Mistakes We Make by Jenny Harper Read Free Book Online

them tidy. Yet others were used as a dumping ground for everything that wasn’t wanted in the house but no-one could be bothered to take to the tip.
    She was nearing one of these, the one that belonged to Angie McQuade, whose youngest son Kevin had caused havoc in the supermarket earlier. One of the older McQuade boys was emerging from the front door, on his way for a quick pint at the pub, no doubt, having polished off whatever grub Kevin had filched. Caitlyn kept her head down and strode on, praying she’d get past before he realised who she was.
    Too late.
    ‘What’s yer hurry, Cait-no-mates?’
    The youth stepped out in front of her and seized her wrist with a malicious grin. It was Ricky, the eldest. Caitlyn had been at school with Ricky and knew he was a bully. She wasn’t afraid of him – she knew too many of his secrets for him to be any real threat to her, but if she didn’t handle him right, she’d waste more precious time before she got home and she really wasn’t in the mood for a fight.
    She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. ‘You’re the one in a hurry, Ricky. You’re running out of drinking time.’
    He released her wrist to glance at his watch. ‘Shit!’
    ‘They’ll be taking last orders. You’d better run.’
    He swung away. ‘Another time,’ he cackled. ‘You and me—’ He made an obscene gesture.
    He made Caitlyn feel uncomfortable. She could handle Ricky on his own, but if he was in a crowd, he might gain courage.
    ‘Enjoy your pint,’ she called after him. Never show weakness.
    The Murrays lived a few doors further down. They used to have a small lawn, but after Mick left, her mum got Malcolm Milne to come and lay some slabs in the small space between the front wall and the house. ‘I haven’t the time to keep it nice, and that’s the truth,’ Joyce said when Caitlyn protested.
    Caitlyn was working in Edinburgh at the time and couldn’t spend hours gardening either, so she could hardly object.
    At the gate, she paused. She longed to get through the door and collapse on a chair with a cuppa, but she knew it wouldn’t be that simple. It never was in the Murray household.
    She turned her key in the lock. It opened with a protesting creak.
    ‘Harris has just farted, Harris has just farted,’ Lewis chanted, prancing round and round her in the small hallway. The older of the Murray twins (by seven minutes) clamped two fingers over his nose. ‘Pooh.’
    ‘Have not.’
    ‘Have sot.’
    ‘Have not! ’
    ‘Stop it, you two,’ Caitlyn said wearily. ‘Just give it a break, huh?’
    She’d hoped that the twins might be in bed, but no such luck. Lewis (bigger and more dominant) dashed past his brother, pinching him on the arm as he ran.
    ‘Ouch! That hurt, you bastard!’
    ‘Harris, language!’
    ‘Well, he pinched me! Tell him off!’ Harris’s face was tragic. One day, perhaps, the twins would stand together against the world, but that day could be a long way off.
    ‘Ignore him. Come here.’ She folded her arms round the boy, feeling the bones under the skinniness. Harris had always had health issues.
    A shadow fell across them as Ailsa slouched out of the front room.
    ‘They’re mental.’
    She pulled a strand of bleached hair in front of her eyes and examined the ends. The fluorescent pink of her nails exactly matched the colour she’d painted her lips. Ailsa was fifteen and obsessed with her looks (which would be lovely, Caitlyn thought, if only she’d let nature have its own way). She certainly wasn’t much interested in her young brothers. Caitlyn worried about leaving her in charge, but if Joyce was on duty at the care home there was little choice. There wasn’t enough money to pay a babysitter.
    She straightened up and released Harris. ‘Get your pyjamas on, boys,’ she called as Lewis reappeared, tearing the wrapper off a chocolate biscuit. She tweaked it out of his hand.
    ‘Hey! Gimme that—’
    She held it above her head. ‘You know