So Amy, what are you doing here in South Wales?
FFS! I stared around the interview room: Carpets, sofa, flowers — ok plastic flowers, the usual discreet tissues all designed to make it feel homelike. Idiots! Didn’t they fucking realise? I thought I’d try victim. TBH I’m tired of rebelling but I didn’t want to give in either. I just wanted what I can’t have! I rubbed my eyes and let slip a tear then reached for the discreet tissues. I made sure I had two to screw around with in my hands and then took a deep breath….
School’s been awful recently. Everyone is on my back. Teachers are more worried than me about my grades. Thing is I know I’m gonna do badly in science. And I can’t get my head around the maths thing. English Lang will be ok but I’m not sure about lit cause I can’t get the hang of the quotes and things. It’s just nag, nag ,nag; target, target, target, every, flippin day. I need a break. I didn’t ask to be dumped there. I’m a hundred and fifty miles away from where I was born! The valley’s a dead end place – literally. There’s no way out except the B road. I’m not allowed to go down the village unsupervised and the thing is, what they don’t realise is that the more they watch me, the more I want to escape. I’ve got to get away. In the old days I would’ve saved my dinner money but coz I’ve got a care package the money goes direct to the cashless account. They’ve even got my finger print! I pointed to the sheet on the cop’s table then shrugged.
So how did you get the cash together?
The first thing I did was make friends with Seren. It was quite easy really – she’s such a nerdy geek and lonely. A few questions about homework: Was Curley’s wife really a tart? How did she (Seren ) revise angles and shit? And how did she go about preparing for her speaking and listening stuff? It was pathetic really. I mean — no-one bothers with her, she’s so studious. Not allowed to mix with the kids from the town. I think she’s delicate. I know she has asthma and her glasses are coffee jar thick so that she needs to have textbooks enlarged and she has a helper. No-one wants to make friends with the helpers’ kids coz all the helpers do is listen in and report back; or worse still, they gossip amongst themselves.
I was dead careful as I laid my plans. “OOOH well done you for making friends… Well, Amy, its nice to see you finally making an interest … I hope its not too late ….” Everyone was so ‘encouraging’, like. I mean, way to make a girl feel positive about stuff.
It’s always been way too late. I was born too late to know my dad, and mum didn’t want to know. Dumped me with the oldies – his mum and dad – and then she buggered off. The oldies’ house was nice though. Not posh or anything. It had a long back garden with a swing. There was a ginger cat and Bamps always smelled of bacco. She was always making cakes so the kitchen smelled of cooking: Shepherds pie, sausage and chips, eggs and beans on toast. We always ate in the kitchen. Mamgu always said she wanted us to be a proper family.
Yes, but the cash, Amy. what about that?
My plan was quite simple really. Get an invite to Serens, Let them get to know me and I’d get to know them and where they kept things. It was fiver here, a bottle of wine from the weekly shop – they bought loads. I sold them on to some kids in year 10 after watering them down and rebottling them in recycled screw tops that once had cheap fizzy stuff in them. So when Mrs Lewis the helper said to me that Seren had complained to her about not getting any of her money back, I knew it was time to act. I stalled the helper with promises that I’d ask my care workers of the cash from my allowance. I googled the bus times in an IT lesson. The bus left at 8.14 – the same time I left for school. Ten hours door to door. I was well shattered!
Ok, so tell me now about the breaking and entering. Why did you break into no 4, Woodfield Terrace