Lisa Heathfield - Seed

‘Your dad?’

Ellis stands up, brushing leaves from his jeans. ‘Aren’t I meant to be in the work barn?’

I think Kate has finished her questions because she gets up, sandals in her hands. As she makes her way out of the woods, we follow.

I watched the red car as it drove up the long, winding drive. A woman got out, a girl, a young man. And I wanted to shout to them and break my window glass. Run! I wanted to scream. Run while you still can. But my dry mouth stayed clamped shut.

Flickers of memories reach me. They lick around my shadow and slip inside. My mother, my sister and me, driving up that drive. But before, before that. In a shop, where I had wanted the blue shoes with the rainbow strap. My weary mother and the stranger who came up.

‘Are you all right?’ he had asked her.

‘I’m fine,’ she answered. But she wasn’t, and somehow he knew.

‘You look unhappy,’ he said, and touched her arm. He was younger than my mother. His face was warm and handsome, but already I didn’t like him.

‘I’m fine,’ she said again.

‘Really?’ He persisted. ‘I can help you.’ And that was all it took.

The next day, we were driving up this same drive, with everything we owned in the back of our car.

The next day, everything changed.

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