chapter 1

Chapter 1

Murder. Before, what had seemed so pleasant, so homely, was tainted
with invisible blood, invisible bodies and the stench of death. The
outdated, heavily patterned walls seemed to glisten with a sickening
red-brown glare, and the room seemed in conspiracy, with the curtains
that had been closed firmly, the floor which they had stood on in their
final moments. And in the middle of them all was the murderer, their
face a welcoming smile which creased the eyes and produced a small
dimple in the middle of their cheek. The same eyes, that once so cold,
had issued murder?after murder?after murder.
*
I think after I've hoovered I'll sit down for a bit, I'll see if the
weathers any good tomorrow and if it is I'll take the children out
somewhere, the beach would be good we haven't been on a family day out
in ages, mind you the oldest probably wouldn't want to come, young
James would though, he'd love it, and Molly perhaps too, maybe they
could bring their friends and they could go and look in rock pools or
something I know I used to love doing that, Its half past three, James
should have been home by now, he's always late, he's got so many
friends he doesn't have time for them all, I'm so proud that he's so
popular, well I won't get worried just yet he's been late before,
probably just lost track of time, engrossed in some computer game or at
the park playing, Molly's in though, and she's doing something in her
room, she should really be more like James, she should have friends
round more often, what about that Sarah, she used to get on so well
with her, I really am worried about James maybe I should ring round
some of his friends houses he said he wasn't going to be out very long
he hasn't been back for lunch or anything, well, I'll give it 10 more
minutes?
*
Graham had really enjoyed Friday. He'd been out at the parks doing boys
stuff. It made a change, with Hannah not being around. His twin sister
really annoyed him sometimes, they always had to do what she wanted,
which usually involved girly things, like stupid make-believe games or
handstands or even worse, daisy chains. He was glad she'd stayed over
at Hattie's Thursday night because before she got back he had gone out
to the park and had played football and rounders all day, with all the
boys. No girls were allowed, not that they wanted to play anyway, it
was a dangerous game, football. And he had scored a hat-trick in one
game and everyone cheered really loudly. It made him smile to himself
even then, just thinking about his satisfying victory. One day, he
reckoned, he could probably be a professional footballer. Not like that
Luke. Luke Fryer was far too big for his boots, in Graham's opinion,
always bragging about something or other that he'd bought, or been
given, or some amazing place he'd been or something incredible that
he'd done. He really thought he was it. And when Graham went down from
a particularly dirty tackle?"He's faking it! Timewaster! Just carry on
guys, ignore him!" But it had really hurt, and already he could see a
big lump emerging on the side of his leg, with all the skin red, like a
huge mosquito bite. His team had beaten Luke's though, 4-2, and it
wasn't half funny when he stormed off in a huge temper, shouting all
sorts about them being cheats and that if it had been a fair match they
would have lost hands down. They all thought he'd be back out when he'd
calmed down, and would join in seamlessly with the rounders game,
batting first and not mentioning the tantrum he'd thrown. Luke was like
that, calm one minute, but would go off like a bomb. But he hadn't come
back, he must have been sulking in his room for the rest of the day,
because no-one had seen him since he'd stormed off.
*
I've just woken up suddenly, it must be about 3 AM, because it's really
dark. I'm at Hattie's house and we're sleeping in her living room on
the sofas. Shes fast asleep, and she's snoring a bit. I'm a bit scared
actually, because I can't really see properly, I can only make out dark
shapes, which obviously are just furniture, but it still scares me a
bit, even though I'm getting quite old now. I might turn a light on in
a bit, but if it wakes Hatty up, she might get a bit moody - I've been
around before when she's been woken up, and she wasn't the happiest of
people. I feel really wide awake now, like I'm ready to get up and do
stuff. Today, or should I say yesterday, we were playing with that
really badly behaved girl, Sarah Gorse. We saw her standing by herself
at the swings and you'll never believe it she had a fag in her hand and
she was smoking it! I don't know where she got it from, probably her
older sister's or something. Anyway, we were on the roundabout and she
just came up to us, just walked right up to us and said hi. I didn't
know what to do, tell her to go away or what, but Hattie said 'hi'
back, just straight away, and really friendly like, too. So then she
said "Do youse want a toke?" and held up the fag like she was dead
good, and I just went "No, its wrong to smoke, and my mum doesn't like
it." And she gave me a look, like I was a baby or really stupid, just
because I don't do what she wants. So I just gave her a look back, even
though she's dead hard, and she never did anything about it, just
started talking to Hattie like, pretty much ignored me. Hattie really
seemed to like her because she was like acting like she was trying to
think the same way what Sarah does, like trying to please her. I got
really angry and felt dead left out, just sitting there swinging my
feet and looking at the ground, and I said "You wanna go now H?" But
she just said something back dead impatiently, and I got really angry
then so I got up off the roundabout and went to sit on the swings by
myself, and Hattie, right, she didn't even follow me or nothing, she
stayed talking to this girl, they're probably gonna be best friends or
something. And when I was sitting on me bill, that old lady, Ingrid,
walked past, and she like looked at me smiling, so I smiled back 'cos I
quite like her, shes sound, she gave me a toffee from her little paper
bag and told me to cheer up. Sarah like saw her with her two piggy
little eyes and came right up to her and started talking, 'cos she
always wants to know people better than you, and be like dead popular.
