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Present Day

Amelia was nervous. She didn’t like publicity and hated how her recorded voice sounded. Somehow she always managed to detect the faint trace of strong accent that lingered, or re-emerged when she happened to be speaking to someone from back home.

The reporter was due any moment and she nervously fiddled with her hair in the mirror and then in a moment of panic rushed into the bathroom having spotted an errant eyebrow hair sticking out. She didn’t fuss normally but there were going to be pictures taken as well and she had a sinking feeling as a result. She hated having her picture taken.

Sammy was running up and down the hallway on his little bike, which made her doubly nervous as he was likely to either knock something over, break something or damage himself and as he was in his best outfit, that was likely to get torn up as well. She muttered under her breath and for the tenth time that morning called out to him.

He sheepishly appeared on the bike, with the trainer wheels on, which in theory should prevent him falling off, however, he had already proved several times that they didn’t always work. She should have known her child would be adventurous and a risk-taker.

“I’ve told you no bike this morning, we’re having visitors. Go and sit with Daddy until they arrive.”

Sammy looked a little forlorn and didn’t understand why he had to be virtually tied down. “Can I play video games?” He asked.

“Yes, that’s fine.” For once Amelia was happy for him to be sat in front of the TV. Amelia followed him into the den and found her husband reading the paper. “Can you put Sammy’s bike away just so he doesn’t tear up the house,” she rolled her eyes and raised her arms in a helpless manner.

“You are getting all worked up for nothing you know,” David replied. “It’s not the first time you’ve been interviewed.”

“I think the last time was by a cop though, there’s a difference!” She exaggerated as always when she was stressed.

David laughed at her, shook his head and stood to put Sammy’s bike in the garage. “Stop worrying, everything will be fine, you look lovely.” He leaned to kiss her and squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.

David was only gone for a minute and as he was about to come in from the hallway he stopped. “I think they’re here.”

Amelia hadn’t heard the doorbell, but David was already going to the front door.

“I can see them from the window. Van and a car pulling in now,” his voice got quieter as he got further away.

She breathed deeply. No turning back now. Adjusting her legs one last time, Amelia turned and followed David to the door. He was already stood with it open.

“Do you know this reporter?”

“I know of her,” Amelia answered his question. “She’s on the evening news most nights.”

“That’s where I know her from. I didn’t know she was in a chair though.”

“Car accident I think, before she was a reporter.”

Amelia watched the blond woman get herself out of the black saloon car and into her compact little ultra-lightweight wheelchair. It was pretty similar to her own. Nervously, she once more adjusted her legs in an unconscious move that David recognised as nerves.

“Stop fidgeting,” he grinned.

“It’s alright for you; it’s me she’s here to interrogate.”

“I’d hardly call it interrogation; they’re giving you an award for goodness sake!”

She huffed and crossed her arms so at least she wouldn’t be tempted to mess with her legs again.

The reporter glanced up the drive and waved but didn’t start towards the house immediately. Instead she turned to the crew who had started getting out of the van. She had a conversation for a few moments and then headed up to the house. As she got closer, she waved again and Amelia plastered on her fake smile to match David’s genuine one.

“This is one job where I don’t need to worry about getting in the front door,” the reporter grinned and as she wheeled up to the woman she was here to see held out her hand for Amelia to shake. “Nice to finally meet you after all those phone calls.”

“Thanks, you too. Can you wait for the crew honey?” she asked David who waved them into the house after shaking the reporter’s hand as well. “Come on through to the den.” Amelia led the reporter to the cosy living room where the family spent most of their time.

“This is my son Sammy,” Amelia introduced her four-year-old to the woman.

“Hi Sammy, my name’s Kim.”

Sammy was a bit shy to begin with and immediately ran to his mother and put his arms around her and hid his face as he did so.

“I don’t usually have that effect on children,” Kim grinned at Amelia with the most perfect white teeth.

“Don’t worry, he’ll some round. He’s only pretending to be shy, aren’t you?” She looked down at the top of his dark curly hair. The only response she got was a shake of the curls, but no sign of his face.

Kim was given a tour of the house and the two women chatted enthusiastically, forgetting the nerves, but when eventually they sat in front of the camera ready for the interview to begin, Amelia’s memory of the past was dredged to the surface.

Sixteen Years Earlier

Amelia tried to shut out the sound of her mother and her mother’s boyfriend arguing in the kitchen by turning up her CD player. There was a loud crash and the sound of more yelling. It had been going on for more than two hours and showed no signs of ending any time soon.

As always the argument was about drugs; her mother had been on crack or crystal meth for as long as she could remember and whilst she never touched it herself, Amelia’s life had been heading south since she had realised what her life was like compared to normal people. When she saw the idyllic life of kids on TV when she was younger, she didn’t realise that her life was any different, but she was older now and knew exactly what was going on. That made her angry at everyone.

The stupid social worker had been to see them again and had made threats to her mother about getting her drug use under control, but the social worker had no idea that Amelia had listened in. Her mother wasn’t getting off drugs while ever she stayed with Tony, the louse. He was worse than her, pushing it all round the neighbourhood as well as indulging himself. Amelia feared that he would force her into prostitution in a couple of years, he had already told her a number of times about how grown up she looked these days and that she could have any man she wanted.

She was fourteen, for God’s sake.

