A Dark Secret: Part 2 of 3. Casey Watson

      

Copyright

      This book is a work of non-fiction based on the author’s experiences. In order to protect privacy, names, identifying characteristics, dialogue and details have been changed or reconstructed.

      HarperElement

      An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

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      London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      First published by HarperElement 2019

      FIRST EDITION

      © Casey Watson 2019

      A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

      Cover image © Clive Nolan/Trigger Image (posed by model)

      Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2019

      Casey Watson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

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      Source ISBN: 9780008298616

      Ebook Edition © May 2019 ISBN: 9780008298630

      Version: 2019-03-28

      Contents

      1  Cover

      2  Title Page

      3  Copyright

      4  Contents

      5  Chapter 9

      6 Chapter 10

      7 Chapter 11

      8 Chapter 12

      9 Chapter 13

      10 Chapter 14

      11 Chapter 15

      12  Chapter 16

      13  Chapter 17

      14  Moving Memoirs eNewsletter

      15  About the Publisher

      LandmarksCoverFrontmatter

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Chapter 9

      One of the many things I struggled to figure out about Sam was his ability to bounce back from his meltdowns. I mean, really bounce back, no matter what had happened. He could have a full-on violent episode, screaming like a banshee, and an hour later could be the sweetest kid ever. It happened every single time, which was obviously a plus, but could make it extremely difficult to explain to someone who hadn’t witnessed it just how bad things could get. ‘Think Jekyll and Hyde’ didn’t really cover it.

      I knew, because I’d been on the other end of this. I’d thought the exact same thing myself when I’d first met Sam, hadn’t I? I’d looked at the sweet kid who’d turned up on my doorstep, and had immediately thought (and against my better instincts, I’ll admit) that Kelly might have been just a tad melodramatic. When he wasn’t kicking off, Sam really was that endearing.

I was thinking exactly this on Monday morning when, with Colin Sampson’s visit imminent, Sam was busy being the proverbial little angel. And being angelic genuinely – this wasn’t some savvy youngster who’d spent a long time in the system. Sam’s sweetness and lightness was from the heart.

      ‘Sampson will be really pleased with me,’ he declared, as we added another silver star to the impressive rows of them on the ‘jobs’ list on his chart. ‘He’ll say I’m a good boy, won’t he, Casey?’

      ‘It’s Colin, love,’ I corrected. ‘Sampson is his last name. But yes, I’m quite sure he’ll think you’re a good boy, because that’s exactly what you are.’

      Sam grinned like the Cheshire cat. ‘Oh, yes,’ he said. ‘I remember. But I like Sampson better than Colin because it’s got my name in it, hasn’t it? And I bet he’ll let me call him that anyway, because Sampson was a big and strong man