So then right, she went off with Ingrid, probably so that she could get
more sweets off her, and Hattie said "Right, let's go back then seeing
as you hate the park so much." Dead snotty, you know? But after a bit
she got ok with me again, and it was like back to normal. I hope we
never see cow face Sarah again. I hope she dies.
*
It was early Saturday morning, and the sun shone weakly onto the dew
jewelled grass, the trees danced gently in the slight wind, and no
noise penetrated the quiet spell of the town, the park, the streets. It
was 12 hours since Mrs Young had called the police. She hadn't slept
all night, and her eyes were swollen, red softly covered around her lid
and socket, and then a blood red patterned the whites of her eyes. She
had been crying for hours. She was wearing the clothes she'd had on the
previous day, having not got into her pjama's, hopeful all night of the
phone call that would bring a gasp of relief to her, everything would
be back to normal, and they'd go to the beach. They hadn't found James
though. She'd called round all his friends, they hadn't seen him at all
that day, he'd said he was going to meet them at one of their houses,
but he hadn't turned up, they'd just assumed he'd changed his mind. So
he'd left the house at 10 AM, and no-one had seen him since. That was
21 hours ago. At 10 AM this morning, he was going to be a missing
person, and Mrs Young's worst nightmare would become reality?her child
was missing?her child was missing and she didn't know what had happened
to him, where he was, whether he was?(dead) alive, he could even have
(been murdered) run away, he could be just (in the lake) hiding
somewhere. But still, she couldn't picture herself as a parent on the
news, begging anyone with information to come forward, seeing Jame's
little cherub face in shop windows 'Missing - James Young, aged 8?'
That could never happen to the Youngs, they were normal, things like
this, they never came close to home...The search would start today, all
the neighbours would be in on it. They were going to go over all of his
usual haunts, everywhere that he could be, could have gone. But she'd
done all of this last night, had found nothing. He wasn't stupid, he
wouldn't just go off with a stranger, she'd taught him all of this, she
knew he was a clever kid. When was the last time she'd done something
really nice for him, she wondered?and she sat there, in his room, going
over and over the times she'd shouted, the times she'd smacked him and
sent him to bed, taken his toys off him when he was naughty?
*
"Did you hear about that James kid down the road, bloody awful, some of
the things that happen nowadays, there's sick wierdo's everywhere, and
you can't trust any-one, it's a crying shame when you can't let your
kid out to play without being worried that they'll get snatched.
Course, I don't actually know if he's been snatched, but its obvious
isn't it?kid goes out, doesn't come back, nowhere to be found, that'll
be what's happened. I feel so sorry for his Mum, what she must be going
through?yeah?oh yeah I know, awful?exactly, I don't blame you, I've got
half a mind to keep my Luke in, though he's a bit older than that James
lad, I wouldn't be very happy letting him out on the streets after
what's happened?he's not in at the moment actually, he's staying the
night at Joe's?one of the lads from football?yeah, he went out
yesterday around lunch to play football in the park and he was going to
go to Joe's after?yeah, homework forgotten no doubt, shoved in the
bottom of his bag, yeah?yeah?well he's no geek, my lad, prefers being
out doing sports or something?professional? Well I don't know about
that, it'd be nice though haha yeah, could buy me a nice mansion!
Hahaha, well I'm going to have to let you go now, the potatoes are on,
well, pop in sometime, mmhmm?ok bye, yeah, bye!"
