone. I text dad to say that I’ll be home soon.

Fifteen minutes later and there’s still no bus. I am royally screwed. I’d ring Ryan, but after earlier, I doubt he’d come back for me. Digging through my purse, I look if I have enough for a taxi, but I didn’t. I’d used the last of my money in my bank to buy the food for mum and Charlie. It’s getting dark too. I look up as I hear music pumping from a car stereo as it heads this way. This car looks far too nice for this neck of the woods. I stiffen when it slows down as it reaches the bus stop.

I pretend to be busy looking at my phone, hoping to give the message to the driver that I’m not interested in talking to them.

“Milly?”

Glancing up upon hearing my name, my eyes meet none other than Seb Collings. Of all people!

“Hey, Collings,” I say casually, like us meeting at a bus stop a few towns from the Bay isn’t unusual.

“What are you doing out here on a Thursday night?” he asks me, as he turns down the stereo so he can hear me speak.

“Visiting a friend,” I lie. “What are you doing in Droyton?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I had some errands to run.” Seb gestures to the bus stop. “I think you may have missed it. Hop in, I’ll give you a lift.”

I snicker in response. “No thanks. I’d rather wait for the next bus.” I do not want to get in a car with him. No, thank you.

“Mills, get in the car. It’s getting dark and pretty girls shouldn’t be sitting at bus stops waiting for some opportunistic pervert to come along.” He leans over and opens his passenger door. “Hop in.”

I bristle at him calling me Mills. “I’m fine waiting for the bus.”

Seb rolls his eyes and turns the car engine off. “Get in the car, or I’ll come and throw you in myself. Don’t be a stubborn idiot.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m no idiot, and my name is Milly, not Mills.”

He smirks at me. “I like Mills. Car, now. Or should I call your brother and let him know you’re on your own at a bus stop miles away from home?”

“No, don’t!” I plead, jumping to my feet. “Okay. I’ll get in your god-damn car. Happy?”

“Yes,” he replies, starting the engine as I climb inside. “What are you doing out here on your own at fifteen?”

“Almost sixteen. I’m sixteen in three weeks.” I don’t know why I feel the need to tell him this information. I think it got my heckles up him referring to my age like he is miles older than me. There’s less than two years between us.

“Okay, almost sixteen Mills. What are you doing out here?”

I sigh. He will not let up with the questions. “Visiting a friend. Who made you my keeper, anyway?”

He chuckles as we wait at a junction. “You’re very defensive tonight, Mills. Anyone would think you are up to something you shouldn’t be.”

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