Read At My Door Online

Authors: Deb Fitzpatrick

At My Door (2 page)

I war-crawl back along the corridor, getting carpet burns on my elbows as I go.
Notepad!
I instruct my memory.

Once safe inside my room again, I make sure the door stays wedged open a crack so I can hear what's going on. I'm so glad Harry's not buzzing, because I want a chance to write a few things down in my notebook. I have lots of notebooks. I love them. All stationery, I love.

I go through a couple of karate moves while I'm thinking. It helps me focus. It's sort of like concentrating through moving. I like karate
a lot. After a moment I fall onto the bed to scribble down some thoughts.

Then I lie still on my bed, straining to hear as much as possible.

I can hear the sounds of teaspoons in mugs, like the
ding ding ding
of the triangle when we do music with Mrs Stone. She's a hippie and the triangle is in everything we play, even in hip-hop.

In the lounge, they've stopped talking.

Harry buzzes rudely.

‘
Shhhh
!' I hiss into the intercom. ‘They'll hear you!'

‘What's going on, Flop? Your reports are insufficiently frequent. I need an update – now!'

I don't reply.

‘Flops? It sounds like R2-D2 is in the lounge – what
is
that?

He's getting nothing. I let go of the button.

‘FLOPPY! I neeeeeed you,' he whines, trying a different approach. ‘I can't leave my room without being seen by everyone – I'm relying on you for intelligence!'

Ha!
I think in his direction.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz,
Harry buzzes.

I press my receive button, but stay silent.

‘Okay, Pops, okay, I get it, it's a P thing. P-PP-Pops. Popster. Poppy Pop Pop. Can you give me an update – please, little sis?'

I take a breath. ‘The police are here.'

‘The cops?'

‘Yes, the cops! They've got those radio thingies – I think that's what sounds like R2-D2. Mum's just made them tea.'

‘That'd be right. Have a cup of tea, even in the middle of a massive drama. So, hang on – why are the cops here?'

‘Some baby – a girl – really small – has been
dropped off here, on her own. At the front door. Without her parents.'

‘What?'

‘I guess she's been … abandoned. Or maybe she ran away? I'm going back out there.'

‘Are you nuts? Mum will go ballistic if she sees you, you know that. Do you have any idea how late it is?'

‘I don't care, Harry, I'm on a mission. There's a lost kid in our lounge room!'

I hear him say something else but by then I've got my notepad and pen and am commando-crawling back down the corridor.

This time I position myself so that I can see more of what's going on, though they can't see me because I'm low down and in the shadow of the wall. Anyway, Mum and Dad only ever come to our rooms after lights-out when they're on their way to bed themselves. And they're nowhere near going to bed tonight.

Mei is sitting on the old couch, a yellow
plastic cup wobbling in her hand. Mum and Dad are on the new red couch and the police officers are on a couple of chairs brought in from the kitchen. The policeman has his notebook open on his knee. His notebook has a plain black cover. Kind of boring. No owls or anything.

The policeman puts his mug down on the coffee table and says to the policewoman, ‘I'll call Family Services now. They'll have to arrange a place for her to stay.'

Mum looks up and says, ‘But she can stay here tonight. Where she already is. It's too late to move her, surely …'

‘Well, that's very kind of you, Mrs Campbell, but there's a protocol in these situations and we have to follow it —'

‘We have our own two children here, Harry and Poppy, and plenty of space. And she
was
left here …'

‘Yes, but —'

Mum shifts forward on the couch. ‘And I have a Working With Children Check card.'

Which is when the policewoman says, ‘Look,' and tilts her head toward the old couch.

‘Would you look at that,' Dad says quietly.

I crane forward, and Mei's asleep, crumpled into her blanket like a soft toy, the yellow cup leaning to one side.

‘Ohhh little one,' Mum says, and goes to her. She slides the cup out of her hand and brings the blanket around her more comfortably. Then she reaches for a cushion and puts it on the open side of her body, so she's snugged in.

Dad gets up and dims the lights. ‘Surely she can stay here tonight, while you look for her family.'

The policewoman looks at him, then at Mei, and says, ‘And it looks like she's comfortable with that, too.'

My eyes are golfballs. Far out, brussel sprout. We have a guest for the night.

I scurry back to my room like a spider to its web, and rap on the wall. Harry buzzes.

‘She's staying the night!' I report.

‘No way. Are you serious?'

‘Yes! Deadly!'

‘Wow.'

‘I know.'

‘I wonder how long she'll stay.'

