Whispers of the Past

Disclaimer: This characters are mine. And I am sorry but they are not for borrowing.

ShilohDarke: I haven't seen that site yet. Yes, this story is dark.

Friendships Easily Forged

Ralph walked away from Rachel’s home; he glanced once over his shoulder to see if he should change his mind, but he shook his head carrying on down the street. He turned the corner and he lifted his bag back onto his shoulder, shaking the drizzle of rain away from his face.

He felt something strange when Hank and Rachel shook his hand for friendship. For some inexplicable reason he felt complete. He also felt as if he had done something significant; especially with Rachel. He knew that perhaps Rachel’s trust was going to be a difficult thing to acquire, but acquire it he will. Hank was no problem whatsoever, as soon as Hank had gotten one over him, Ralph knew that in the future this was going to be one guy not to mess with. Ralph understood the reason why Rachel didn’t trust him. He was not delusional about himself, he knew that he was not trustworthy, and he most certainly wasn’t nice.

The short stab of recognition he had felt when he laid eyes on Rachel and Hank irked Ralph, considerably, as he felt a loss of control. Ralph liked to be in control. That was why he had a gang. That was why he was self-appointed leader of the gang. But as soon as Hank and Rachel stepped onto the bus there was a whispering, urging voice telling him that he should be friends with them. He didn’t like that; he didn’t like the idea that something else was controlling him. He tried to fight the whispers, he tried to ignore them, and he even told them to go away. But everytime he went out of the classroom something directed his feet to them. He could no longer ignore them after Hank had floored him though. He had to accept Hank as a member of his gang after that particular meeting. He smiled with a proud expression on his face at that thought. With his training Hank could be a lean, mean, fighting machine.

Then there was Rachel. Ralph had to suppress a smirk at the thought of her. He didn’t know why but he felt that he HAD to get into her good books. For some odd reason he wanted to impress her more than Hank, she was going to be harder to please. Something also told him that she was a tough person already. What brought that on he didn’t know, but he wanted to. Plus, he thought with another smile adorning his rough lips, she’s damn pretty. Then he realized with a certain amount of jealousy that she did not, and probably would never fancy him. He saw the way her eyes lit up when Hank stepped onto the bus. He would just have to be content with being nice to her.

He shook some more drizzle out of his face and wiped it with his sleeve. If the truth be told he would have loved to have gone into Mrs Snow’s home for a cup of coffee, she seemed a nice woman, and rather disconcertingly, he felt that he should know her as well. Somewhere along the line.

He hoiked his bag up onto his shoulder and rubbed his hands to get them warm and blew on them. He was in no hurry to get back home, despite the cool, damp weather. He never really considered his flat as a home. It was more like a Room, that he shared with his mother. Not that she was any real kind of mother to him. He couldn’t relate to her on any level. He had reached the turning that led to his block of flats and he wondered where she had hidden the bottles this time.

Another thing he was not looking forward to was confronting Alfred. They lived in the same block and was the meanest of his gang. Ralph couldn’t wait to chuck him out; he was getting fed up with him anyway. They jarred on each other quite frequently. Ralph sighed and prayed to anyone that might be listening that he could just get into the flats, but as he suspected Alfred was already standing outside the glass doors.

Ralph was about to swipe his card through the security box, but Alfred blocked it. Ralph went to the other one, but Alfred got there first. Ralph sighed and looked into Alfred’s eyes.

“You can’t chuck me out,” Alfred stated plainly.

“Well,” Ralph began bluntly, “I just have.”

“What have Titch and Titchette got that I haven’t?” Alfred asked sulkily.

“Brains and guts,” Ralph replied. “Besides you knew my bug and you know my rules.”

“Why do you have rules?” Alfred asked.

“Because it keeps thugs like you in line!” Ralph exclaimed.

Ralph didn’t want to fight, but Alfred was raising his hackles. He kept trying each security box but Alfred kept blocking them. Ralph was getting mad.

“You what?” Alfred asked, he cocked his head to one side with a dirty leer on his face.

“You heard,” Ralph said in a dangerous cold tone.

Alfred narrowed his eyes and peered closely at Ralph. “Shame she’s a first year,” he said conversationally, “pretty ain’t she!”

