By Anya Peters
A heartbreaking actual tale of 1 little girl's seek to discover a spot she may possibly name home.
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Extra resources for Abandoned : the true story of a little girl who didn't belong
The others were frightened of him too, of course. But not always. They were frightened of the drink in him; but when he sobered up they forgot how frightened they were of him when he was drunk and he became their dad again. Sometimes, after the worst of the arguments, he’d come home the next day with a new china ornament to replace the ones he’d smashed, or a brass one to try to win Mummy around, and a bag of pick ‘n’ mix he’d hand to Stella with orders for her to share them out ‘evenly’, which included me.
Even if it was near the end of the programme we were watching, just when we were about to find out what happened, I had to go with her. Mummy would try to make her wait, or tell her to go on her own. ‘She’s old enough to go on her own now,’ she’d say, if my uncle was in the right mood. ‘No, I want Anya to come,’ Stella would insist. I couldn’t say anything in front of my uncle, and she knew it. So I would have to lie in bed thinking about the programme the others were still watching, trying to guess what happened next.
I probably believed her the first few times. I stopped believing everything after a while. When everyone was at home, there were nine of us, including Mummy and my uncle, so you could never be on your own unless you were being punished. In a way I liked it when I was sent outside and all the sound stopped and I could think of things, or of nothing at all. For a while he used to send me to the bedroom the five of us younger ones shared, and it was nice because I could read. Although once, when I lay on the bed happily reading a book, chewing a Black Jack I’d found in the lining of Sandra’s jacket, he caught me and laid into me, tearing the book away and ripping out its pages.