Part three:

Darcy tried to tell them what was going on, that the weekend visits were a bad idea, that they should not enforce them, but she had been labelled as just another problem child, of the many they catered for, and they would not listen.
Finally Darcy took the only action left to her. She ran away.

Sliding the window gently open, Darcy climbed out onto the roof. She leaned in and hoisted her bag over the sill, then slithered carefully down the corner ridge to where the apple tree leaned obligingly close to the guttering.  Dropping her bag into the soft grass, she lowered herself down and ducked into the shadows. The warden’s office window was just feet away and the light was on. She scrabbled along on all fours until she reached the gate and slipped through, pulling it quietly closed behind her.

Darcy made her way through the damp October streets. It was late and she had a long way to go. She kept to the shadows as much as possible. She didn’t want to be seen and returned to the home. Now that she had escaped, she needed to get to a place of safety.

Urged by daylight’s injustice

The little bird must now take flight

In velvet black of dark’s cool rift

She disappears into the night

A slight and fragile silhouette

This journey’s one she’ll not forget
 

Young traveller covered seven miles

Drizzle-soaked and chilled to skin

She made her way to a hippy house

Where friends were sure to let her in

They warmed her feet amid portrayal

And listened to her anguished tale

Once tucked up in a warm bed, Darcy could at last relax. She was safe for the moment. It was obvious that they could not hide her but they had promised to help her and that was enough.  She had ‘grown-ups’ on her side.