Ralph narrowed his eyes back at Alfred; he knew Alfred was someone he should never have let in the gang in the first place. But he thought he’d give him a try. He really was glad to be rid of him.

“You leave her alone,” Ralph said very quietly.

“Give me one good reason why I should?” Alfred asked with a threatening jeer in his tone.

“Is this a good enough reason?” Ralph asked as he swung his bag at Alfred’s stomach and then punched him in the eye. “I’ve never liked you, Alfred, and I am glad to be rid of you!” Alfred looked up, his mouth bleeding and he grabbed the hand that Ralph used to punch him, and bit it. “You son of a bitch!” Ralph exclaimed.

Alfred got up and looked directly at Ralph. “You were someone last year. But since those brats came along you’ve become no one!”

Ralph then looked at Alfred directly in the eye. “The only nobody I see here is you, Al, only a nobody punches a girl into a seat to make her bleed.” He pushed Alfred aside and swiped his card through the security box and ran up the flight of stairs to his room, as the lift did not work.

Ralph sighed as he brought his key out and opened the door. The television was blaring some American soap opera full of well-dressed rich beautiful middle-aged people sniping and bitching one another. It was turned on full blast and the television screen was the only light in this dark room. Ralph saw his mother sprawled on the sofa drunk; an empty bottle of vodka in her hand. She was so sozzled that she didn’t have the dignity to hide the bottle this time. It began slipping from her well-manicured grip.

He shook his head and picked up the remote control to change the channel. He crept up to his dozing, snoring mother stealthily, and bent down. He gently prised her fingers from the bottle of vodka. He sniffed the lid and saw the imprint of her lips on the lid. He looked down sadly at her, and softly stroked her cheek with a lump in his throat.

He threw the bottle in the bin, opened the cupboard door and reached out for a bag of salt and vinegar crisps. He went to the table in the kitchen and took his homework out of his bag. He crunched on one and contemplated his English essay on Macbeth. He kept a corner of his eye on his mother; and sighed. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to invite Hank and Rachel here.

The flat was dingy, grimy and damp. He could sense that Hank probably wouldn’t mind, but Rachel? He couldn’t bring her here, he wanted to impress her and he wanted her to like him. He couldn’t let her see what sort of Dickensian life style he had here. He definitely didn’t want to introduce his two new friends to his mother. He hated this place. It was too much a victim of seventies décor. The whole block was bullied by that awful decade.

He put his head down and concentrated on the start of Mount Everest of homework. He ran the conversation over in his mind… ‘Hank meet my mother, Victoria!’ he snorted. No, he had to think of somewhere else. He began to think about his father. He thought about his father a lot. Not that he knew who his father was. He hadn’t any memories of his father; he didn’t even know his name.

“All you need to know about your father, Ralph, is that he’s scum!” His mother used to slur in her drunken American accent.

Ralph looked at his easy woman of a mother and grimaced. Not that you’re much better, he thought. Ralph went back to his homework hoping to shake off the feeling he had that something else was controlling him. He also secretly cursed the fact that Rachel was still a child. Damn too pretty to be a child, Ralph thought. She made him feel like a real man. She made him feel comfortable and warm, and loved. That is what Ralph wanted MORE than anything else in the world was a woman to love him, not in a sexual way, just a woman that cared for him the way that they did in stories. Rachel gave him that feeling, he knew that if he played his cards right she would end up caring for him, possibly extremely deeply. Yet there was that nagging voice in the back of his mind that told him that she was Hanks, lucky bastard! Not that he’d stand in Hanks way. He wanted to keep Hanks friendship, and let nothing come between it. He told the nagging voice to shut up! Pity, but she was going to break hearts as a woman, she had that grin already.

Ralph had finished his homework and went to search the cupboards and fridge for food for dinner. Food was meagre to scarce in this place, he found a can of beans and some chips in the freezer. He had practically lived on beans and chips all his life. Most people had to buy chips out, when he brought food out, it was always something like lasagne, baked potatoes, pies… he longed for proper food.

He had to go shopping tomorrow after school. He picked up his mothers benefit book and saw that she signed it for him to pick up. He pocketed it so that the money could be spent on food at least. He sighed. He heard a particularly vocal snore from his mother. He turned around and found she was stirring. She lifted her arm for an automatic swig of vodka but she was disappointed that the bottle was not there.

