Closer by Maxine Linnell

hair back in a band so you can see her face. She’s lost some weight, but this is no time for telling her so. 
    â€œThey can’t make me say it all, can they Mum?” she says. 
    â€œI don’t think so. Maybe it’s best to think of ways of explaining without going into all the details.” Mum looks disgusted. 
    The doorbell rings and there’s two of them. She’s young and friendly, but he’s older and he’s wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase. He puts it on the kitchen table like he lives here and gets out a folder with ‘Philips’ on it. The folder already has lots of papers inside. 
    She does the talking, introduces herself as Sabina. 
    â€œThis is Mr. Duncan. Pete.” He doesn’t look like a Pete. “There’s always two of us on visits like this. Mr Philips isn’t here?” 
    â€œNo, he’s moved out for the moment. To some friends near here. He left the keys with us so he can’t get in.” 
    â€œHe’s never been violent? Except for the abuse, that is?” 
    Abuse. That’s what we’ve got. Like some illness. It feels sick, that’s for sure. I hope we get well soon, like Chloe says. 
    â€œHe’s admitted it, so we can take it as read that it happened. Unusual that. But I’ve come across it before.” 
    She means this happens to other people? 
    â€œI think he’s only just realising what he’s done himself,” Mum says. You can hear how angry she is. 
    â€œBut he’s an adult. He has to know what he’s doing,” I say. 
    â€œAdults aren’t always as straight-forward as we’d like them to be.” Sabina smiles at me. I’m not sure about that. She’s not going to treat me like a kid because of what’s happened. I don’t catch her eye. 
    â€œIt would be good to see you on your own for a while.” Sabina looks at her diary. “Melody, can we talk to you first? Then you, Hannah? And then George.” 
    â€œMy name’s Mel,” I say. She should have asked me my name, not looked at her diary. 
    â€œI’m sorry.” She looks like she might almost mean it. 
    I hate this. I hate them coming into my house and taking over, telling us what to do. I hate what’s happening and I want to turn the clock back and I want to be with Raj. 
    Hannah goes back up to her room. We’re all quiet as we hear her go upstairs and nobody looks at each other until the door closes and Sabina looks at Mum. 
    â€œWe’ll talk to Mel on her own, Mrs. Philips. If that’s okay Mel?” 
    â€œYeah.” 
    Mum gets up slowly and leaves the kitchen. She doesn’t look like she wants to go. 
    â€œI’ll be in the living room with George,” she says. 
    The door closes. I’m playing with a knife on the table. My head’s well down. 
    â€œMel, I know this is difficult.” 
    Do you? Do you know that, Miss Social Worker, Miss come into our house and wreck everything? Do you know that, Mr. Briefcase and folders with everyone’s lives inside on white pieces of paper? 
    This is crap. My life is crap. 
    â€œI’m here to help,” Sabina says. 
    How did I know that would come next? I’m here to help. I’m here to help you tear your life to pieces. I’m here to watch you squirm and tell me things you wouldn’t tell your best friend. I’m here to tell you what you can do, and I’m here to make you do it. 
    â€œI know.” Did I say that? Who was that mumbling, looking at the table? I can see all the marks that knives have made on this table ever since I was little; before then, when I was sitting in a high chair throwing my food on the floor. In fact, this table is probably