She could hear a siren approaching and wondered if it was headed to them. One of the neighbours could have been fed up with listening to the constant yelling. She took her hoodie from the back of the door and emptied the tin under her mattress of its contents. A screwdriver, a pile of cash from previous robberies and the fake ID she often used to get places she shouldn’t be. Slipping the hoodie on, she fastened the laces of her Converse boots and slid open the window. If the cops were on their way, she was leaving before they finally took her into foster care as they had threatened regularly. She wasn’t going to go into the system, she had seen other kids disappear into it and never be seen again. Teenagers rarely had a good outcome and often ran away. She wasn’t going to sleep rough either, at worst she could get herself a motel room with the ID. She had taken as much as she could from her crappy mother and her crappier boyfriend.

She jumped from the second floor window to the garage roof and then from there she slithered down the far side, away from the house so she couldn’t be seen. It was already dark so no chance of them noticing she was gone. She wandered away from the house and down the crummy street as quickly as she could. She didn’t bother to put her hood up yet, after all this was her neighbourhood so no need. At the end of the street she jumped on the first bus that came along and headed towards the city centre, once there she swapped onto another bus towards a nicer part of town.

She was patient and looked down the street for a house in darkness, checking that there was no car in the driveway or burglar alarm fitted. She had learned well from other neighbourhood boys how to pick the right one. The house she was looking at was perfect and ripe for the picking, even a window on the second floor was left open a fraction. It would mean having to shin up the drainpipe though and that was tricky because the side of the house was in darkness and she wouldn’t be able to see the footing so easy.

Slipping her hood up, she waited until a passing car was long gone. The street was deserted again so it was now or never. She crossed over and slipped inside the gate. She would now be hidden from view as long as she avoided the path to the front door. Clever enough to realise someone could be in, but round the back of the house, she slipped down the dark pathway circling the property. After a complete lap, she knew the whole house was in darkness and now was the time. She was good at climbing by now, the last year had seen her do this seven or eight times and not get caught. Her mother knew nothing and she kept the cash well hidden. She only took cash, jewellery and credit cards. The jewellery she pawned, using her fake ID of course and the credit cards she passed to gang members from her neighbourhood to keep them off her back.

Her small hands slipped behind the drain and she started to climb. She got as far as a ledge above a first floor window and took a breather. Continuing she reached the bottom of the open window. Taking out her screwdriver, she prised the catch open from underneath and the window sprang open fully. Careful not to leave footprints on the ledge, she stepped straight through and sat sideways to take a look into the room. It was a bedroom, with the bed pushed up under the window, so she dropped straight onto it, leaving the window wide open. She didn’t waste time in that room but went for the door and into a dark hallway, looking around she could see family pictures on the wall and it made her more determined to take from them as a result. She looked to the front of the house and could see what she assumed was the master bedroom. Scoping it out first, she headed for a dresser and pulled open a jewellery box. There were a dozen or so rings, some necklace and earrings which she stuffed into the pocket of her hoodie. Next she went to the bedside drawers and rummaged, finding some watches and cash, but no wallets. She ignored a couple of passports and went to look downstairs. She found a large study near the front door and went for the desk, the locked drawer proved no match for the screwdriver and it was prized open easily. In there she found all sorts of goodies; a Rolex, some bank cards, more cash and a bunch of keys which didn’t look like car or house keys.

She looked around for a suitable location and chose a large picture. She didn’t understand why people put safes behind pictures; it was the first place she looked. She was smart, but the owners appeared smarter because the safe was behind the picture, but none of the keys fitted. She slipped them back in the drawer, remembered to straighten the picture and started back up the stairs. She had been there long enough already and just in case a neighbour noticed the open window and got suspicious, she decided it was time to leave. Back in the first room, she climbed back over the windowsill and sat there for a moment. The view out across the neighbourhood was a nice one. Not bothering to close the window behind her, it swung wide open as she reached out for the drainpipe. Securely holding it, Amelia suffered a fright. She saw headlights come into the drive. Her heart started thumping and she tried to avoid panicking. Pulling herself tight to the pipe, she hoped whoever got out of the car wouldn’t see her. So long as they didn’t look up, she would be fine, by the time they realised anyone had been in the house, she would be free and clear. She tried to calm her breathing, so as not to make a noise and held herself as rigid as possible so that even her clothes didn’t make a noise. Her grip tightened further as she heard a couple of voices. She was starting to get cramp and prayed that they would get into the house quickly so she could move, but they were taking their time opening the trunk of the car and laughing. This was the closest she had come to getting caught red-handed, but she wasn’t going to give it up yet.

There was a gentle breeze that evening, a pleasant movement of warm air in the middle of summer. Amelia, for all her care, hadn’t reckoned on that being her undoing. A slamming sound above her head gave her a start and she let out a sound. The breeze had caught the open window and the ensuing noise alerted the people below. They looked up and for a moment thought they were seeing things, but quickly realised something was wrong. Amelia had her hood over her head so they couldn’t see her face, but they knew someone was up to no good. She heard the man say he was calling the Police and she knew she was in trouble. She was stuck, nowhere to run to. If she dropped down now, they would be waiting for her and she was quick but she doubted she could evade a grown man. She couldn’t go up to the roof as the overhang was impossible and the neighbours’ houses too far away to jump from one roof to the next. She had nowhere to go.

It was at that moment that she decided blagging it was her only hope, so she shouted down to the homeowners. “It’s not what you think, I’ll come down. Please don’t call the cops on me.” Maybe she could persuade them she wasn’t doing anything wrong, so as she scoured her mind for what she could possibly say that could get her out of this mess; she wasn’t really watching her feet. Her hands were tired from holding on and it was as she turned slightly to speak to them again, she fell backwards.

Present Day

Amelia wondered just how much good a person had to do in life to wipe out the wrongs they had committed.