He tidied up his homework and as he picked up his science book a slip of paper fell out, it was Hanks number, Ralph contemplated calling him but dismissed it soon enough. He picked it up and hurried it into his bag. He kept an eye on his mother. She would soon get off the sofa. He turned his bag and put the chip pan on the stove and switched the gas on.

“Where’s my bottle?” his mother demanded harshly.

“You finished it,” Ralph replied calmly.

“Get me another one!” She ordered.

“Don’t you think that you have had enough, mother?” Ralph said gently. He knew where this was going to lead, and he wanted to make an effort at showing her who was boss.

“Get me another bottle, Ralph!” she slurred. Ralph opened a tin of baked beans still with his back turned to his mother.

“I’m cooking us some dinner, you need some nourishment.”

“I want a drink!” she yelled. She got up off the sofa, her body swaying drunkenly; she took unsteady, faltering steps to her son. “You’re a pathetic little cockroach!”

Ralph sighed. “You don’t mean that,” he said calmly.

“Yes I do!”

She spied the lid of the can of beans and picked it up, Ralph saw her action, and his heart beat fast in his chest.

“Mum, no!” he exclaimed backing away from his wild haired and eyed mother. Her blonde hair was flying and her red lipstick was smeared all over one side of her face. “No! Mum! Don’t!”

She lunged forward with lid and used it as a tool to scratch down Ralph’s cheek. She pierced his flesh with the sharp edges and rolled it down cutting her sons cheek with a deep gash. Blood flowed freely from his face and he resisted the urge to cry in front of her. She threw the lid over her shoulder.

“You’re just the same as your father! He was a weak person, never fought back,” she leered down at Ralph. “Come on be a man, and fight!”

Ralph couldn’t resist the urge to cry any longer, and the tears that rolled out of his eyes stung his new injury. Not content with that, she then slapped his other cheek and walked out of the kitchenette. She picked up her leopard skin bag and opened it up; she took out a fag and lit up. She tidied her face up and then turned to her son.

“Mum, where are you going?” he asked through his sobs.

“I’m off to the Horse, for a drink and PROPER companionship!” she replied. She opened the door and then turned to her son. “Tidy this place up, make yourself useful for a change.”

She slammed the door shut and Ralph picked his knees up and huddled them to his chin. He began crying and after he had sobbed a bit he turned the heat off under the chip pan and looked at the clock on the video player. He grabbed a towel, and went to the freezer; he took some ice cubes out of the freezer and wrapped them in the towel. He pressed the towel to his cheek. He walked out of the flat, locked the door, and walked out of the block to catch the bus to the hospital.

~*~*~*~

“What happened, dear?” a motherly looking nurse said to him.

“Fight,” Ralph lied. “I didn’t see who it was.”

He wanted to protect his mother as much as he could. He loved her. He just wished she stop drinking. When she was sober, which were some rare but beautiful moments, she was a kind, beautiful person and she loved him. He knew deep down she loved him. She just didn’t know how to show it. He knew his mother had a problematic childhood. It was one of the few things that she said about herself when she wasn’t drunk.

The nurse peeled the towel gently away from Ralph’s cheek. It was covered in blood and Ralph winced.

“Sorry, dear, but I have to assess the damage,” she said.

“Ouch!” he exclaimed as she prodded it gently.

“Oh, it looks like a stitch job,” she said in a practical tone. “Does anyone know at home?”

“Yes,” Ralph said. “I told my mother. She was the one that told me to get to hospital.” Ralph’s stomach rumbled and the nurse looked startled at Ralph. “I haven’t had any dinner,” he explained sheepishly.

The nurse felt sorry for him and went to a vending machine and gave him a chocolate bar. “I hope you like Marathons.”

Ralph wasn’t going to complain. He tore the wrapper and ate it voraciously. She watched him with pity and sympathy in her eyes. She knew the child had lied. It was more likely the mother that did this. She encountered it every day. She didn’t understand how a mother could turn against her own child like this. But she sort of understood why the children lied.

Ralph was soon stitched up and was told to return in a week’s time to have them removed. He thanked them and got the bus back home. Thankfully his mother was still out, getting rat faced. She should have wrung The Horse’s Tail dry by now. He dreaded thinking about how the slate was tallying up. He tidied the place up and made himself some beans on toast and had a bath and went to bed.

