My Dad's a Policeman Read Online Free Page A

the trouble with being my age: the world is full of pervs like him.
    Two minutes later and, to my relief, the 247 bus came into view. All the lights were on and it looked so warm and welcoming. I’ve never been so pleased to see a bus before. I was going home. It drew to a halt and the doors swished open. I stepped on to the platform and dug my hands into my trouser pockets. It was then I realised I’d left the £8.50 under the pillow at Libby’s!
    ‘Bollocks!’ I cursed. Then to the driver: ‘I’ve left me money at home.’
    He tutted. ‘You’re a bit young to be out this late.’
    ‘I’ve been visiting a sick relative,’ I lied.
    He tutted again. ‘I’ve seen you before on the buses, with your brother. You live on the Pellinger Park estate, don’t you?’
    ‘Yeah. That’s where I’m going. Sorry, can I pay you another time?’
    He was a decent guy and I guess he felt sorry for me. He nodded. ‘Hop on.’
    ‘Thanks, mister. I’ll pay you as soon as I can.’

Chapter Five
    Half an hour later the bus pulled into the terminus at the end of my estate, and me and a woman with a bloke got off. I vaguely knew the woman but she was too busy necking with the bloke to notice me. I’d never been out alone on the estate this late before; only the crackheads with their dogs were out now. It was dark, even with the street lamps on, and I ran flat out, taking the short cuts down the alleys, until I got to my row of houses. It’s called Conker Terrace, although there’s not a tree in sight. I live at number nine. I went round the back – we always use the back door, although I knew Mum would have locked it by now.
    The light was on in the living room and, as I looked through the window, I could see Mum sitting on the sofa staring at the telly, but it wasn’t switched on. She was so still and starey that for a moment I thought she might be dead. But then I saw the empty bottle by her chair and realised it was the drink. I tapped on the glass and she jumped. As she turned I saw the pain and fear in her eyes in the second before she saw it was me. Then it changed to relief and a different sort of pain – like her heart had been broken in two.
    ‘Ryan!’ she cried as she opened the door, flinging her arms around me. ‘Ryan, my baby!’ She squeezed and hugged me for all she was worth. I smelt the booze and felt her unsteady on her feet. I wrapped my arms tightly around her and buried my head in her shoulder. I knew she wasn’t perfect, but she was my mum and I loved her dearly.
    We went inside and she shut and locked the door. Then we stood hugging for some time. She was the same height as me but thinner; the booze saw to that – she never ate. After a while I felt her pull away. Although she’d been drinking she wasn’t drunk, her words weren’t slurred and her mind was astute.
    ‘How did you get here, son?’ she asked, anxiously.
    ‘Bus.’
    ‘From where?’
    ‘Other side of town. Didn’t they tell you where they were taking me?’
    Mum shook her head and her brow creased. ‘All they told me was that you’d be safe and well cared for, and that was all I needed to know. The social workers said you’d be put with carers in the area so that you could go to the same school. There were two of them: Duffy and someone new.’
    ‘Mum, where’s Tommy?’
    She shook her head again, and tears sprang to her eyes. ‘They wouldn’t tell me. They said he would be staying in the area but at a different address to you. I said if the social had to take you both into care, then couldn’t they keep you together? They said it wasn’t possible, that they didn’t have a carer who could take both of you, and anyway it was better if you were apart.’ She was crying openly now, and looked so tired and old – far older than she should have done. She was only thirty-three but already had lines and grey hair – a mixture of booze, fags and worry, I guess.
    I suddenly felt shivery and dizzy, like I might faint.
    ‘You