My heart plummets at what I find. An amusement arcade. And it’s not of the Las Vegas come-hither, multicoloured, flashing-lights variety. It’s squat and dingy. Large tepid-coloured yellow lightbulbs spell out ‘Amusements’， the ‘a’， ‘u’ and ‘s’ flickering as if they’re about to go out. There’s nothing amusing about this place. It’s where people enter with dreams and leave broke and broken. And, by the looks of the four lads outside, I suspect that gambling isn’t the only transaction going on here. Their heads are huddled together, making it hard to see where one ends and the other begins. A collective cloud of smoke rises above them like a Victorian mist. From the pungent smell of their smoke, they aren’t indulging in cigarettes. When the guys openly gawk at me, I feel their menace and danger. They aren’t hostile but one of them sends me a ‘this is our turf, and you best not forget it’ cocky-boy glare.
I’m appalled by this place. How could the woman who gave birth to me have left me here? At an amusement arcade? This doesn’t make any sense. Why didn’t my mother leave me somewhere clean, full of linen-fresh sunshine and light so someone would soon find me. Maybe on a park bench beneath a huge tree with the sweetest scented white and pink blossom. Or on the bumpy backseat upstairs on a bus where there’s the constant traffic of people. How could she leave me here? How could a woman carry a child, nourish it and then dump it in a dank, nasty place like this?
How? How? How? The scream ricochets, denting the corners of my mind.
My eyes bitterly cast around, imagining where she might have left me exactly. Maybe it was over there: that corner where the shadows lie thick over each other, creating a deep nothingness only fit for nightmares. Or maybe it was to the side of the building, where the stench of piss on the walls has dried into a patchwork of white stains. Or there. Or over there. Each spot I find is bleaker than the last.
Suddenly the sound of the rain is displaced by the pitiful mewling of a baby. I know it’s not real. It’s my distorted mind playing the worst type of trick on me. Baby-me is crying and soon those sobs will twist into agonised wails.
Trash baby.
No. Thing.
I see the young men staring at me again, but this time their features are etched with concern. I have to get away from the emotional toxic grave I’m falling into. My feet almost tangle as I rush away. I don’t want anyone to see me like this. Somehow, I find myself in an alley, leaning against the wall of a building three doors down. And I’m doubled over, sobbing, mouth gaping, gulping rain and tears. All the old insecurities I buried long ago rise up. I feel worthless. I’m Little Eva again with the shaven head of a prisoner.
‘You all right there, sweetheart?’ The voice that comes out of the dark startles me.
I punch off the wall on high alert, peer into the shadows. ‘Who’s there?’
‘I didn’t mean to scare you. I never could deal with the sound of a woman’s tears.’
Strangely, I’m not frightened as I tentatively step deeper into the alley. There’s an older woman standing in the back doorway of the building next door. Her hair’s pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail and she’s clutching a broom.
I figure out that she must have something to do with the building. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.’
‘What’s happened? Your man left you?’ She clucks her tongue in disapproval before I can set her straight. ‘Mine left me fifteen years back.’ A satisfied grin lights up the darkness around her. ‘I haven’t had a bad day since. Miserable sod. Pity the woman he’s giving grief to now.’
I can’t help smiling at that. ‘Do you know this area?’ I ask.
Her chest plumps up in obvious pride. ‘Know the area? I’ve been the manager of this here shoe shop for the last thirty-five years. I’ll be retiring come Christmas.’ Sourness pushes the good humour off her face. ‘And not a day too soon since the old boss passed the business to his kids. What a bunch of cretins. You mark my words: come next year this business will be ground into the dirt.’
I step closer, hope suddenly blooming. ‘Do you remember a baby being abandoned outside the arcade down the road? It was twenty-eight-years ago.’
Her lips compress into a thin line as she stamps her broom on the ground with force. ‘I remember it like yesterday. It was all some of the customers could talk about the next day.’
‘Do you know who found her? The baby?’
Her head shakes. ‘All everyone kept saying was the mother needed stringing up. A crying shame, if you ask me, that folk were wishing her ill. She must’ve been in a proper state. It must’ve broken her heart leaving her baby here like that.’ Her voice dropped. ‘Mind you, knowing how my third one turned out I wouldn’t have minded leaving him there.’