Chapter one - Jake

The air conditioning is on full, or that's what the dial says, but I can feel the sweat causing my t-shirt to stick to my back against the fake leather seats of Marcus' car as we embark on hour two of the drive to our next house.

"I want you to promise me you won't get into trouble here." Marcus glances at me nervously from the corner of his eye as he drives. 

He's uncomfortable around me, they always are, my reputation frightens them. But, they all want to be the one to 'get through to the troubled kid' so he spent nearly the first full hour trying to befriend us and now, as per Social Worker training 101, he's going to attempt to reason with us, thinking he's got us onside and he'll be able to successfully manipulate us into the perfect little foster kids. 

It's a waste of his breath, we know the drill, we've been in more homes than he's had hot dinners, or so that saying goes. Some good, some bad, but this is the first one that's willing to take four teenage boys all together, so not one of us wants to fuck it up.

"Jake, buddy…" Marcus' patronising tone makes my muscles tense and my fists clench.

Buddy? The twat's no more than five or six years older than me and is speaking to me like he's my father.

Lloyd catches my eye in the wing mirror and chuckes quietly from the back seat. I can feel Marcus' eyes on me, waiting to impart whatever worldly wisdom or embarrassing cliché he feels will get through to me and I want to tell him to go fuck himself. 

But then I remember where we're headed, a house where I will actually live with my brother's. Not one where I'll have to watch them from the street, or climb in through the window and sleep on their floor, so I grit my teeth, roll my head towards him and force the tension from my body, pretending I don't notice the flicker of fear that crosses his face when our eyes meet.

"Ms Redwood is willing to give you all a chance here. She's a dear old thing and many of us think she might be taking on more than she can handle with you." I can't help my lips from curling up into a small smile at his words. 

The first thing every social worker ever tells us is 'none of this is our fault', even when some of them clearly think we're irritating delinquents. 

Obviously Marcus has prejudged me from my file, one filled out by the social workers and numerous foster parents without bothering to get our side of events. 

To give him a little credit, he pauses as though he realises what he's just said and needs to find a way of correcting it. 

"Four teenage boys is a lot for anyone to handle, but, despite the fact that she's in her later years, she was adamant on taking all of you together and I know you want that, so you all need to behave yourself." He's nodding along with his own words, which is what the last three social workers used to do too and I wonder if it's some psychological trick they teach them, something to make us believe what they say more readily. "If you can settle here, Jake, then maybe when you turn eighteen, we can help you find a place nearby and you can visit them, knowing they're safe. Once you've got a council flat, the process of moving you is out of our hands, so if we have to move your brother's, you won't be able to follow. I'm telling you this for your benefit, because I know you want to stay together, so it's in your best interest to behave yourself."

"Uh huh." He makes a frustrated sort of growl in the back of his throat, but carries on driving. 

I can see the sea in the distance which will please Mason, he's always wanted to try surfing and, sure enough, I watch as his eyes light up, his elbow crashing into Lloyds ribs and pointing towards the water.

Marcus doesn't say anything else as he focuses on the sat nav, following the directions down roads that look identical, before finally pulling up to a little yellow house with bright flowers covering almost every inch of the front garden. 

As soon as I open the car door, I'm very aware of the hum of insects buzzing around the flowers and even though there's a house either side of this one, the high hedges make it seem like there are no neighbours.

"We're here." Marcus breathes a sigh of relief, stepping out of the car and heading straight to the front door to knock.

"Home sweet temporary home." Mason grins at me, over extending the handle to open the door.

"He's a dick, but he's right, best behaviour." I stare at each of my brother's in turn, but Lloyd just laughs, shoving my shoulder.

"He was talking to you, dickhead. The rest of us are perfect little angels in comparison." He pretends to dust his imaginary halo, a wide grin on his face when I snort my laughter.

Both of us fall silent when the bright purple front door swings open, revealing a short, friendly looking woman with almost entirely white hair.

"Let's go make nice." I slip out of the car, hearing the doors behind me close just as softly as mine and we walk single file, bags in hand, trying to look harmless and compliant.

"Thank you Marcus, if you're happy to go, I am. I know we're going to be just fine." I chance a glance up at her and she smiles broadly, taking a step out of the doorway and gesturing inside. "Why don't you four go on in and get comfortable? There's a toilet just to the left here and then the main bathroom is upstairs if you need it."

