A Place Called Perfect by Helena Duggan

name.”
    “Em…yes.”
    Images of her parents flooded her mind. Her throat tightened.
    “You know your father is looking for you,” the lady said mysteriously.
    “Have you seen him?”
    Violet sat forward.
    “No I’m afraid not Violet but I know what it is like to lose your children and he will not rest until he finds you.”
    “He didn’t lose me. I lost him.”
    “For a parent it’s the same thing Violet. He’ll find you.”
    “Did you find yours?” she asked, then wished she hadn’t.
    “No,” the lady replied.
    Silence flooded the room once more.
    “I gave up my family a long time ago Violet but I will always love them. I know when it is my time I will see them again.”
    “Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy.”
    “It’s okay,” the woman smiled, “now don’t you want to free your friend?  The Watchers will be back soon.”
    Violet nodded.
    “Well then,” the woman said.
    Walking to the cabinet she pulled a knife from the depths of a drawer.
    “Take this, it should cut through the collar.”
    “Will you come with us?”
    “No Violet, but I wish you the best of luck.”
    “Are you a prisoner?”
    “Of sorts.”
    “But you’re not chained?”
    “Not physically Violet but the world has changed. There is nothing out there for me now. I am happy here.”
    “But it’s just a room?”
    “It’s my room Violet,” the woman replied abruptly.
    “I’m sorry, my Dad would kill me for asking so many questions,” Violet said, as she took the knife from the lady and walked to the door, “Thank you.”
    “Violet, I try not to spend too much time at my window but when I do I notice there is always a lot of activity in that house,” she said, pointing across the park, “I think perhaps your father might be there.”
    “Thank you,” Violet said, her body suddenly alive again.
    The lady nodded and Violet slipped out the door and back across the hall.

CHAPTER 20
    Wickham Terrace
     
    Boy was still unconscious when Violet began to saw through the thick leather. Her progress was slow and he was coming round as she cut.
    “Ssh,” she whispered, when he started to groan, “It’s me. Violet. I’m going to free you. You have to be quiet. There’s Watchers downstairs.”
    Boy slowly opened his eyes and grimaced.
    “Do you have to be so rough?” he coughed.
    “Do you have to be so ungrateful?”
    Chairs scraped across the floor downstairs and Violet increased her pace. Eventually the leather snapped. She helped Boy from the floor. He was a little groggy and wobbled to his feet. They stopped at the corner of the door. Violet checked the hallway.
    “Thank you,” she whispered across the hall, as they left the room.
    “For what?”
    “Not you Boy,” she replied as they slipped quietly along the dark corridor.
    The plastic sheeting blustered in the wind masking any noise as the pair climbed through onto the ledge and down the rickety ladder. Once back on solid ground, Violet pulled Boy round the side of the house and they slid onto their honkers by the pebble dashed wall. They sat in silence catching their breath.
    “What happened?” Boy finally whispered.
    “George Archer caught you. I saw him but there was nothing I could do. I thought maybe if he caught you he might lead me to Dad.”
    “So you let him!?”
    “Yeah but I rescued you didn’t I?” Violet snapped, “and anyway I think my plan might have worked.”
    “Did you find your Dad?”
    “No but I met this woman…”
    Violet filled Boy in on all that happened while he slept. When he was up to speed, they decided to cross the estate and have a look at the house the woman had pointed to.
    “I have a feeling about it,” Violet said, persuading her friend.
    Taking care not to be seen the pair ran past the park and crouched down behind the half built wall that surrounded the house. Then, as they had done before, crawled up the clay garden coming to a rest under the main windowsill.
    “You have a look,” Violet said,