The Secrets.

Morgan

I pulled my brown hair into a tight bun and gazed at myself in the full length mirror that balanced against the bedroom wall. Daryn wasn't much of a 'do it yourself' guy and I don't even know how to operate a screwdriver properly. We managed to scrape up the rent for our flat with just enough left over to live on so we didn't really have enough money to get a professional to put the mirror up. The obvious thing is to get a friend to put it up but I and Daryn are extremely reclusive, my only friends are from work but I couldn't really class them as proper friends. They're work mates, nothing more and Daryn doesn't even have that. He works at a quiet bookshop in the backstreets and his boss is an aged man who can't make it down the stairs on a morning without help. Social skills are hard to come by for us.

Straightening my jacket I was finally happy with my appearance and left the apartment, locking the door as Daryn wouldn't be home till late. My bag was heavy with the money I had taken from Daryn and I's bank account, a hefty sum of almost seven hundred pounds. Stupid as it was I was planning to take a taxi from Oxford to my old foster home in Leeds. Important doesn't even cover how much I need to find Lawrie, she needs to assist me in ending Sian's case and find her killer. I can't do it without her. Even though I haven't had contact with her in years, she's still worth more than seven hundred pounds to me. Money is nothing in comparison to family.

As I slipped out the door to my block of flats the white saloon taxi pulled up and a balding man leaned out the open driver's window.

"Morgan Miller?" He inquired as he made a quick glance to my name scrawled on his hand.

I nodded and opened the back door of the taxi.

"Five hundred pound there and back, an extra fifteen for every extra hour I’m waiting for you." He explained, his eyes looking expectantly at the bag clutched in my hands. I pulled my purse out and handed over the handful of twenties I'd counted this morning. "Ta. I'm Dave."

"Hi." I replied shyly. Stories about girls being kidnapped by taxi drivers filled my head. What if he stole all my remaining money then drove me down a dark alley, the doors locked and my life ended. Breathe, I told myself, he just wants to earn his money, he doesn't mean any harm.

"You OK, you seem a little scared?" Dave asked, a general look of concern crossing his slightly wrinkled face.

"Peachy." I chocked out when I really was anything but.

Dave smirked at me, he obviously had picked up the reason I was scared.

"Oh don't worry, Morgan. It's only twelve hours we'll be spending together." Dave laughed heartily. He pulled away from the curb still laughing. "There and back!"

I slouched back in my seat, mentally cursing. Why did I have to get the annoying driver? Just kill me now.



It was two o'clock when we finally arrived at my destination. It's once bright paint was well worn and the plants were overgrown. I could still hear the joyful, playful shouts of the children rushing round yet despite that I knew this place was filled with sadness. I brushed some of the leaves and dirt of the sign at the front of the building revealing the name. Monday Child's Foster Home.

"I'll be an hour." I said to Dave, "I might be a little longer so go get a late lunch."

"Sure thing," He replied with a wink then drove off, his arm sticking out the car window. He didn't scare me as much as he did at first, but he was still pretty terrifying in other aspects.

Taking in a deep breath I walked through the rusted gates and headed towards the front door. A small girl with red hair and pigtails offered to show me the way but I shook my head and turned down her offer politely. I used to live here, I probably know my way around better than most of the children.

I walked past the kitchen which always had the strong smell of cakes and bread wafting from it, the toilet which no-one dared go to because there used to be a giant spider in their, and finally the rainbow colored door which held a plaque saying 'Office'. That used to amuse me as it stated the blatantly obvious. Thinking back, it wasn't really that funny at all and a lot of the things which humored me then probably weren't ever. When your whole life is sad, you look for anything to make it seem brighter because the truly funny stuff might remind you of that loved one you lost.

After a small chuckle that probably made me look crazy I knocked on the door. Two sharp taps, business like. Hopefully that wasn't a knock the children made so the door would be open straight away. The carers here were notorious for not answering the office door for children, especially if they were shrieking or crying. No-one really cared for each other in this hell hole.

The rainbow door swings open quickly to reveal a curvaceous middle aged women, she smiled politely at me.

"Hello, I'm looking for Mrs. Crooks. My name is Morgan Miller; I used to live here when I was younger." I introduced myself as formal as I could; holding my hand out to be shook. The women shook it, a small smile playing on her painted red lips.

"Hi, Morgan. I'm Helda Crooks. Miss not Mrs by the way." She laughs heartily and her eyes crinkled slightly. Obviously, she had a story to tell on that matter which I would probably be hearing later. "I presume you're looking for my mother, Mildred. I'm sorry to say but she died two years ago. I took over this place for her but I still have all her records if there's someone you’re looking for."

I nodded and despite Mrs Crook’s sometimes harsh ways I was generally sad to hear that she had passed away. I had experienced death in the family yet I don't know how to respond to the fact that Mrs Crooks had died. Instead, even though it was insensitive, I carried on regardless to this news.

