Free A Stolen Childhood by Casey Watson Page B

somewhere more appropriate. As for the rest, it was probably too early to say.
    Which was fine. I felt a familiar rush of pleasure as I watched my little quartet troop out into the corridor, Tommy first, Jonathan second, the girls together, bringing up the rear. It was perhaps the silliest way of describing things imaginable, so it wasn’t something I’d ever share, but it was at this stage that I got the strongest sense that anything was possible; that in the children I’d been given a set of raw ingredients and that working with them as a group was like baking a cake. That together, provided I put my skills to good use, we’d create something even better than the sum of its parts. Well, sort of. I probably just needed another coffee.

Chapter 6
    During break, Gary Clark had called in to let me know that Thomas’s new timetable had been completed, and this meant that he would spend Mondays, Tuesdays and the first half of Wednesdays with me, and the rest of the week would go to normal lessons.
    ‘We’ve looked at the schedules and his mum is keen to see him do English, Maths and French – he’s apparently very good at languages,’ Gary explained. Then he laughed. ‘I wonder if she knows much of the language I’ve heard him using in the corridors since he’s been here …’
    ‘He’s not the only one,’ I said, ‘and I bet he’s certainly not the worst offender. I’ll let him know after break, then.’
    ‘Did you make any headway with him and Kiara?’ Gary asked.
    ‘Kiara doesn’t seem in the least bit fazed by any of it,’ I told him. ‘But I did notice Tommy was keeping his distance. I guess he never expected to be sharing the same class with her, poor kid.’
    Gary snorted as he got up to leave. ‘Poor kid? I’m not so sure about that. I think young Tommy can hold his own at our school, no worries.’
    I was pleased to see that after break the four students returning to me seemed to have spent their break time together. I always liked that. The children that came to me were so often the outsiders – quite literally, sometimes, as well. The ones who hovered at the edges of groups and playgrounds, never quite managing to break in, much less fit in. Not all of them, obviously. Some commanded huge retinues out in the world of ‘real’ school, but they tended to be the bullies and they did so for all the wrong reasons. This little lot didn’t fall into that category, however, and I had high hopes that they’d gain much from each other’s company. Had done already, it seemed. There was definitely a jovial atmosphere and they all seemed to be a lot more relaxed.
    ‘Back to your seats then,’ I called out above the chatter. ‘I took a look at your books while you were out and I see that you’ve been working well. It’s time for you to start working on your self-portraits now though, and remember, these will be going on the wall, so best efforts, please.’
    I then pointed to the two long sets of drawers along the side wall. ‘All the art materials you’ll need are in there so take out what you need and try to keep the drawers tidy.’
    I noticed that Chloe was trying, unsuccessfully, to hold Kiara’s hand as they walked across to the art materials, so I decided I’d do her life-space interview first, and give Kiara a break. ‘Chloe, love,’ I called, ‘time for our getting-to-know-each-other chat, sweetheart, okay? Let’s go sit in the quiet corner, shall we?’
    Chloe let go of Kiara’s cardigan sleeve, but not before giving it a gentle stroke with her other hand, and then followed me over to the book shelves.
    ‘I love Kiara, miss, she’s so pretty,’ was the first thing she said to me, as she sat cross-legged on one of the large floor cushions. ‘Tommy and Jonathan are nice too. Jonathan said I’m not allowed to call him Johnny, miss. Did you know that? I have another friend called Johnny, miss. I like that name.’
    ‘Well, that works out fine, then, doesn’t it, Chloe,