"Thank you, Ms Redwood." Marcus shakes her hand, then smiles at us warmly, as though he actually cares about our happiness which we all know is a lie. Probably even old Ms Redwood here knows it, especially when he practically jogs back to his car and wheel spins out of the drive.

The door opens straight into a cosy looking living room, blankets are folded neatly alone the back of a large sunshine yellow sofa, which, along with two matching yellow armchairs, point at a flat screen TV on the wall over an open fireplace. On the far wall is a bookshelf, crammed with books and the top is lined with dolphin ornaments.

"Come in, sit down, you're making the place look untidy." Ms Redwood nips between us, taking a seat in one of the armchairs and gesturing to a tray filled with biscuits, homemade by the irregularity of them. "Help yourselves."

We sit squashed side by side, all four of us perched uncomfortably on the edge of the sofa as she lifts a pot of tea and pours it into five tiny china cups.

"Milk, sugar." She points to two smaller pots on the tray then looks up, suddenly bursting into laughter. "Oh good lord I thought that sofa was big until I see the four of you all squished together on it. Try to relax, I know it must be hard coming into a new place, but this is your home now, one of you move onto the other chair."

She continues chuckling to herself as she places a cup in front of each of us and I do as she says and move to the spare chair.

"Now lads, I want to make a deal with you." She says ominously and I feel myself go on alert, she holds up a thick file with our surname written on the top right-hand side. "They handed me this here file when I decided to take you, said I needed to read about your past behaviours and make sure I was capable of handling four near grown lads."

Rolling her eyes, she tosses it onto the floor beside the fireplace and looks at all of us in turn.

"I haven't read it and I don't intend to. There's nothing in there that would have changed my mind about you coming. Don't matter what you did before, you're here now and so I'll see how you are from now on." She lifts her cup towards her mouth and then pauses as though she's changed her mind and lowers the cup back to the saucer in her hand. "None of you have got any allergies or medical issues I need to know about, have you? Probably best I don't accidentally kill any of you off. Not right away anyway."

She chuckles again, picking up a biscuit and dipping it into her tea while she waits for us to answer.

"No, Ma'am, no allergies or medical issues." I speak for the four of us, but they watch her carefully, prepared to add something if she wants them to.

"Ma'am." Ms Redwood chokes out the word, placing her biscuit on her saucer and looking directly at me. "Good god child, I know I probably look ancient to you, but I'm still young in my books. You will call me Marguerite, or Maggie, I hear a Ma'am again and I'll be using the money they give me for your food and botoxing my entire body."

Mason lets out a laugh and she grins at him 

"Finally, I wondered which one of you'd be the first to crack when I saw the little choir boy act you all had going on." She lifts the tray of biscuits, holding it under Mason's nose until he picks one and takes a bite.

"Oh shit, these are good." He moans, earning him a swift kick to the ankle from Lloyd beside him. "Ow, shit. I'm sorry, I didn't expect them to be that good."

"Ok, now let me try and guess…" Ms Redwood, Marguerite, picks up her biscuit and dips it again, looking at all of us then pointing at me. "Are you Jacob?" 

"Yes Ma'a…" She narrows her eyes at me, so I quickly rectify my response, elongating the ah and she nods approvingly when I say. "Marguerite."

"Kian, you're the youngest, yes?" She nods at Kian and he gives her a little wave.

"So, that just leaves Mason and Lloyd." She squints at the pair of them, despite being a year apart, they could pass for twins. Both sharing the same shaggy black hair and blue eyes, with matching muscular builds that make them first pick for most of the sports teams in each school we've ever attended.

"I'm Lloyd and he's Mason." Lloyd points his thumb at Mason, who is finishing off his second biscuit.

"Ok, lovely, now, I wasn't sure about how you wanted to sleep. I've given you all your own bedrooms, I have five older brothers and it would have been bedlam if they'd had to share growing up, but if you'd prefer it, you're more than welcome to have a shift around. How about I show you your rooms, then I make us some lunch and we can all get to know each other a little bit." She smiles warmly and unlike Marcus', hers seems genuine. "I usually do a bit of gardening after lunch, so you're welcome to join me, or if you want to go and sort your rooms out that's fine too. The beach is only fifteen minutes walk down the road and there's a bus stop nearby if you want to go into town. I know you don't know the area yet, so it's really up to you."

