What Have I Done - By Amanda Prowse Page 0,47

sparkled like fireworks and moved in time to the thrum of the steel drums.

When the heavens opened, Kate raised her arms high over her head and allowed the warm tropical rain to wash over her head. She laughed, feeling a surge of optimism about her very uncertain future. At that moment in time, everything felt possible. She focussed more on the fact that Lydia had called and less on the actual words spoken, and it lifted her. ‘Mum… Mummy…’ The words twinkled like diamonds in her mind.

With Matilda’s hand in hers, the insistence of Simon and the upturned faces of the kids, it hadn’t taken much to persuade her to accompany them back home. So towards the end of the afternoon, the weary troupe piled into minibuses and made its way back to the mission. On the road to Dennery, the smaller kids slept on the laps of the larger ones and the eldest recalled the day’s highlights in hushed tones, careful not to wake their younger charges.

Simon helped all the children alight, counting them as they went and suggesting that it might be a good idea to change into dry clothes. The kids dutifully dispersed to find pyjamas or clean shorts. Fabian headed straight for the kitchen; Kate was sure he would be happy never to leave that large stove and his cramped workspace, such was his dedication to feeding the children in his care.

‘You’ve got yourself quite a family there, Fabian. You should be very p… p… proud.’ Kate shivered and stammered through her words.

‘I am very proud of them all, but look at you – you’re freezing, drenched through! And as amusing as it is to see, you have green dye all over your face. I think someone got their feathers wet!’ Fabian shook his head, with his hands on his hips, as though he was addressing one of the children.

‘I did!’ Kate laughed, wiping at her forehead and cheeks.

‘Why don’t you have a hot shower and lay your clothes in the sun; it shouldn’t take too long to dry them out. I can fetch you something to put on, how does that sound?’

Kate grinned though chattering teeth and nodded. A hot shower sounded like bliss. The bathroom was larger than she had expected, but contained nothing more than a pipe sticking out of the wall, a small grate in the concrete floor and a plastic shower curtain suspended across the room. Having hung her towel on the hook and lowered the latch on the door, she watched the brown water spurt sporadically from the pipe. Whilst it didn’t look too appealing, it was hot and that was all that mattered.

Kate observed her skin turn from goosebumpy to mottled and felt warm once again. She soaped her face and watched the green dye dribble down the grate. It had been a brilliant day.

She pulled back the curtain and turned the handle to stop the water. Standing with her back to the door, she ran her fingers through her hair, attempting to dry and style it with the tips of her fingers. What with the guttering sound from the pipe as the last of the water hit the concrete floor and her tuneless rendition of ‘One Love’, Kate didn’t hear Simon’s knock.

The door creaked as the latch was raised. It was as if time froze for the briefest moment. Neither moved, each uncertain of how to react.

Simon had assumed he could hang clean, dry towels on the hooks and retreat as he often did, ensuring there were enough towels for the kids in the endless cycle of laundry. Kate had forgotten to lock the door.

It wasn’t her naked form that drew Simon’s stare, but the latticework of scars that crisscrossed her bottom and the back of her thighs. They had the look of deliberate, patterned tracks that could not have occurred by accident.

Simon narrowed his gaze, as though by changing his focus he might alter the sight that greeted him. Kate quickly placed her hands over her breasts, even though they were the only bit of her that was hidden from view. A blush crept along her neck and chest, and the breath stopped in her throat. She was beyond embarrassed; she was mortified.

No one ever saw Kate’s scars. Keeping them invisible, she could pretend that she had not suffered all that she had, and avoided having to deal with the judgement and sympathy of others. Her mind flew to the last and only person other than the

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