Mummy Told Me Not to Tell by Cathy Glass Page A

what they know around them. Usually these things are loaded into carrier bags, so I assumed one or more of the previous carers must have bought the new toy boxes, rucksacks and suitcase. Reece was still looking at me carefully, not saying a word; clearly these toys were poignant reminders of home.
    ‘Well, it’s not here,’ I said.
    I shuffled over on my knees and took the lid off the second toy box. To my great relief and Reece’s delight, at the top lay a grubby, well-chewed, but clearly much-loved hippopotamus soft toy.
    ‘Henry!’ Reece cried.
    I smiled and tucked Henry in beside Reece. Then I had a quick glance at the toys that had been under Henry in the box. It was no great surprise that the shark theme dominated again, together with McDonald’s. The fast-food chain must have been giving away small plastic models of sharks and aquatic creatures in their children’s Happy Meal boxes, for this toy box was full of them. Putting the lid back on the box, I stacked it, together with the rucksacks, on one side of the bedroom, to be sorted out the following day.
    “Night ‘night,’ I said to Reece, kissing his forehead. His face was buried deep into Henry’s soft fur, the toy’s familiar smell welcoming and secure.
    “Night,’ came the muffled reply.
    I went to the bedroom door. ‘Would you like your light on or off?’ I asked, as I ask all children on their first night. It is essential the child sleeps as they are used to and feels comfortable.
    ‘On,’ came the muffled response.
    ‘OK, but I’ll dim it a little so it doesn’t keep you awake.’ I turned the knob on the light switch down so that the room was lit but not startlingly bright. ‘And Reece, do you want your door open or shut, love?’
    ‘Shut,’ Reece said.
    ‘All right. See you in the morning. Sleep tight.’ Only the top of his head was visible as his face snuggled into Henry. ‘See you in the morning,’ I said again and came out and shut the door.
    I waited on the landing, for given how hyperactive Reece had been during the day, coupled with it being his first night in a strange bedroom, I was expecting him to be out of bed the moment I left the room, in which case I would keep resettling him until he finally dropped asleep. But five minutes later, when there had been no sound from his room, I gently eased open the bedroom door and found him fast asleep. He was exhausted and so was I. Closing the bedroom door again, I went downstairs, where Lucy and Paula were in the kitchen making a hot drink.
    ‘He’s asleep.’ I said. ‘Thanks for all your help. It’s much appreciated.’
    ‘Mum?’ Paula said, pouring milk into
her tea.
‘What’s the matter with Reece’s front teeth?’ Lucy looked at me too.
    ‘I don’t know. I’ll ask the dentist when I take him for a check-up. I’m sure it’s something that can be corrected by an orthodontist when he’s older.’ I hesitated. ‘I know this sounds odd but Reece has the nickname Sharky. I think it could be because of his teeth and that he bites.’ They both looked at me. ‘His toys and books are all about sharks. It was a label that began at home and they encouraged him to behave like a shark and bite. He bit me when he first arrived earlier, so please be careful. And obviously we all have to work towards getting rid of that ridiculous nickname.’
    They nodded and I could see from their expressions that they didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, because who on earth calls their child Sharky and encourages him to bite?
    ‘We’ll get him interested in something other than sharks,’ I said. ‘Something that doesn’t bite, like cars or aeroplanes.’ And it occurred to me then that perhaps all the zooming around the house Reece had been doing with his arms outstretched wasn’t a plane or prehistoric bird but a shark skimming through the water in search of prey. Anyway, thanks again. You were both a big help.’
    They smiled and handed me a very welcome mug of tea. ‘Oh