‘Probably just tonight by the sound of it.'

I wonder what they're talking about now. I can't bear what I might be missing – crucial information!

‘I need to get back out there, Harry.'

‘You only just got back!'

‘I know!'

‘One of these times they're bound to catch you. And then there'll be
consequences
.'

‘I don't care. I'm going.'

This time I wrap my stripey dressing-gown around me, and tie the belt tight to keep it close. I'm getting cold, spending this much time out of bed. As I creep out of my room I take a look at the clock: 11.30. Holy guacamole! And it's a school night.

As I approach the lounge room the policeman is saying, ‘We'll have to get permission from the station for her to stay here.'

‘Yes, of course,' Mum says. ‘We'll do everything we can to help Mei feel comfortable and safe while this is sorted out.'

‘Thanks, Mrs Campbell.' He pauses. ‘Do you think you've ever seen her before? Around the neighbourhood?'

‘I haven't,' said Dad, ‘but I'm at work every day.'

‘No, I don't recall ever seeing her either,' Mum says. ‘And I'm often out walking Pixie —'

‘Our dog,' Dad explains, sounding embarrassed.

‘— yes, our dog,
Pixie
, I walk her twice a day, and I can't recall seeing Mei at the park. Or being pushed in a stroller on the way to the shops.'

Pixie, having heard her name, trots in and nudges Mum's hand.

‘She might not be from around here,' the policewoman says, smiling at Pixie. ‘The child, I mean. Mei.'

‘So why bring her to us?
Why us
?' Dad says. ‘Isn't this what the kids call
random
?'

Mum snorts.

The policeman says, ‘It might be completely random. Or, it might be that they've had their eye on you for a while – if it's been planned, that is.'

‘Planned?' Mum gasps. ‘
Their eye on us?!
How could you ever plan such a thing?'

‘Mrs Campbell, sometimes families in trouble do desperate things,' the policewoman says. ‘Maybe they felt that Mei was safer with another family.'

Desperate? In trouble?

‘There could be financial difficulties,' the policeman says.

‘Or a physical threat. Abuse, perhaps. Or some sort of criminal activity that put the child in danger,' the policewoman suggests.

Abuse? Criminal activity?
My mind is popping. I don't think I want to hear this stuff. This poor little kid! I stand up in shock, and blow my cover.

‘Poppy?' Mum leans around the corner. ‘Oh, Pops, how long have you been there?'

I smile weakly, not sure if I'm about to get told off.

‘Oh, love, are you okay?' She reaches out and
gathers me in. ‘We have a very … surprising situation on our hands here.'

‘I know,' I croak, looking at the green blanket baby ball on the couch. ‘Is that … her?'

‘Yes,' says Dad. ‘Her name's Mei. Do you recognise her?'

I feel alarmed. Am I part of the investigation?

Dad quickly says, ‘Mum and I don't think we've seen her before, but perhaps you have?'

I look at the police officers. They just look like normal people in police costumes. In other clothes they could be … teachers at our school, or people at the shops, or anyone. Their radios chirp in the background.

I look at Mei.
I've never seen her before
, I think straight away. Then I look back at the police. ‘No, I don't recognise her.'

The policewoman smiles kindly at me. ‘Thanks, Poppy – it is Poppy, isn't it? That's really helpful. How old are you, love?'

‘Ten,' I say.

She looks at me and grins. ‘Double digits, hey?'

I nod. Yes indeedy.

‘I wonder if she's wearing a nappy,' Mum says, her eyebrows furrowing. She leans over towards Mei, and pats her bottom gently. ‘Well, that answers that,' she nods. ‘But we're going to need more of those. There's a late-night chemist up on Carrendon Street, I'll whiz over there.'

‘No, I'll go,' says Dad.

She nods, and takes a breath. ‘Thanks, love. What else will we need?'

‘What about a bottle, Mum?' I say.

‘Yes, Poppy, yes, good thinking. Though she did drink from that cup earlier … but she might like a bottle if she wakes in the night. Oh, now,
would she drink formula still? Hmm. She drank all the milk I gave her. Maybe just get a small tin of formula for toddlers too, love, okay?'

Dad nods. ‘So that's nappies – toddler size, a bottle, and formula for toddlers.'

‘How old do you think Mei is?' asks the policewoman.

‘Two-ish?' Dad suggests.

‘I think a little younger.' Mum rubs her hand back and forth across her forehead. ‘It's hard to tell. Possibly eighteen months. Far too young to be without her mother.' She puts her arm around me and pulls me over.

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