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off for years, in holidays, after school or at weekends. Sometimes it was other families. One more to look after didn’t make a difference. Other times it was just neighbours. I remember one. There was a bloke who lived near us who used to sit on his front step dipping bread in milk and whisky. Looking back, nothing about him makes you think ‘perfect childminder material’. Even then I remember being disappointed whenever I was dragged round there. People without their own kids don’t have any toys for you to play with. Most likely you’re just going to mess up their place. ‘Don’t touch that’, ‘Put that down’ – that’s all I ever heard. You wonder what’s in it for them. My only real memory of being at this bloke’s is waking up in his bed in the afternoons. I don’t recall being put down for a nap or any of the build-up. I don’t recall anything apart from his cups of bread and whisky and then waking up in his smelly bed every time I stayed.
    I never went to America but Nan and I did go down to Bognor to stay for a week during the holidays. This was when Mum and Dad were working. Then once a year, in summer, we’d all go down to the Butlin’s holiday camp nearby as well. Dad, Mum, Lorraine and me. I always had fun but the days used to whizz by. A week felt like a day. I loved the amusement arcade but Lorraine preferred the swimming pool. I often used to go along with her but never made it in. I’d pack my costume, grab my towel and go along to the baths but never get in. Not once. I remember wandering back to the chalet the first time and Mum asking if we’d enjoyed it.
    I said, ‘I didn’t go in in the end.’
    ‘Don’t listen to her,’ Lorraine piped up. ‘She was in there longer than me.’
    ‘You liar! I wasn’t.’
    ‘Were so.’
    And so it went on. I thought, Why on earth would my sister make up something like that?
    It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. My life was full of stupid arguments like that. For me it was normal.
    Like so many things.

CHAPTER THREE
    Where am I now?
    Katie skipped into the room, her head full of possibilities for adventure. With so many people around, the potential for games was endless. Any three-year-old knew that. She bashed around the adults’ legs for a while, ignoring the random hands tousling her hair absent-mindedly as they carried on their conversations above her head. On the other side of the room she saw her older sister, Lorraine. Lorraine was usually nice to her. Apart from the times she told her to go away. Katie decided to run over and say, ‘Hi.’
    ‘And where do you think you’re going?’ a voice said.
    Katie felt herself being scooped up and lifted aloft. Like a trophy on display.
    All eyes in the room were on her. People were cooing, family, friends and neighbours equally impressed by her pretty dress and neat hair. She didn’t know the occasion but everyone seemed so happy. Just as she had been until a few seconds ago.
    A camera flash went off. She felt like she was flying. Any other time she would be whooping for joy. What toddler didn’t enjoy that sensation?
    The flying stopped. She was being brought closer for a hug.
    Don’t touch me, she thought. Don’t touch me.
    But what could she do? She was a child. She was three. And she always did what she was asked. Those were the rules. Obey, obey, obey. However much it hurt.
    The strong arms holding Katie aloft wrapped around her and various ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ peppered the friendly hubbub of the room. Katie didn’t care. Her hands remained rigidly at her side until she was able to fold her arms. That would put a barrier between them. Her face stayed turned away. There was no way she was hugging back. Too many memories of that other person. She wouldn’t kiss. Not again. Not after last time.
    L ife was getting more confusing by the day. Did I tell anyone? Of course not. You assume everyone else is going through the same things as you. No one thinks