~*~*~*~

“Victoria Green?”

“What of it?”

“Just a clarification.”

The trigger was pulled, and the gunshot echoed around the car park. The bullet went straight to the heart of the drunken woman. She limply fell to the floor.

~*~*~*~

Ralph woke up the next morning and looked around the flat for his mother, she had not returned. He shrugged his shoulders, not at all surprised. She’d caught the attention of a man most likely and went back with him. He found his favourite Clash vinyl and put it on, he punked out for a bit and then he had another bath, and got ready for school. He went to catch the bus.

“Whoh!” Paul asked noticing the stitches. “What happened?” Jack poked Paul in the ribs.

“It’s obvious in it,” he observed. “His mum’s been at the bottle agin, ain’t she?”

Paul winced. Ralph just smiled as he normally did. Showing the world he was brave, showing the world he was actually big. The bus drew up, and they got on and went to their usual seats. Ralph spotted Alfred and Alfred jeered at Ralph. Ralph shrugged his bag onto his shoulders and ignored the other boy. The three boys sat down. As the bus pulled back onto the road Ralph turned to the other two and looked at them.

“I hope you don’t mind Hank and Rachel,” he said.

“Mind Rachel?” Paul asked indignantly. “Who could mind her? She’s gorgeous.”

“What about Hank?” Ralph asked. Jack and Paul exchanged looks with each other.

“Anyone’s all right who can floor you, mate,” Jack laughed.

Ralph and Paul laughed in agreement along with Jack. The bus stopped and Rachel got on the bus and walked to the back of the bus confidently. If they told her to move, she’d just tell them to shut up. Jack let her sit next to him. The bus stopped again and Hank came on. He walked up to the back as confidently as Rachel, and sat down next to Paul.

“What happened?” Hank asked full of concern when he spotted Ralph’s stitches.

“Don’t worry, Hank, that’s his face he was born with it!” Paul said.

Rachel sniggered, but Hank looked down blushing. Ralph noticed the sincerity in Hanks concern and decided to be gentle with him.

“It’s all right, Hank, it’ll heal. They always do,” Ralph said.

“They?” Hank asked. “You mean?”

Ralph nodded and Hank gulped. Poor guy. Ralph spotted the wide-eyed innocence in Hank, a boy who thought that everybody had a good streak in them because he was good. Ralph would explain to Hank when Hank was a bit older and wiser, not yet though. He was too young to be told of certain horrors.

~*~*~*~

“Poor woman,” an officer said.

“Any relatives?” another asked.

“A neighbour said she has a fifteen year old son,” the first officer replied.

The officers looked at the woman again.

“Poor woman, indeed, it’s the kid I feel sorry for!”

~*~*~*~

Ralph had walked in with his mates in his class. A couple of girls noticed Ralph’s injury immediately and they rushed to him, pushing his friends aside to offer him pity and admiration. Paul and Jack were used to this. It was what you came to expect when you hung out with the tough boy.

Ralph looked at these girls with an impish grin on his face. He then proceeded to tell the story of how he was set upon by a big, brute of a man. The girls swooned at Ralph’s eloquent tale of how he fought the guy off.

“He was lunging at me, right, and then he came forward with his knife. I managed to divert it so that the point of the knife would end up on my cheek rather than where he was aiming at. Anyways -!”

“Anyway I think it’s time you all took to your seats!” A warm Lancashire voice said from behind them. Their tutor, Mr Thwaite, had entered the room. “That was a very entertaining story there, Mr Green, but I could tell the difference between fiction and reality.”

Mr Thwaite was the schools Drama teacher. He was middle aged, but fairly cheerful and he treated his students fairly. He was also good at drawing out each individual’s gift and using it to their advantage. He was everyone’s favourite teacher.

The class did as they were bid. Ralph sat down in the back and put his hands to the back of his head, and stretched his legs out. He flashed a charming smile to a girl sitting a few rows down from him and she smiled back and turned around to whisper to her friend.

~*~*~*~

“Do you have a pupil here that goes by the name of Green at this school?” The headmistress, Mrs Russell, blinked. She was a little concerned. She knew that Ralph was a bit of a troublemaker, but police?