"Thank you, Marguerite." I stand, picking up my bag and knowing my brother's are doing the same thing. 

She stands up next to me, her head only barely reaching my chest, but, unlike the other foster families we've had, it doesn't seem to faze her, she just slip past me, and motions for us to follow her up the stairs.

She points to each room as soon as we reach the upstairs landing, opening the door to a shared bathroom to show us where it is. 

"I've done the bedrooms very basic, so you can do what you want with them, posters or whatever you want." She says, standing at the top of the stairs. "Go on and settle in for a bit. I'll give you a shout when lunch is ready." 

With that, she heads back downstairs, leaving us in the landing, staring at one another.

Kian is the first one to open the door to his new room, but we all follow suit fairly quickly, eager to investigate our own space.

My room is sparse, but somehow cosy at the same time, the walls are plain magnolia, there's a white wooden desk with a lamp and chair, a chest of drawers, wardrobe and bedside tables either side of a double bed, which I'm immensely glad of. 

Most of the homes give us single beds, which is never very comfortable when you're six foot four and roughly fourteen stone, most of that made up of muscle, a necessity when some of the blokes that are supposed to take care of us weigh a lot more than that in pure fat.

It doesn't take long to unpack, mostly clothes, a few books and not much else, you don't tend to accumulate when you move around as regularly as we do. 

I lie down on the bed, my eyes closing happily when I feel the soft mattress mould to my body and I can't wait to crawl into it and sleep well into tomorrow morning.

"Maggie says lunch is ready." Mason leans on my doorframe, his hands gripping the top, he lifts himself up and swings from his fingertips.

"Get off, you're going to break it." I tell him and he just smirks at me, curling his legs alternatively, like he's riding an invisible bicycle.

"This'd hold you, you fat fuck and I'm half your size." 

"Language." I hiss, worried that as relaxed as Marguerite seems to be, little old ladies tend not to like it when they hear words like that fall from your mouth.

"Ease up, she's cool." He drops onto the balls of his feet, jabbing at my arm as I pass him.

"Come on, are the others already down there?" He doesn't need to answer, because we can already hear voices and laughter coming from downstairs.

We follow them into the kitchen, where Marguerite is cooking up a storm, while Lloyd is perched on the table, picking at the ingredients while listening to whatever story she's telling them and Kian is setting the table.

"Ah, boys, just in time. I was going to do sandwiches, but then I saw the chicken in the fridge and thought to myself… fajitas." She lifts the frying pan off the cooker, spoons the mixture into a large bowl and taps Lloyds leg. "Stop eating and make yourself useful, this goes in the centre, the sour cream, salsa and guacamole are in the fridge. Mason, the wraps are in the little cupboard behind you."

"Ki, grab this and the stuff from the fridge, quickly." Lloyd shouts over and Kian immediately crosses to the fridge.

"You stop right there Kian, my lovely." Marguerite sets the pan back on the over, moves to the table and sits down, patting the seat beside her. "You come and sit down, Lloyd'll bring the stuff we need and we can have a chat."

"Um… ok?" Kian glances at me before sitting down in the seat she pushed out from under the table. 

I give him a wink to tell him I'm here and then pretend I'm not listening to her.

"I had five huge brothers growing up, but I was the one to be scared of and do you know why?" She leans in close to my brother, who at thirteen, has yet to develop his muscles like the three of us.

Despite repeatedly trying to reassure him that we were each as skinny as he is back when we were his age, he doesn't remember it that way and, added to his bright red hair, his differences have been pointed out a number of times by the foster families. One particularly nasty woman suggesting he wasn't actually our brother.

"When you're the tiniest, youngest of the family, you get underestimated. Ignored. It's a blessing and a curse, however, if you play your cards right, sometimes you can be completely invisible. So you can hear things that no one knows you heard. See things they don't know you see. Knowledge can be far more powerful than brute strength in the right circumstances."

Kian smiles warmly at her, Lloyd and Mason already building their fajitas, and I slide into the remaining seat, picking up a wrap and spooning the mixture in. Watching everyone and deciding that I need to get a decent paying job, because if this place doesn't work out, at least I'll be eighteen, I could fight for the right to take over guardianship of my brothers and this is exactly the sort of atmosphere I want to create for them.