She had just stepped out of the car and onto the pavement when the front door of the candyfloss house was flung open to reveal a beaming Elspeth. Her blonde hair was held back in a banana clip so that when she turned her head the curls fell past her shoulders. She was wearing a smart jacket with padded shoulders and a matching knee-length fitted skirt. Katy couldn’t believe this elegant lady was going to be her new mum. She looked like the mum out of the film E.T.
Elspeth came rushing towards them, her husband, Huw, close behind. He was older than Elspeth by nearly fifteen years. Katy knew this because Elspeth had told her over a cream tea when she last visited. Huw certainly looked older, with his receding hairline and his bushy grey beard. He was something to do with hedge funds, so Elspeth had said, sitting up straighter and looking proud when she revealed this nugget of information. Katy didn’t know what hedge funds were but she thought it had something to do with gardens. And judging by the box hedging in the McKenzies’ front garden she could imagine Huw out there trimming them into the perfect right-angles.
Elspeth darted out of the front gate to greet her. ‘Darling girl,’ she said, holding her shoulders. ‘Let me look at you. Just as pretty as I remembered.’ Katy blushed. She didn’t feel pretty. She wasn’t like Isla at the home with her silky black hair, pert nose and skinny limbs. Elspeth placed an arm around Katy’s shoulders, guiding her down the pathway and into the house. Huw was hovering, grinning manically but not saying anything, as though he didn’t really know what to do. Katy understood how he felt. Fiona followed with Katy’s battered old suitcase. ‘This is our new home,’ trilled Elspeth. ‘We only moved in here recently. Oh, I do hope you like it.’
Katy stared at the hallway in awe. The staircase was like something out of Dynasty, and a huge crystal chandelier hung above their heads, the droplets catching the sunlight that streamed through the stained-glass window above the door, casting rainbow colours onto the pale walls. Even Fiona couldn’t help but gawp at the interiors, exclaiming over a portrait of a man in old-fashioned dress on the wall, which Katy thought was ugly.
‘Where’s Viola? She’s desperate to meet you,’ said Elspeth, looking around with a frown on her face. Viola, that was it! Such an unusual name. ‘Oh, the naughty girl, I bet she’s out in the garden again. She’ll get her dress mucky.’
Katy stared down at her own velvet knickerbocker jumpsuit. It was her very best outfit, reserved for special church services and Christmas Day, but now she felt under-dressed and not quite right for this posh house and the posh people within it.
‘I’ll go and find her,’ said Huw, treating Katy to a reassuring wink and then setting off through a room with floor-to-ceiling bookcases. Katy wondered how she’d ever be able to find her way around this house. The children’s home was quite big, but she’d been living there for three years now and she was used to every nook and cranny. It still wasn’t as big as this house, though, and definitely not as grand. There, she’d had to share a room with two other girls, the carpets were worn and the place needed decorating. She’d had posters of Spandau Ballet on her walls just to cover the cracks and the dirty handprints.
Elspeth ushered Katy into another room, with a view of the famous bridge, and she and Fiona perched on the velvet sofa that was the colour of ink, Katy’s old brown suitcase at their feet. Elspeth stood by the fireplace. She seemed on edge, jiggling about as though she needed the loo. On the coffee-table there was a tray of little cakes and a jug of lemonade. Katy still had the annoying butterflies flapping around in her stomach but she could really eat one of those French Fancies. The yellow ones were her favourite. She didn’t dare ask, though, and Elspeth didn’t offer. Instead she stood there wringing her hands and fidgeting, her beautiful face crumpled with concern. ‘I don’t know where they’ve got to,’ she said, to nobody in particular. ‘I wanted Viola to come here to greet you.’
Katy heard Viola before she saw her. A screech and a high posh voice shouted, ‘Get off me! I said I’m coming!’ And then there she was, standing in the doorway, resplendent in a pink gingham dress with long white socks that wrinkled around her ankles. There were grass stains on her knees. She was pretty, like Isla at the home, with long white-blonde hair and a perfect oval face. Katy had already been told that Viola was eighteen months older than her, although two school years above, which would make her nearly thirteen. She didn’t look it, though. She looked young and innocent in that dress. It was more like something an eight-year-old would wear. She had a matching Alice band atop her long fine hair that she’d pushed forward too much so it made her ears stick out. She scowled at Katy and Katy’s heart plummeted. She’d really hoped they would become best friends as well as sisters. Elspeth moved so that she was standing behind Katy, her arms around her. She liked being in Elspeth’s arms. It made her feel wanted and she smelt sweet, like Love Hearts. ‘This is your new sister,’ she said, to Viola. ‘I hope you’ll make her welcome.’ Then Elspeth turned to Fiona, not bothering to lower her voice: ‘It will do Viola good to share. She’s becoming a little spoilt. I couldn’t have any more children, sadly.’