By Any Other Name Read Free

on the landing, and my door opens a crack.
    ‘Mum? Is she OK?’
    ‘Yes, she’s fine.’ Mum crosses over to my bed and sits down. ‘She woke up and couldn’t work out where she was, that’s all. It was bound to happen. Did she
wake you or haven’t you been able to sleep?’
    ‘She woke me.’ I swallow and my throat’s dry so I reach for the water by my bed. ‘I had another nightmare.’
    Mum’s hand finds mine in the darkness. ‘It’s moving, sweetie. It’s set it all off again. When you settle in, the dreams will stop. This will be the last time, I’m
sure it will. Tim told us that when he arranged this, didn’t he? He said this’ll be a safe place. Darling, we’re a hundred and fifty miles from home with completely new
identities. They won’t find us here.’
    I squeeze her hand. I don’t want her to go but I can’t tell her that. She’s tired. We all are.
    ‘We’ll go and look round your new school next week and buy your uniform. Then we can go to Paperchase and get some new pens and folders. That’ll be something to look forward
to, won’t it?’
    Or dread.
    A new school. At least I hadn’t had to face that before. The last two moves weren’t long enough to involve school. Transition moves, they were called. A short stay and then change
location again. Confuse the enemy. And give the police time to set up our new identities, which is way more complex than I imagined: all the documentation that’s needed and the lies they had
to coach us in.
    ‘Yes, something to look forward to.’ I let go of Mum’s hand so she can go to bed. If I’m lucky, I’ll sleep through until the sun comes up. I feel safer in daylight,
though that makes no sense at all. They can get you anywhere.

O n the day after the move, Mum says we should go out and explore. Katie claps her hands as if we’re about to go on an adventure. I’m
tired and my arms ache from lifting boxes. I want to lounge around, not go out and be stared at like the new elephant in the zoo. Dad’s warned me about that: ‘When you first move into a
village, everyone talks about you and everyone stares. You’ll get used to it.’
    But I don’t want to get used to it. I want to be an anonymous face in a city crowd, living in a place that feels alive.
    However, when Katie grabs my hand and pulls me off the sofa, I can’t say no to her. She won’t understand and she doesn’t notice how people look at her anyway, so I let her haul
me up and drag me to the door with Mum.
    The street’s quiet. Katie walks along the pavement between me and Mum. She holds our hands and swings her arms, tugging ours up and down, up and down. She’s wearing her little
backpack, and Charlie Cuddles, her toy monkey, sticks out of the back like a baby in a papoose – so he can see properly, she says.
    An old woman is weeding her garden a few houses up. She’s bent over, digging at the ground with a trowel, but she straightens up as we pass. I can almost hear her back creak.
    ‘Hello! Settling in?’ she calls. Her voice is croaky like an old person’s, but demanding too. The voice of someone who expects to be answered. It’s unsettling – Dad
did say people are more inclined to talk to strangers up here, but it still takes me by surprise. Mum too, from the look on her face.
    ‘Have you moved far?’ Our geriatric interrogator gets her next question in before Mum can make an escape. The !Caution! alarm sounds inside my head. We have our prepared history
ready of course, but when the questions actually come, our story sounds unreal to my ears and I’m scared that shows in my face.
    ‘Gloucester,’ Mum replies. Katie opens her mouth to protest, but Mum yanks her hand so hard that she squeals instead. Mum nods to the woman. ‘Nice to meet you. Must hurry. Busy
day,’ and she charges off, towing Katie. I risk a look back once we’ve passed the next garden and the old woman is staring after us, mouth open wide.
    So that went well. We didn’t come