Little Alfie watched Lucy with a pang of envy. Lucy was being taken from the childrens home. Her new mum and dad were already signing the paperwork, and soon shed have a proper family. Lucy chattered away about all the things shed done with themthe zoo (which Alfie had never visited), the puppet theatre where shed seen a real-life witch, and the apricot jam with whole fruit still in it.
Alfie was five. For as long as he could remember, hed lived at the home. Kids came and went. When Tommy vanished one day, Alfie tugged at Mrs. Wilsons sleeve.
“Mrs. Wilson, wheres Tommy gone?”
“Hes gone home, love. To his family,” she replied.
“Whats a family?” Alfie pressed.
Mrs. Wilson sighed softly. “A familys where youre always wanted, no matter what.”
“Wheres mine, then?”
She just looked at him, sad and quiet, and didnt answer.
After that, Alfie stopped asking. He figured a family must be something rare and precious.
When Lucy disappeared for two days and came back in a frilly dress, her hair neat, clutching a brand-new doll, Alfie burst into tears. No one had ever wanted *him*.
Just then, Mrs. Wilson bustled in with a jumper and trousers.
“Alfie, love, get changed. Youve got visitors coming.”
“Me?” Alfie blinked. “Who?”
“They want to meet you.”
Alfie dressed, perched on the bench, and waited. Mrs. Wilson took his hand and led him to the visitors room, where a tall, bearded bloke and a petite, pretty woman sat. The woman smelled like roses, Alfie decided. She had huge eyes and lashes that could sweep floors.
“Hello,” she said warmly. “Im Emily. And you?”
“Alfie,” he mumbled. “Who are you?”
“Wed love to be your friends,” Emily said. “Andwell, we need your help.”
“What help?” Alfie eyed the man warily.
The chap crouched down. “Im James. We heard youre brilliant at drawing. Fancy sketching us a robot?”
Alfie puffed up. “What sort? I can do loads.”
James fetched a bag, pulled out a sketchbook, pencils, andAlfies breath hitcheda *massive* Optimus Prime, gleaming in the sunlight.
“Wow!” Alfie gasped. “Hes the leader of the Autobots!”
“You like him?” James grinned.
“*YES.*”
“Take him, draw us something, and well chat, yeah?”
An hour later, Alfie had told them everythinghis favourite toys, his chilly shoes, even his creaky bed. Emily held his hand the whole time; James ruffled his hair.
Mrs. Wilson reappeared. “Times up, Alfie. Supper.”
James shook his hand. “Well be back next week. Think you can finish the drawing?”
“You *promise* youll come?”
“Cross my heart,” Emily said, hugging him so tight his ribs squeaked. Her eyes shone oddly.
“Whyre you crying?”
“Just dust, sweetheart.”
At dinner, Alfie bolted his food and sprinted to his room to admire the robot. Hed just started sketching when the older boys barged in.
“Blimey!” sneered Liam. “Gimme that!” He snatched the toy, tossing it high.
“Stop!” Alfie lunged. “Its not even mine!”
“Nothing heres *yours*,” Liam laughed, yanking it back.
A sickening *crack*and Alfie was left clutching a severed leg. He bawled, swung at Liam, and got a bloody nose for his trouble. Mrs. Wilson dabbed his face with a damp cloth.
“Alfie, toys are shared. Now lookits ruined.”
“It wasnt *mine*!” Alfie hiccuped. “They *lent* it!”
She sighed. “Just draw.”
Somehow, he propped the broken bot against a wall, balancing its leg with a box. By bedtime, hed filled a page. By weeks end, the whole sketchbook was robots.
“Has it been a week yet?” Alfie asked Mrs. Wilson. “When are Emily and James coming?”
Her face fell. “Alfie love, theyre not.”
He cried himself to sleep, certain it was his faultMrs. Wilson mustve told them about the robot.
Next morning, she burst in, grinning. “Get dressed! Visitors!”
Alfie opened the doorand there they were.
“Hello, trouble,” Emily said. “Fancy the zoo?”
Alfie burst into tears. “Wait!” He fetched the sketchbook and broken toy. “Im sorryLiam and mewe”
James *laughed*. “Alfie, thats *yours*. We *gave* it to you.”
Sniffling, Alfie handed over the sketches.
“Perfect!” James beamed. “Exactly what we wanted. And dont fretIll fix Optimus.”
At the zoo, Alfie gawped at monkeys swinging wildly, stuffing their faces with bananas.
Later, Emily squeezed his hand. “Want to see our house?”
Their flat had space-themed wallpaper, a race-car bed, and shelves of toys.
“Who lives here?” Alfie whispered.
James knelt, taking his hands. “Alfie wed love it if *you* did. This is your room. Your toys. Your bed. Stay forever?”
“Forever?” Alfies voice wobbled. “You mean a *family*?”
Emily nodded. “Our family.”
“But *why*? I broke Optimus, and”
“Alfie,” she whispered, “youre *ours*.”
He cried, nodding furiously. He loved them. Loved his room. Never wanted to leave.
James grinned. “Is that a yes?”
“Ill be *good*,” Alfie vowed.
They scooped him up, smothering him in kisses, and for the first time, Alfie knewhe belonged.