“Yes, we do. He’s in T5,” she replied.

“Can we talk to him please? If it’s no bother.”

She shook her head and got up, she told the officers to wait there. She made her way to T5.

~*~*~*~

Mr Thwaite had read out the register and then the caretaker wheeled in the Television and Video. The class buzzed, they liked it when the television was brought into the classroom. Ralph was not so excited. Tutor Group bored the pants off him. He was almost going to go to sleep when his teacher said something that kept him awake.

“Sex!” Mr Thwaite exclaimed. The girls giggled and the boys blushed. “What don’t we know, and what do we know about this subject? Well, what we do know is that every generation thinks that they invented it.”

“We did, sir!” A boy yelled out.

“Simmons, you probably think that you invented the wheel,” Thwaite replied. The class laughed. Simmons blushed and looked down on his desk. “Now clever men and women all over the world devote their whole lives to writing books about this subject nowadays. Now what I want to know is, how did the great, great, great, however many greats you want to add to that, grandparents coped without them, Mr Green?”

Ralph shook himself out of his reverie. “Er? With great difficulty, sir.”

The class laughed again, and even Thwaite had a wry smile on his face.

“Very funny, Mr Green, no they experimented. They had a great deal too much time, and there was no cinemas, bowling alleys, televisions, or any of those things. The only other enjoyment they had that we do now, are books.” A girl was whispering loudly to her friend. “Share your comment, Miss Small.”

“It was nuffink, sir,” Miss Small said.

“A book, Miss Small, are those strange rectangular shaped things with front and back cover joined by a spine with pages in between with words written on them. Is that what you were wondering, Miss Small?” Thwaite asked.

She blushed. “No sir,” she replied quietly, as the class laughed again.

“You probably remember them first coming out!” Jack yelled out.

“I might be old, Mr O’Brien, but I am not THAT old,” the class laughed again. Mr Thwaite was the sort of teacher you could share a joke with and not feel like you stepped over any boundary. The class suddenly stopped laughing when Headmistress Russell walked into the classroom. She glanced once at Ralph and whispered something in Thwaite’s ear. “Mr Green, could you please follow the Headmistress back to her office.”

Ralph frowned. What had he done wrong?

~*~*~*~

Headmistress Russell opened her door, and Ralph walked in. He saw the two policemen immediately.

“I haven’t done anything!” he said defensively.

“No, son, I am sure you haven’t,” the Police officer said.

“Mr Green, this is Detective Inspector Jones, and this is Sergeant Allen.”

“Ralph Green,” Ralph introduced himself, he relaxed visibly and held out his hand. The Policemen shook it. He saw Allen bring out a notepad. “That’s spelt, R A L P H.” Allen scribbled.

“Where did your mother go last night?” The D I asked.

“The Horse’s Tail,” Ralph replied. “She went there every night. But she didn’t come home last night.”

The D I and the Sergeant looked at each other. They brought out a plastic bag.

“Do you recognise this?” the D I asked.

Ralph took it from the older mans grip and took it nearer to his person. He nodded, a lump forming in his throat. There was a blood splattered all over it, but he could tell what it was distinctly.

“It’s me mum’s,” he replied. He looked down at the leopard skin handbag.

“Son, we have something very unpleasant to tell you,” the D I said, as he knelt down on the floor, he took Ralph’s hand in his and looked in Ralph’s eyes. However tough this boy looked, he was still a child. “Do you think you’ll need a friend?”

“There’s Rachel,” Ralph said, “Rachel Snow.”

The Headmistress went to get her. She was a little apprehensive about this, how could a first year comfort a fifth year? Rachel walked in the room with a confused look showing on her brow, she sat next to Ralph and patted his arm and rubbed it, she smiled at him.

“Did your mother have any enemies?” the D I asked Ralph.

“Not many people liked her. She was almost, always drunk. That affected her personality and relationships.”

“Is that how it happened?” Rachel asked pointing at Ralph’s cheek. Ralph nodded mutely.

The policemen gave another look to each other, and the D I made Ralph look in his eyes.

“I’m very sorry, son, but your mother has been murdered!”

Headmistress Russell put a hand to her mouth in shock. Rachel gasped.

“D-dead! How?” Ralph stammered.

“A bullet, straight through the heart,” the D I said.

