Holme Again

2

The platform was very crowded, everyone jostling and being jostled. I had a backpack and a small suitcase. That was all any of us were allowed to take. Gradually, a queue began to form, and then slowly dwindled as people made their.way into the train.

The train was crowded too. I wish I could say it was like being on the Hogwarts Express, but it really wasn't. It was dirty and noisy. Not didn't seem to understand that they weren't going on holiday. They didn't understand that it was quite literally a matter of life and death.

I had left my brother and sister (well, I supposed, half siblings) at home. They were to get a train tomorrow, but would not follow me. They were going, together, to somewhere entirely different, and I wasn't sure I'd ever see them again. Coming to terms with the fact that my dad wasn't my dad was.hard, and I still hadn't fully realised what it meant.

Unwrapping the foil, I thoughtfully brought out my tuna wraps. A lot of the other children and teenagers had hardly brought proper good-looking just sweets and fizzy drinks. Hopefully they'd crash out in a few hours and stop making such a racket. Reading is hard on a train full of hyperactive children.

By the time we arrived, it was raining. Typical British weather. The younger ones on the train had fallen asleep, and has to be woken by their siblinhs, or others who decided to be helpful. We were needed into a room, then told to line up against the back wall. Couples, families, and people in their own arrived, scrutinizing us and taking their pick. Just like during world war two. The government didn't have the time or the money to DBS check all those coming to take children into their care.

Half an hour later, a dark haired woman wearing the clothes of a business woman walked in and spoke quietly to the warden, who then came to me and told me that she had been sent by my uncle to fetch me. I was cold by this point, goosebumps increased by my uneasiness towards the woman. She led me to a sleek black car and put my luggage in the boot before gesturing for me to get into the back. Some kind of chauffeur (that's what he must have been), who have off an air of highly disciplined training, started the car once the woman had joined me.

Puddles of water flew up at the sides of the car, as we sped down the road, me gazing out of the window in silence, the woman staring straight ahead.

"What's your name?" my voice sounded harsh against the soft silence within the car.

She didn't even blink, "Anthea."

I returned to my gazing out of the window.