‘Yeah? Well, I have a little theory too.’ His eyes were like laser pointers at a forensics lecture. ‘People who pretend to be someone they’re not do it because they’re afraid people won’t like the real version of them.’ He rose from the chair and scooped up his jacket from where he’d left it. ‘Come on. It’s time to go.’
Abby remained silent on the drive back to her flat. Not that Luke addressed any comments to her. He was as taciturn as usual. What right did he have to analyse her? He didn’t know squat about her. He didn’t know how hard it had been for her growing up. How embarrassing it was to have grown up in foster homes, never knowing when you were going to be moved on to another family, another school, and trying to make friends with people who already had enough friends.
Her life had been one long struggle to fit in.
To be normal.
Luke might be a little screwed-up about his parents’ divorce but at least his dad hadn’t tried to kill someone. His mother hadn’t slept with men for money while her little daughter was nearby. His mother hadn’t then died of an overdose and left him in the deadlocked flat until someone found him the following day.
That was Abby’s life story. The script she couldn’t change, no matter how hard she tried. She was always being left to fend for herself.
What right did Luke have to criticise her? She liked who she was. She was a good person. She had friends, a job and a roof over her head.
But when Luke turned the corner into Abby’s street she had to rethink the roof over her head bit. There were gas technician vans and two police cars with lights flashing and an ambulance outside her block of flats as well as a circle of nosy onlookers being ushered back by the police. ‘Oh, my God, w-what’s going on?’ Her voice shook with shock.
Luke wound down his window when a police officer came over. ‘What’s happening?’
‘There’s been a major gas leak,’ the officer said. ‘The building’s been evacuated until further notice. That section of the road is closed.’ He pointed to a detour sign. ‘You’ll have to take a right over here.’
‘But I live in that building!’ Abby leaned across Luke to speak to the police officer.
‘You can’t go home until the problem’s been sorted,’ the officer said so firmly it sounded like it had been underlined.
‘How long will it take?’ Abby asked.
The officer gave a shrug. ‘There’s been no announcement made as yet. You’ll have to check the gas company’s website for an update.’
‘But I need to get some clothes and stuff.’
‘Sorry. The area is cordoned off until further notice.’
Abby sat back in her seat with a slump of her shoulders. ‘Great. Now I’m homeless. Go me.’
Luke wound up the window and drove to the detour. ‘I’ll book you into a hotel. You can stay there until things are back to normal.’
‘I can’t afford a hotel,’ Abby said. ‘And I absolutely refuse your offer to pay for it if that’s what you’re thinking.’
He pulled the car over to a parking bay further along the street they were on and turned to look at her. ‘What about calling Ella? She might be able to put you up for a few days.’
Abby gnawed at her lip. ‘I can’t stay with her. It’s too far to travel for work.’
‘What about your family? Don’t they live somewhere in London?’
Abby looked out of the window. It was at times like this that it hit her all over again how different her life was from everyone else’s. She had no bolthole. No safe harbour to bunk down until a crisis was over.
She was totally alone.
‘I can’t stay with them. Their house is too small.’
Abby sensed rather than saw his frown. ‘But I thought you told Ella they live in a big mansion in—?’
She sent him a sideways look. ‘I lied, okay? They live in a council flat in Birmingham.’
‘Why’d you lie about that?’
‘Because…because they’re not even my family…’ Abby blew out a sigh. ‘They’re my foster family.’
There was a silence, broken by the rumbling of the car’s idling engine.
‘Your foster family?’ Luke’s voice was a mixture of concern and surprise. ‘Where are your parents?’
She gave him a weary look. ‘Believe me, you don’t want to know.’
His frown was so deep his eyebrows made a black bridge over his eyes. ‘How long did you live with a foster family?’
‘The last one for six and a half years, and that was the longest I stayed anywhere,’ Abby said. ‘The ones before that, four and two years respectively, and the ones before that a few months at a time… I’ve been in the foster care system since I was five.’ She didn’t mention the six months she’d spent living with her father before she was taken into permanent care.