Ralph was stunned. Rachel hugged him. Ralph hugged her back. The Headmistress and the Policemen left the office, so that Ralph could talk with his friend about it.

“Ralph, I am so sorry,” Rachel whispered.

“She can’t be dead!” he exclaimed furiously.

“Do you want me to go?” Rachel asked, as she got up, but his hand stopped her. He grabbed hers and bought it to his lips and kissed the back of it. His eyes said it, ‘stay.’

She sat back down, and began rubbing his back. He began to cry, she hugged him to her and stroked his head. She was trying not to cry herself. He clung desperately onto her, and clawed down her back as he cried onto his new friend.

“What’s going to happen now?” Ralph asked sniffing. “I can’t go back to the flat now. I have no one, Rachel. I don’t have a father, or any grandparents, what am I going to do?”

Rachel hugged him ever tighter to her and he clung to her ever more desperately.

~*~*~*~

Mr Thwaite walked into the room when Ralph had calmed down. He was told before he walked into the Office what had happened by his boss.

“That’s terrible, Ralph,” Mr Thwaite said in soft fatherly tones. He looked quizzically at Rachel.

“I am Rachel Snow,” she introduced herself.

“Mr Thwaite,” he introduced himself. “The Drama teacher.”

“Who would kill her?” Ralph asked dully. “Yeah, so she was a lush and she wasn’t nice when she was rat faced on drink, but without the alcohol she was alright, and wonderful. She was my mother, and I loved her! Who’d want to kill her?”

“That’s what the Police will find out,” Mr Thwaite said. Rachel squeezed his hand. Mr Thwaite put a consoling hand on Ralph’s shoulder. “Is there anyone else you’d like here?”

“Hank Harris,” Ralph said. Paul and Jack were all right for a laugh, but he figured that Hank would be more understanding. He was more serious.

Ten minutes later Hank had entered the office. “The Headmistress told me what’s happened already, Ralph.”

“What am I going to do now, Hank, I have nobody.”

Mr Thwaite was startled. He looked at the youth and an overwhelming sense of pity sprung up in the man. He looked at the boy again. He was just about to suggest that he take the boy in, but Hank jumped in first.

“You can stay at my place overnight. I am sure my mum won’t mind.”

Ralph didn’t hear Hanks suggestion, but Mr Thwaite slipped out of the office to tell the Headmistress to telephone Mrs Harris, and to tell her what had happened, and to expect her son to be home early today with a guest.

~*~*~*~

“How could anyone do this to my mother?” Ralph asked. Hank and Rachel shared a look.

Rachel took Hank to one side and told Hank what he obviously missed out on. She even told him how Ralph came by that scar. Hank looked at Ralph and shook his head. He really felt sorry for Ralph now. It was obvious that what his new friend needed was a decent home, and Hank had one.

He walked up to Ralph and picked up his friends bag, and he glanced back at Rachel, she stepped up to him.

“I’ll look after him,” Hank whispered. She nodded, and he kissed her on the cheek. Ralph was oblivious to the whole exchange.
He picked up Ralph’s hand and drew him out of the chair. Shock had disabled Ralph and he found it difficult to find his legs. Rachel supported Ralph’s other side.

“Where are we going?” Ralph asked.

“My place,” Hank said, “you’re going to stay with me tonight.”

~*~*~*~

Half an hour later Hank and Ralph were at the front door of Hanks home. The door was a nice blue colour, Ralph noticed. Hank rung the doorbell and Ralph noticed a scruffy black haired boy with blue eyes and blotchy face.

“Why aren’t you in dool?” he asked.

“My younger brother, Jimmie,” Hank said.

“It’s Dames!” James explained hotly.

Ralph normally would have laughed, but he couldn’t find the situation funny.

“I am Ralph,” he said dully. Hank led Ralph over the step and he put their bags next to each other in the hall.

“Where’s mum, James?” Hank asked.

“In de kitchen,” James sniffed. Hank ruffled Jim’s hair and walked down the hall and opened the door to the kitchen. Ralph followed. He walked into the kitchen and saw a rather motherly blonde woman with brown eyes. Her cheeks were smudged with flour, and she was putting a chocolate cake in the oven. She wiped her hands on her apron and she held her arms out. Ralph rushed into them. Hank quietly slipped out of the room.