"I'm looking for new of my sister, Lawrie Miller, I wonder if you have any records of her current whereabouts or if you know where she went after I left for Collage and University." I inquired.

Helda opened the door wider and signaled for me to come inside then tapped on the arm of a low sofa, silently asking for me to sit. I sunk down onto the seat, remembering this is where I sat when I first arrived at Monday's Child.

Helda rummaged loudly through a filling cabinet and eventually pulled out a thick brown folder with Lawrie and I's last name stamped across it. She sat down next to me and pulled a coffee table closer to us so she could spread out all our information. Within the folder there were two paper clipped sections, one with the name tag Morgan, the other Lawrie.

I was handed Lawrie's folder and I began quickly reading over it whilst Helda stood and headed towards a kettle at the other side of the room.

"Hot chocolate?" She asked, smiling brightly. "I can't stand caffeine."

I nodded in response, "Me neither."

I went back to reading the file, picking up the important bits of information. I skipped family history and general information. I didn't need to know when Lawrie's birthday was or her eye color, or her hair color; we were identical triplets so everything I know about me reflects onto Lawrie.

Finally, I reached the part on her departure. There was an address, a mobile number and a work address.

There was a slight clunk as Helda put the two hot chocolates on the table in front of us; she glanced at the information in my hands. "Oh, I remember her now. She visited once or twice in the past. Hardly looks like you anymore!" She laughs again, "Got a handsome boyfriend too."

A lot of emotions crowded my brain all at once. I was confused at how she could look so different, angry that even though she'd been here she hadn't made contact with me, upset that she was so far away from my home but overall I was relieved that she was alive and hopefully well.

My mouth opened to say a question but my words tumbled out all at once and I ended up with an unintelligent splutter. Helda smiled again, her eyes crinkling. She reached out and tapped my knee lightly. "She looks different because you look so natural. She has shocking red hair and likes eyeliner and the color black a little too much. I can't remember the purpose of her visits either though; they were quite a while ago. You're twenty one, right. Lawrie visited when my mum was still alive so she would have been eighteen or nineteen. She left this place not long after you did.”

"I'm glad she's alright." I whispered. I am, truly, but that cloud of worry and taunting from Death is still there. If she visited a few times why did she stop coming back?

Helda took Lawrie's papers from me, put them in the folder then handed the whole information to me. "Keep it." She said kindly. "We're not meant to keep your information after you reach a certain age for safety and privacy reasons. You can keep it."

“Thank you so much.” I replied taking the folder and holding it tightly. The fact that Lawrie was now reachable made me suddenly emotional. “I really must go, I’m sorry, Helda.”

She smiled brightly at me, “Go find your sister, Morgan. I know you’ll come back to thank me when you do.”

I jumped up from the sofa and grabbed my stuff, waving a goodbye to Helda as I dashed out the door. Somehow, I think I will see Helda again.



“We’re gonna have to head back to London now, love. We’ll never get back in time if we don’t.” Dave advised me again. It was probably the tenth time he’d said that, I hadn’t been listening that well; all my attention had been glued to the passing flats and houses desperate to find the address of Lawrie.

“OK,” I sighed softly, finally dragging my eyes away.

A loud obnoxious ringing sounded out and my purse sat next to me began to shake violently. Rummaging through it I pulled out my phone. The screen read only a number, no name.

“Hello?”

“Is that Morgan?” An identical voice to my own answered back.

“LAWRIE!” I screamed so loud Dave swerved the taxi violently. I leaned over the seat to the front, my body shaking. “Pull over please, Dave.” I managed to croak out calmly.

“Oh my god I can’t believe you haven’t changed your phone. Thank goodness. Where are you?” Lawrie asked, she sounded so happy to talk to me she sounded so natural as if it hadn’t been years since we talked.

“I’m in Leeds.” I replied quickly. Dave glanced at me weirdly as I talked exasperatedly to my sister.

A gasp came through the phone. “You’re in Leeds? What- how come? Just please come visit me if you can. I’m near Beeston.” She read out her address and I repeated it to Dave who looked hesitant but drove me to my destination.

“I’ll see you soon.” Lawrie said, “I have to go, my credit is low.”

The phone bleeped as Lawrie put the phone down. I smiled to myself and my body relaxed. I thought I’d be scared if I found her. I wouldn’t know what to say, how to react but she seems so blissfully happy. She must have the life she wanted; she must be an upcoming actress performing somewhere.

Dave kept glancing into the rear-view mirror his eyes nervously staring at me.

“What’s wrong? If you want to go back I can stay with Lawrie, I’m sure she’ll be happy to let me stay for a while.” I explained to him but he still looked worried.

“You grew up in Leeds but you don’t know about Beeston?” He asked.

“I didn’t grow up here.” I replied. “Just lived here a small while. Sort of.” I drew off my mood slightly distinguished at the memory.

The car turned round a corner and I realized why Dave had said what he said.

“She can’t live here.” I whispered shaking my head, “This can’t be where my sister lives.”