Chapter 10
Simon continued to pace his untidy bedroom. Throwing a quick glance at the small brass alarm clock on his bedside table, he saw it was a quarter past seven.
“Where are you, Uncle Joey?” he asked out loud as his pacing took him to his window. Looking down at the quiet street he began to despair.
* * * *
The day had started out shitty and hadn’t got any better. When Simon awoke that morning an all too familiar wetness greeted him. Lifting up his covers, the weak ammonia smell hit his nostrils. Holding back a sob, Simon rolled out of bed, took off his pyjamas and stripped the sodden sheets from the mattress. If he was lucky he could get them into the washing machine and start it up before his mother noticed. Alas, his luck didn't hold. Carole was sitting at the kitchen table s
