The Long Weekend Read Free Page A

could, but if she didn’t get him up now, they would be late. She pushed open his bedroom door, her eyes seeking out the shape of his little body under the SpongeBob duvet, and stepped inside, avoiding the detritus on the floor – empty DVD cases, football cards, plastic mutants with hard edges that killed your feet if you stepped on them by accident.
    He was still out for the count, his headphones clamped to his ears. She could hear the tinny treble of Jessie J on a loop. He always went to sleep with his iPod on. Angelica worried that it meant his brain never rested properly. She had read somewhere that children should sleep with the light off, and no stimulation. The health visitor had told her not to worry. Angelica didn’t have a great deal of faith in the health visitor, however. All she seemed to want was a quiet life, just like Angelica’s mother. Neither of them really had Dill’s best interests at heart.
    ‘Hey. Sleepyhead.’
    She prodded him through the marshmallow of the duvet. His eyes opened. She pulled the headphones off him gently.
    ‘Don’t wanna get up,’ he groaned, stretching out, the top of his pyjamas riding up to expose his belly. At eight, he still had the plump cheeks and chubby fingers of a toddler. Her little brother. Well, half-brother – none of Angelica’s siblings shared a father – but he never failed to make her heart squeeze.
    ‘Come on. You’ve got half an hour. Get dressed and do your teeth.’
    If it was up to their mother, Dill would still be in bed for another two hours. Trudy couldn’t see how it mattered if he was late for school, given that he was never going to learn much anyway. What difference did a couple of hours here and there make? But Angelica believed in routine. Routine was important to Dill, whether he or anyone else liked it or not.
    He rolled over, putting his arms over his head in protest. She bent down to tickle him, and he flailed around, eventually rolling off the bed in capitulation and landing with a plop at her feet, grinning up at her in delight.
    Her heart melted, as it always did. She loved him. Which was lucky, because he needed her. If she ever left, she didn’t hold out much hope for his future. Trudy wouldn’t fight his corner; fight for him to have a place at the local school, fight for him to be treated like a normal kid. As Down’s syndrome went, he wasn’t severe. But he needed continuity, stability, nurturing, discipline. None of which Trudy was capable of. Her haphazard parenting style, her volatility and her periods of black gloom were the last thing Dill needed. Not that Trudy didn’t love her son – of course she did – but she didn’t seem able to make the sacrifices needed to ensure he thrived as best he could.
    Angelica tried to give him what he needed. She was as good as a mother to him. She didn’t resent it. How could she? Dill was the card she had been dealt, and she was never going to leave him as long as he needed her. And it wasn’t that tough. She could work when she wanted; go out when she wanted, because the buck didn’t stop with her. The others did their bit – even her two half-sisters, Kimberley and Faye. And Jeff. But Angelica was Dill’s safety net. She noticed things before anyone else, and acted on them. Her mother was inclined to let things drift. Of course Dill would survive if he was left in Trudy’s care, but Angelica wanted him to do more than survive. She wanted him to get everything he could out of life. She took him swimming and horse riding. She read to him; helped him with his homework. Took him to football practice. Gave him as much stimulation as time and money would allow.
    He was her little mate.
    Half an hour later, the pair of them walked out of the front door: Dill with his hair carefully gelled as he liked it, in his green school uniform, his Doctor Who rucksack on his back, and Angelica, her linen suit pristine and her hair immaculate. She walked him to the school gate and kissed