All Chapters of Foster: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10
51 Chapters
Chapter 1 Part 1
You know the Fosters. Everyone does. From the beautiful Victorian on the bend. A stone’s throw from the canal. Damon was a policeman, back in the day. Discharged on pension. Went on to become a cardiologist—best one within a reasonable drive. I hear they pay him a fortune. Sasha is Sasha. Quiet. Beautiful. Flaming red hair. Skin the colour of bleached parchment. A tall one, she is. The ladies at the church told me she works reception at the hospital. Same one as her father, I think. Women like that do not have much direction. I mean, they have the looks to not need it. They will find a husband. A decent one. Marry into some money. Have a few babes. She was a Ward of Court, staying at a care home just on the edge of town. Not many people went there. The edge of town, that is. Until Damon did. And one day, Sasha crawled out of that luxury four-by-four of his. Waddled up to the door of the Victorian on the bend. Their life seemed perf
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Chapter 1 Part 2
December 1st, 2012 Midday I woke in a panic this morning. I think it was still in my eyes when I went to the kitchen for coffee because Damon has this look about him. And I think it was all in my head, but he looked like he knew that I had something to dread and couldn’t believe that I did. He sent me off to Gaddings dam with his car. To relax. Rain began to splatter the windshield, breaking up the saltwater fog. With swelling dots. The sound of it almost like a clock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. A little too well-timed to have come from the sky. Grace Marks had said the morning clouds looked like angels hanging their laundry. And by then I was feeling a little like Grace Marks myself, because what woman on this good earth had ever gone madder? The rain was a little like they were marching. Carrying a coffin in a funeral parade. And I didn’t have the thought that it was my coffin until a dar
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Chapter 1 Part 3
December 2nd, 2012 Morning   When I wake, I’m not drowsy. My mind is humming with thoughts and voices. My heart prickles in my chest like a well-used pincushion. There’s a buzz running through me. I’m anxious. Roused. Restless. The sun warms me, I had forgotten to close the blind it would seem. When I roll to my side, the leg that had been bent at an angle purrs as feeling returns, it’s not a minute past six. The digital clock at my side ticks over as I watch it. Six-nought-one. I haven’t woken this early in a while. So, I find my feet. Seize the morning, if you will. Damon says it. Always awake at the crack of dawn. Bonkers, if you ask me. Positively bonkers. The night was torturous. Chloe had refused to compromise on ordering tofu in our Thai. Said she hated the taste, it fused with the sauce, she was so sure. There was no taste. Even she had said tofu was too bland to eat
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Chapter 2 Part 1
December 2nd, 2012 Morning   “Mother?” Her eyes are rather hard to read. They look dark. Or am I imagining it? Am I hoping the news I’ve found a partner — rather, I’ve had a partner the whole time — saddens her? Why would it? She had introduced me to her friends as her new mummy when she was a child. Now she has a real one. A tad late, sure. She’d never had a father. Never imagined she could need one. Perhaps said I was her mother because she didn’t know how to act around a father. The only boys she’s known she kissed in secret under the shaded slide and ran away squealing about it. If we were children, it would be different. If I had been a lifelong friend. If I had been her James. We would have fallen in love. She would have told me about her childhood. I suspect she’s told him. She hasn’t breathed a word of it to me. “Yeah.” I only know what the caseworker told me. Dad was MIA. M
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Chapter 2 Part 2
December 3rd, 2012 Morning   My alarm woke me at five-thirty sharp. I usually feel a great deal better than I do today. The night had been tedious. I had released myself into a tissue after seeing Sasha, and those rancid thoughts seemed to dull to quietness. Sleep hadn’t come quite so easily. I tossed and turned, feeling rather hot despite the weather. I read into the news in depth, fearing my dreams would be plagued with her. The Taliban had launched an attack on the NATO airstrip. There was a terrorist attack in Chibok. Israel Keyes died in custody. It had all the markings of making a particularly violent and disturbing dream — yet I dreamt of her. I was sat on the couch with the paper. She had walked up slowly, wearing absolutely nothing, though part of me is sure she had a ski mask… the grim news reading to blame, I suppose. She climbed on top; I could feel it so vividly. Reached into my trousers
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Chapter 2 Part 3
