All of Me by Kim Noble Read Free Book Online

they’re different from the rest, do they? I’m as normal as you. I still believe that. But I couldn’t deny that odd things were happening more and more often.
    Schoolwork wasn’t breaking any records but I had friends there and Mum let me enrol at Brownies and Girls Brigade. I was even allowed to go on a camping trip. The tents were already in place when we arrived but we still had to cook, wash up and generally get by in the great outdoors. I only remember staying two nights but it was probably longer. It seemed too far to go if not.
    Christian Endeavour was another group I was allowed to join although this one didn’t have the happiest ending. Maybe it was because their standards were higher, but we were in the church hall one night and there was a noise from the window. Twenty pairs of eyes swung over to look. A group of boys were jumping up to see in, all calling, ‘Give us a wave!’
    We all started giggling at the sight.
    ‘Friends of yours?’ the CE leader asked.
    ‘Me?’ I was shocked. ‘No, I’ve never seen them before.’
    It was the truth. They were wearing our school uniform so I suppose I’d seen them around, but I certainly wouldn’t say I ‘knew’ them.
    ‘Well they seem to know you,’ she said.
    The group leader went outside and chased the lads away. The giggling in the hall took longer to quell. Afterwards she pulled me aside.
    ‘We don’t encourage that sort of behaviour with boys,’ she said. ‘And we don’t welcome liars either. Perhaps it would be better for everyone if you spent your Friday nights elsewhere.’
    ‘But …’
    ‘I think it would be best for everyone.’
    Thrown out – by Christians! And I had no idea what for.
    Our road and the surrounding area were comfortable places in the 1970s for kids to play. No one worried about strangers or traffic. The only rule was being back for mealtimes. You went out after school and came in for your tea. At weekends you’d disappear after breakfast and pop back for lunch and dinner.
    Ding-dong ditch was a popular game, although it was rarely risked on your own street. The last thing we needed was some old bag complaining to Mum and Dad. Sometimes men would come haring out of their front doors and try to get you with a bucket of water or lads would chase you round the block waving a belt. One day a woman flung the door open before I’d even left her porch. She must have been waiting for us. I turned on my heels as quick as lightning and I was in such a panic I convinced myself she yelled, ‘I’ll be telling your mother! I know where you live, Kim Noble!’
    I must have misheard. I’d never seen her before in my life. People were always bluffing like that.
    Bad eggs was another favourite, or there was hopscotch, or just sitting on walls eating sweets and talking. Boys had one area and girls another. We were very segregated at that age.
    Being a kid on the streets, especially in summer, was a bit like working shifts in a factory. As the smells of cooking began to waft from each house, we all knew playtime was nearly over. When the first mum stood on the front step and summoned her little one that was the cue for the rest of us to traipse home. That was our whistle telling us to clock out and clear off for another day.
    The streets emptied as quickly as they filled and as usual it was just me, last girl standing again. Home since Dad had returned was not the haven it had once been. Individually my parents were exactly the same towards me and Lorraine. No change in their behaviour there at all. Towards each other, though, they could be evil.
    Mum’s heart had been broken when Dad walked out. That was his fault. That was damage he caused. She had been over the moon when he’d come back, beaten and bruised, tail between his legs, begging for one more chance.
    ‘I don’t know what I was thinking, Doll,’ he said. ‘She led me on and I was weak.’
    It was the wrong decision for everyone. They were forever at each other’s