Wild Rose And Vanilla

Carework

"India? Hello? India? Gods sake."
Already with a distaste for this woman, India remained unmoving, staring at the wall in front of her, an orange blanket draped over her shoulders.
"Adam? Can you see to her? I'm heading off."
A grunt was her only answer.
The dark haired man from the other side of the room stumbled over to her crouched figure.

"So Miss..." Checking his clipboard to see the answer, "ah, Miss Cafrice, what are we going to do with you, huh? Why won't you speak to Pen?"
India inverted her eyes from their dead position on his face, almost in humiliation.
"Its okay little Miss, we're not gonna hurt ya. You do like Penny, don't ya?"
No hesitation in the nod of her head.
"Okay, then. Urm... I'm just gonna go get something to drink. You want any? Tea, coffee?"
"No." Replied a small voice, Detective Beaston thought would never come. His face softened.
"Well I'll be damned - she speaks! Well, okay hen, I'll be in there if you need me."

---

A royal blue mini van pulled up in the drive way was the only thing that changed in the surroundings of the police station. A middle aged woman with grey hair overflowing from a loose bun jumped out the van. She held herself with power as she strolled over to the entrance and was met with the Detective on the concrete stairs outside.
"Hello." Her voice was aristocratic, with a hint of a country accent.

"Urm... Eh... Hi. Detective Beason." He took his rough hands out of his pocket and offered it to her.

"Yes. Susan Garlands. Deputy of Treehouse Care Home. At your service." She accepted his hand and shook it with a quick jerk. "Now, where is she?"

"She's, urm... Right this way." He held the heavy oak door open for her as she slid through it.
She was lead down a quick corridor to an empty office room. The space was filled with only three chairs and a desk. A young girl sat, slouched with her back to the door and an untouched cup of tea. It wasn't clear whether she knew if they were there or not, but every few seconds she would shudder.
Beaston cleared his throat. "India? You okay?"

She turned to face him, her dirty blonde hair covering her face like a curtain of silk.
"Y... Yes?" She mentally cursed. She had wanted to seem bomb proof in front of the lady come to collect her.

"Of course she's not." The woman crouched over her. "How could you leave her alone? She's probably terrified. How longs she been alone for?" So much for emotionless...

"Urm... She's not... I mean... Uh... She wanted to be alone. She asked to be." Plainly lying, he looked at India for verification. "I've been popping in to see you, haven't I?"
The pleading look he gave her was almost made her feel sorry for him. He clearly wasn't good at his job. She could hear him snoring in the next room.
"Uh... Yeah."

The woman nodded, but with a stern, disbelieving face. "Okay. Well then. Uh... I'm Susan Garlands, your social worker, and I'll be taking you to the home in about half an hour. First though, I need to sort some things out. You'll be welcome to stay here, or come with me. Your choice."

"Um... I'll stay here. Please?"

"Okay then." She turned to give a cold stare over to the man leaning against the doorframe. "Let's go, shall we?" And pushed past him.