About Midnight   I’m doing the rounds again. I peer through the door left ajar. Quiet noises had tumbled from her bedroom. Sometimes she screams. Sometimes she sobs quietly. I brush her forehead with my thumb until she quiets, it doesn’t seem to wake her. More often now does she mumble quietly about numbers. One for, two for, three for… I’m not sure what. I’ve only ever caught seven for a witch, though it ought to have been misheard. I would never ask. She would be embarrassed to know I soothe her back to sleep. She’s too strong-willed. Fierce and quick-tempered. Quiet and reserved. I press through. She’s grunting. She rolls over. Is she awake? I hide behind the door. She’s still asleep. I slip through. “Damon…” She mumbles, so I’m not sure if that’s what she says. I hope it is, so that’s what I think it to be. I sit quietly by her side. Stare at the wild, tangled hair. I’m not sure how, but I’m running my fingers throu
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Chapter 2 Part 4
“Ah!” She’s looking quite chipper, a cardboard cup tray dangling from her fingertips in a way that makes me so sure she’s stabbed her nails into the bottom to hold it still. “I was hoping you lot would be up! Coffee?” She plops it down rather unceremoniously. I find myself looking closely as Damon lifts one with his name scrawled on the lid, but it doesn’t seem to have any puncture holes through the bottom. Strange, considering how perfectly she’d sat the thing on the tips of her fingers. I take one. No crows today. “What milk is it?” The thought hadn’t crossed my mind until Damon asked quietly. Now that I’ve already had a few mouthfuls and the aftertaste is rather strange, at that, I wonder if the crows have left us be not because of good fortunes but because they’re afraid of the smell after I’ve soiled my pants. “What do you mean what milk?” She’s staring up at Damon with a coy smile, slowly setting her own coffee down. “I mean what milk is in the
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Chapter 3 Part 1
December 6th, 2012 Morning   “How’s Bertrand?” Tami flicks her cigarette at me with a cruel, small smile. She’s about as fuckable as they get. Blonde bombshell. Though the type with a rather thick Yorkshire accent and smoker’s teeth. Dark brows. A deep tan. Bright blue eyes. That winning, albeit dull smile. A bog-standard cockthrob. “Bert.” I say, stiffly at that. “Like Bert is any better.” She struggles with the T’s. James buts in now, all dark hair and dazzling blue eyes. “’You reckon he’s off fucking Ernie right now?” They laugh. I laugh with them. I’ve got to. My pride is at stake. “Shut it, wanker, you wouldn’t know if you’re on foot or horseback.” James doesn’t take kindly to this. His charming bright smile falls. Suddenly, he’s glaring at me. He doesn’t mean it. He never does. “Maybe, maybe not,” Now, he stands. Takes a cigarette from Tami. Does that little walk
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Chapter 3 Part 2
“You’re looking a bit better.” He’s staring at me while I settle into my seat. Eyes so keen and dark and unreadable. So closed-off to the public. To everyone, really. I haven’t a clue what’s going on in there. He doesn’t mean that he likes the way I look. For some reason, I must remind myself that. I’ve got a bit of colour, mum would say. She would pinch my cheeks and smile at the pink. If she was here, she would compliment the freshly dyed hair. Tell her I looked like grandma. We would dance and sing together about superstitions and princesses. All would be right in the world. “Did you eat yesterday?” “No, but I wasn’t up and about much, either.” I stare into the empty glass of table water. My throat is feeling rather dry. Somehow, I don’t think water will help. “Last time you were having nightmares you weren’t eating. Or sleeping.” Why is he so closed off? He stares into my eyes as though he’s talking to a patient, rather cool and matter of fact.
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Chapter 3 Part 3
December 1st, 1999 Afternoon Damon   “Chloe?” The house is silent, bar the click of the front door closing. Awfully so. A draft comes through the living room, so brittle I swear it could knock me off my feet. An alarm clock is ringing. She’s slow to stop it, the sound lofting around with that cool breeze. Or maybe she’s not home. I shrug off my coat. Lay it across the back of the couch on my way to the window. The rattle of a door in its frame stops when the window slides shut — I hadn’t noticed it, either. Somehow, the house is more silent now. “Chloe!”   “Damon!” She pops around a corner, flaming hair twisted up at the crown, strands billowing around her face. She’s wearing an especially well-worn cardigan, the skin around her eyes dark and sunken. She hadn’t been sleeping. I can see that. She’s in the bed with me each night, breathing steadily, what does she do for those hours? Stare s
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