Free Somewhere around the Corner by Jackie French

down no matter how big you are. And there’s no air on the moon so you have to wear this big suit to protect you.’
    Suddenly, Barbara noticed the faces of Ma and Young Jim staring from the lamp light, Dad and Elaine and the little ones in the shadows, all listening to her words.
    ‘Go on,’ said Dad quietly. ‘Tell us some more.’
    ‘I, um, what do you want to know?’
    ‘In this world around the corner,’ said Dad softly, ‘do all men have jobs? Are there susso camps in this fine world of yours?’
    ‘There’s unemployment,’ said Barbara, trying to think. ‘But it’s not like this, not so many people out of work. I don’t think there’s any susso camps. Not that I’ve heard of anyway.’
    ‘And everyone’s got houses, proper houses, not shacks like this, and those TV things you mentioned?’
    Barbara nodded. ‘Mostly.’
    ‘And are there doctors if you need them, and the kiddies go to school, all of them, not stuck away forgotten in a place like this, with no future in front of them, nothing for them, nothing…’
    ‘Dad!’ Ma grabbed his shoulders. ‘Don’t you scare the girl. I won’t have you speaking like that, you hear me? You’ve done your best for us. At least we’ve got a roof over our heads and full bellies. There’s plenty worse off than us.’
    Dad shook her off, still looking at Barbara. ‘It’s a poor comedown you’re at then, isn’t it? Down here with the likes of us. I don’t know what Young Jim said he was taking you to, but I reckon you didn’t count on this.’
    Dad waved his bony hand at the flickering lantern, the clay-daubed shack, the makeshift chairs and table. His scar flickered pink and red. ‘I reckon you wish you were back in your nice soft bed with school tomorrow and—’
    ‘Dad, don’t! Leave her alone!’ It was Young Jim’s voice, somewhere in the dimness, but it didn’t matter, her voice seemed to come all by itself. Thellie slid down her legs as she rose.
    ‘It wasn’t like that! It wasn’t!’ She was shaking. It seemed like her voice wasn’t hers. She didn’t want to…it couldn’t be her. ‘It was horrible. Horrible. I was living with Aunt Ellie, but she wasn’t my aunt, not really, it was just a foster home, then she got sick and I had to go back to Mum. Mum said she was off the drugs, she promised she was, she promised. But the first morning I found the syringe in the bathroom and I asked her, “Are you on smack again, are you?”, and she just laughed, and her friend laughed too. He was a new friend and he was horrible. He said things to me, horrible things. I was scared and I ran, but I didn’t know where to go. I slept that night in a used clothes bin for St Vinnie’s, but there were rats, then I found these kids, they were older than me, but they said they were on the streets too and I could stay with them and they were going to this demonstration. I didn’t know what it was about, but…’
    She couldn’t say anything more. She didn’t have to. Dad’s arm was around her shoulder and Ma was on the other side. Young Jim was patting her back and Elaine and the little ones were crying. Dad was muttering something that sounded like, ‘I’m sorry Bubba love, I’m sorry,’ and Ma was telling her that it was all right, everything was fine, and then Elaine trod on someone’s foot.
    ‘It’s like a blooming football scrum,’ complained Young Jim. Then Barbara laughed and everyone else started giggling. Dad gave her a final hug, then stepped back and looked at her, his face in shadow with the lantern light behind him.
    ‘But you went around that corner of yours, and came here,’ he finished for her.
    ‘And a good thing too,’ said Ma. ‘If I had my way I’d hang people who scare kids up with the washing and watch them wave in the breeze.’
    Barbara sat down again, her knees suddenly shaky. Thellie clambered onto her lap again and wound her arms around her neck. She held the small girl tightly.
    ‘It’s better here,’