Shattered by Teri Terry Read Free Book Online

putting it on the desk by the bed. ‘Break any of the rules at your peril,’ she says in her Stella mimic voice, and I try not to smirk: that is my mother she is making fun of. ‘And then there is her family.’ She rolls her eyes.
    Family? Do I have other family? ‘Why? Who are they?’ I ask, trying to not look too curious.
    ‘Her mother is the JCO for all of England. Not somebody you want to be in the same room with. Thankfully, she hardly ever visits.’
    JCO? I stare at her in shock. I have a grandmother . And my grandmother is not only a Lorder, but a Juvenile Control Officer, and not only that, but for all of England? My mouth falls open.
    Madison doesn’t seem to notice. ‘What are you doing in Keswick, anyhow?’
    ‘I’m here for the apprenticeship intake.’
    ‘CAS? That starts tomorrow, doesn’t it?’
    I nod. There was an outline of the scheme in Aiden’s notes, and it was the reason for my hasty trip up here: to make it for the first day. ‘What do you do?’
    ‘I’m working at Cora’s Cafe. It’s my day off today. Can’t wait until I’m twenty-one next summer so I can get out of here. I’d just moved into this fab flat with three others when they brought in that latest stupid YP law two years ago, and we had to give it up.’
    I look at her blankly.
    ‘Don’t you even know why you’re staying here? JCO Young Persons Law 29(b).’ She stands up bolt straight. ‘Thou shalt live either with family or in approved structured accommodation with supervision until the age of twenty-one,’ she intones in a nasal voice, then pretends to strangle herself. ‘What do they think we’ll get up to? It’s not like there is much of anything to do in Keswick, even if we weren’t stuck out here.’
    Madison opens a door to show me my en suite. ‘You may be on your own in the tower, but at least you don’t have to share your bathroom. Don’t miss rule nine: no more than five minutes per shower. If you go over she turns the hot water off for the whole house for a day. Somehow, she always knows. She does randoms, too: walks the halls in the middle of the night at odd times, to make sure you don’t breach rules six or eleven.’
    ‘Thanks.’ I smile, look at her. Please leave . I need to be alone a while.
    She must see it on my face. ‘You want me to go, right.’
    ‘Ah…’
    ‘No worries. See you at tea downstairs at four. Don’t be late: rule number two.’
    Alone at last, I circle the room: a double bed, an empty wardrobe, a desk and a chair. More wardrobes across the room – locked. And a lot of empty space: it’s a big room. Did this use to be Lucy’s room – my room – is that why Stella keeps it empty? I shrug. No idea. Nothing in it feels familiar.
    I pull the curtains open wide. There are windows all around: lake one side, woods the other. Gorgeous views, and I close my eyes, try to imagine this room and me in it, younger, looking out the window with my dad, but can’t.
    There is an odd noise at the door: scratching? A grey paw reaches underneath. I open it.
    A grey cat looks up at me, then pushes past through the open door. Takes a running leap at the bed and sits there daintily, washing one paw, her green eyes on me all the while.
    Lucy’s grey kitten, her tenth birthday present – one of the very few memories I’ve had of being her since I was Slated. Is it…this cat?
    I walk over to the bed, sit on the other end cross-legged. ‘Is it you?’ I whisper. She stalks across the bed, walks all around me in a circle as if checking me out thoroughly. I hold out one hand, and she rubs her chin against it. Soon I’ve coaxed her onto my lap; I stroke her and she curls up, purring.
    The list of rules is next to me where Madison left it, and I pick it up, look at the first page. Rule one: Be nice to Pounce (the cat).
    ‘Pounce?’ I say, and she stirs, looks at me with slit-eyes, then pulls her paws tight around her head as if to say, be quiet: can’t you see I’m sleeping ? Pounce