~*~*~*~

Hank went into the living room where James had a pile of Walt Disney videos next to the player. James loved musicals, and he adored every single Walt Disney film ever made. Hank had just settled down to The Jungle Book when Daniel had vomited all over the top of his table. Hank rolled his eyes and got up to tend to his youngest brother. He walked past the kitchen where he heard muffled voices.

He got the cleaning detergents from the cupboard, and then he went to the downstairs toilet, he picked up the bowl and filled it with water. He carried it to the living room to clear up his baby brothers sick. Once that was cleared up, Ralph had walked out of the kitchen and he settled on the sofa. He decided to lose himself in something silly. Besides, he didn’t mind The Jungle Book. Hank looked at Ralph, but he stopped when it was obvious that Ralph didn’t want to talk about it.

~*~*~*~

Hank and Ralph were in Hank’s room. Ralph looked around, it was nice, very IN with the black and red design and, Ralph noticed, there were a lot of books. He liked books, as he found books to be a way to escape from reality.

“Do you want me to go?” Hank asked.

“No,” Ralph said. “It’s all right, I think that now I am more at the acceptance stage.”

Hank nodded. He was just about to reply but his door burst open and someone walked in. Ralph found himself being confronted by a sour faced, mousy blonde haired little girl.

“Hank,” the girl said. “I think that mums gone loopy. She’s put another dinner plate on the table.”

Hank turned aside and she immediately saw Ralph. She blushed a bit and then she turned her head down to look at Hank’s grey carpet.

“H-hello,” she stammered. She turned on her heel and immediately ran out of the room.

“That was my little sister Anna,” Hank said. “I don’t know what got into her, she’s normally okay about strangers.”

“HANK, DINNER!” Mrs Harris yelled.

“Look, soon the whole family will find out,” Hank said as a warning, on their way down the stairs.

“As long as the world doesn’t find out,” Ralph replied, trying to grin.

~*~*~*~

Ralph observed Hanks parents and they were obviously in love with each other. He was rather tall, and elegant looking with dark hair, and blue/green eyes. Ralph decided to eat his chicken and mushroom pie silently.

“Ralph, Gertie and I have been thinking something over,” Mr Harris said. “My wife informs me that you have no living relatives to your knowledge.”

Ralph nodded. “Yes.”

“Well, we have decided to let you live with us. You’re almost finished your schooling.”

“But won’t that inconvenience you?” he asked as he surveyed the large, friendly family.

“Nonsense,” Mr Harris boomed. “And you’re to call me Harry and my wife Gertrude.”

“Thank you,” Ralph said.

“Great!” Anna mumbled.

“What, Anna?” Hank asked.

“Another brother!” she said moodily, as she crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at the three she already had.

“Well, Anna,” Ralph began, “I heard that sisters aren’t so hot either!”

The family laughed and her scowl deepened further.

~*~*~*~

Ralph settled into his new bedroom. It was the spare bedroom, but they felt that he couldn’t share with Hank as both were used to their own space. He laid back on the bed in the pair of borrowed pyjamas and put his hands behind his head and sighed.

There was a faint knock on the door and he said come in. Gertrude came in with a cup of hot chocolate and a slice of chocolate cake. She smiled at Ralph. She admitted that he was rough around the edges, but then he could hardly help it having a mother like that. She would, of course, suggest that he grow his hair, and get rid of the earring.

“Are you comfortable, dear?” she asked.

Ralph nodded. He looked into her kind, caring eyes. “I am, thank you, Gertie.”

She smiled, and leant over and kissed him on the forehead. He blushed.

“Is there anything else you’d like?” she asked.

“A book to read, thank you.”

Gertie walked over to the bookshelf and selected a book for him. He looked at it and smiled. It was a fantasy book; he needed some fantasy right now.

“Good night, Ralph,” Gertie said gently. She walked out of the room and quietly shut the door.

“Good night,” he murmured.

He ate the cake, and drank his chocolate. He read some of the book and then put it down. He got up to turn the main light off and then settled back into bed to sleep. He slept well for the first time in ages, he no longer had to worry about his mother, her troubles were over.

A/N - Please readers, review... if you like it say so, if you have ideas and constructive criticism, please give... I want to publish this story eventually so, please tell me what you think!