Ultimate Justice Page A

not had an opportunity to celebrate their wedding – even though it was twenty years before! The three youngsters from Joh were amazed at just how much of an impression their parents had made so many years before.
    The food was sumptuous. Jalli thought she recognised the chef supervising the spread. It was none other than the young man who had come back to apologise for his drunken behaviour on that infamous night, and whom Mr Pero had accepted to do the washing up. Jalli accosted him.
    â€œDon’t I recognise you?” she asked.
    â€œYou might,” he replied, “you spoke to me kindly on the morning of the clearing up… after… after I got caught up in that vandalism…”
    â€œYeah, I
do
recognise you! So, you are still working here?”
    â€œI’m head chef now. Mr Pero sent me to catering college and mentored me through everything. He says he is leaving it to me now to ensure standards don’t drop.”
    â€œCongratulations! You did all this?”
    â€œYes, our team did it. Mr Pero came and checked on us – for the last time he said. He approved.”
    â€œAs well he might. Well done for this… and for what you have achieved.”
    â€œThank you,” he coloured. “It is all down to Mr Pero – and you – for accepting me on that morning.”
    â€œYou came back. That took courage. An example to all of us when we make mistakes.”
    â€œThank you. I appreciate that.”
    Then Bandi came up and said, “Great food, chef. Mum do you reckon I would make a good chef one day? It must be a cool job.”

    ***
    The disco boomed and the dancing went on into the small hours. Jack and Jalli departed soon after midnight, leaving their youngsters to it.

7

    The following day, Papa Pero joined the Smiths at the breakfast table in the hotel breakfast room. The growing light from the window illuminated brass fittings and glass tops; potted plants were tastefully placed around the walls and against the pillars. At the windows hung light, patterned drapes that reached the floor.
    â€œThis is lovely,” observed Jalli. “I like the little touches, like the posy centre pieces on each table.”
    â€œWe (I mean ‘they’!) try to make people feel special,” explained Pero.
    Just then they noticed a little boy gazing through the window. He was dirty and roughly dressed and his appearance was in shocking contrast with the ambiance of the breakfast suite.
    â€œAh, my little man!” Pero waved at him and indicated to the attendant who took the child a pile of pastries from behind the bar. The little face glowed with a grateful smile. He raised his grubby hand and zoomed off down the hotel steps clutching his prize.
    â€œThe staff used to chase them away but I said to myself, ‘Pero these children are hungry. The only difference between the people inside and the people outside is that the ones inside can pay.’ So I told them to let the children come to the kitchen door. Then I thought, ‘Why should they come round the back? Let them come to the front like other people.’ But the staff, they refused to allow them to come inside. They are worried they haven’t washed. Pero had to concede they have a point.”
    â€œWhere do they come from?” asked Kakko. “Don’t they have homes to go to? Why are they dirty?”
    â€œThey have no homes. They are dirty because they live on the street where there are no showers.”
    â€œChildren without adults, living wild!” exclaimed Kakko. “Why?”
    â€œThere always have been children living on the street around here,” explained Pero. “I ask myself the same question, where are all these kids coming from? I went to one of the older ones who seemed to look after the others. He told us that most of them had been thrown out of their homes by the adults supposed to look after them. Many had parents who had died and their