Emma

6:Laura

"Sit still while I brush your hair." I put a hand on either side of Emma's shoulders and steered her back towards the chair she was sitting in, grabbing a hairbrush on the way.

"You know, I always wanted a daughter with lovely, long hair," I told her as I tugged lengths of it through bristles on the brush. It fell a long way past her shoulders and was almost unnaturally straight. "Have you ever had it cut?"

"Yes."

"I used to have longer hair when I was your age." I reached up to touch my short "Pixie cut", feeling a small sense of longing for longer locks. 

"I think you'd look silly with it longer," she giggled. I reached over to tickle her and she let out a playful squeal. After composing herself, she then resumed sitting extremely still until I had finished getting knots out of her hair.

Eventually I told her "I'm finished," at which point she hopped off the chair and dashed into the living room to join Luke.

Later that morning, I took Luke shopping. He was reluctant to go, but when I brought a trip to KFC into the deal, he no longer thought it such a bad idea. Leaving Emma at home with Simon felt a little wrong, but I didn't think she was settled enough to go out with us. I arranged some activities for her to do whilst we were done, as Simon was feeling quite unwell. 

"Take these upstairs into your bedroom." I piled some sheets of coloured paper, glue, pencils and scissors into her arms until she could barely manage to move without everything toppling over. "You can make something nice for when we get back, okay?"

"Will you be long?" she asked, peeking out above the papers to make eye contact with me.

"Probably a couple of hours." I reached down to gently kiss her on the cheek and then called out for Luke. Emma shuffled out of the room and clambered with difficulty up the stairs. "Simon's in the room if you need anything!" I called after her.

Luke and I spent an hour and a half shoe shopping, so some food at KFC was a welcome break. Along the way, we had managed to pick up a pair of trainers and some school shoes. I would take Emma shopping for hers towards the end of the holidays.

After purchasing food at the counter, we took seats by the window so we could watch people pass by whilst we were eating. Luke rested his head against my shoulder.

"Are you going to tell me about what was wrong yesterday?" I asked him through a mouthful of battered chicken.

"It doesn't matter anymore," he replied.

"Come on," I encouraged him. "I know you were a bit upset."

"It's okay now."

"Are you sure?" I said, affectionately stroking his cheek. I didn't want him to feel he had to hide things from me. "You know that you can tell me anything."

"I know." He gently pushed my hand away and we spent the next few minutes eating in silence. I knew something was still slightly wrong, but didn't want to push him. Wouldn't any child feel a little insecure if they had to share their home and parents with a new sibling? It was at that moment I remembered the sibling in question was not with us and I decided to make a phone call home.

I allowed the phone to ring for a while, but when there was still no answer after about a minute I hung up. In a few minutes, my mobile would probably ring as they called back. "Simon must be busy making Emma a sandwich" I told myself and then reasoned that it was more likely he had fallen asleep on the settee. Watching Luke out of the corner of my eye, chewing away at his food, I thought how reliant he was on myself and Simon. This made me feel terrible as I suddenly became aware of the fact that I had left my newly-adopted child at home with a man who could barely look after himself at the moment. What on earth had I been thinking?

After waiting about ten minutes for a call that never came, a faint feeling of worry and guilt began to build up in my stomach, limiting my appetite for the last few chips before me. At that moment, I knew that we had to go home to Emma. And quickly. 

With urgency, I gathered my shopping bags and coat, hurrying Luke to finish eating the last of his chicken. We rushed past all the tables and out through the automatic doors - I grabbed his hand tightly and tugged him along to keep up with my pace - then dashed along pavements and across roads, until eventually we made it to the car. 

For the whole drive home, I tried to convince myself that Emma would be fine, but I was filled with guilt and a feeling of failed responsibility. I vowed to never to leave her in a position like this again in my head and put on a CD to occupy Luke.

As soon as we were back, I left Luke in the hallway and hurried upstairs. There had been no evidence of sandwich-making downstairs so Emma was probably very hungry.

"Would you like something to eat, Emma?" I called as I approached her bedroom. When there was no reply, I pushed the door open and made my way inside.

What I saw next certainly stopped me in my tracks.

Looking around the room, I could immediately see no sign of Emma. She had probably scarpered to somwehere else after whatever crazy thoughts that had persuaded her to wreck the place had made way for realistic ones. For at least a couple of minutes, I just stood rooted to the spot, staring at the sight before me in complete disbelief.

The floor was littered with torn up scraps of paper and coloured pencils. Disorganised and in complete disarray, the room was very far from the state I had left it in. Spread out everywhere, the messy craft products did not really bother me - they at least showed Emma had been doing something productive whilst I was absent. What worried me more was the fact that massive chunks of blonde hair had been scattered across the carpet and over the bed. 

Somebody had obviously put their scissors to good use.

It was only a moment later that I realized my earlier assumption had been incorrect - Emma was still in the room with me. Sitting in the corner, hidden behind the curtains, I could see a small shape silently shaking. She was quite obviously crying and I was speechless for what to say.

"Emma?" I ventured, taking a step in her direction. "Come out. I promise I won't get angry."

A muffled noise - something like a whimper - reached my ears. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the curtains aside. 

Sitting before me was a child with the messiest haircut I had ever seen and the widest, blue eyes filled with fear.