*
The old man sat motionless on the worn old chair, head tilted back,
chest heaving slowly up and down. His lips blew softly out every few
seconds as breath escaped his tired old lungs. His few fine tufts of
hair stood on end, wispy and beaten. His face was a mysterious map of
furrows and wrinkles, resembling melted wax, as if his face had melted
with age. He was Sarah's Grandad, her only living relative. A sudden
bang shook him from his nostalgic dreams, causing him to move quickly
in shock, his eyes wide and blinking. A cannon? Fleeting thoughts of
war in the navy confused and troubled him until he regained control of
his senses. A shelf or pot must have fallen from its hangings in the
kitchen. He stood up shakily, reaching for his stick, and moved stiffly
towards the door which led to the kitchen. He could see nothing out of
place, everything was as it had seemed before he had slept. Unwashed
plates and cups stood precariously next to the sink, various kitchen
implements littered the shelving units, along with assorted ornaments
and junk. What was the noise then? Not a suspicious person by nature,
Dennis turned back towards the living room, only to stop, and cock his
head like a spaniel when he heard another crash - this time coming from
somewhere upstairs. He didn't like to travel up the stairs too often,
once he was up or down, he'd stay there for as long as possible, but
something about this noise made Dennis feel uneasy. Every house makes
noises, but he could tell the difference between ordinary house noises,
and noises when something was not just the forces of nature. A
terrifying thought entered his head. Some-ones in my house. As if it
would be possible for him to scare them away, or even defend himself,
Dennis started to heave himself purposefully towards the bottom of the
stairs. Crash. There it went again. It sounded like it was coming from
his room. His legs started to shake. Who was up there and what were
they doing? His courage failed, and instead he picked up the phone from
the cabinet?999?it started to ring?more noises, indistinguishable?he
chose the police option?"There's someone in my house! There's someone
in here with me! I'm alone, and I'm not in my best health! Please
help!" He felt a helplessness wash over him, and though he had not
cried in years, he experienced the unusual feeling of his eyes welling
up as he heard a footstep. A footstep at the top of the stairs,
followed by another - they were coming down the stairs, and they'd have
him before the police even got close. The stairs were out of view to
him at this point, but he doubted he could have turned round even if
they were. He felt he should move, run away, but he couldn't, something
kept him rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but feel his heart
beat faster and his breath catch in his throat. Footstep, footstep,
footstep. Very quickly, one after the other - then it stopped. He
didn't breathe for a long time, and not even his fingers twitched until
he heard the saviour of the sound of wheels outside the house, and a
ring at the doorbell. He was safe.
*
Dear Diary,
I met up with Sarah today, but I didn't invite Hannah out. She doesn't
like Sarah, I can tell. And she doesn't like me being friends with
Sarah either. She's so possessive. Anyway, I don't think I should be
made to feel guilty by having more than one friend. We don't have to
live in each others pockets, me and Hannah. I think Sarah's dead nice,
even if Hannah doesn't - ok, she smokes, and she can be like quite
naughty in school and stuff, but she's nice to me, and I'm not bothered
about anything else. She's a good friend, or she will be, when we get
to know each other a bit better. So we went out to the shops, I've
hardly ever gone before, except with my Mum when she takes me. She made
me try on some really cool outfits, which I normally wouldn't dare to
look at?there was a really nice little skirt, and I was tempted to ask
mum if I could buy it, but I knew she'd never let me, would say it was
too short, or common. Sarah made some comment about a five finger
discount, but I changed the subject as quickly as possible - I'm not a
thief. Then as we were walking back down the road, me feeling really
grown up in Sarah's necklace she was letting me wear for a bit, her
smoking a fag, we saw that old woman, she's called Ingrid - always
giving sweets to us and stuff. Well, I think Sarah knows her quite
well, because she lives with her Grandad, she gets on with old people
well. Ingrid gave me a packet of smarties, and one to Sarah too, then
we helped her carry her shopping bags back to her house. She's not
really weak though, like most old people, she's dead capable, like
she's 50, not around 70. She said that I was a lovely girl! Well, I had
to go soon after that, and Sarah was going to go home too, so we've
arranged to meet tomorrow. I can't wait! But I don't think I'll tell
Hannah, she'd kill me! Love Hattie xoxox
*
I really don't like being new in the town well not new really any more
but I still feel new like an outsider or something I still haven't made
any proper friends yet and at school I feel stupid eating lunch by
myself its really sad and even Luke's fitted in it's a shame when your
little brother is more popular than you I really just want to go
shopping with my mates back home HOME not here like before we moved
yeah it was so much better then I really do want to go back and
speaking of Luke I haven't seen him in a while he's probably at his
mates house he's always at mates houses unlike me not usually away for
that long though I probably just miss him because he's the only person
I can talk to around here a 10 year old boy yippee Mum's at work she's
obsessed with work at the office on a Sunday of all days I think I'll
phone Gem and see what I'm missing in the land of the normal or maybe
I'll just go to bed because there's nothing better to do today.
*
Mr Fielding suspected the worst for poor little James - it usually was
the worst outcome with missing children. If he had been gone by his own
free will, there was a good chance that he would have returned home or
made his presence known by now, and Mrs Young was certain that her son
wouldn't have run away, he was a contented boy, who had never shown any
signs of wanting to leave; he hadn't packed a bag or taken anything
with him. Unfortunately, Mr Fielding was positive of abduction. A
thorough search had been made all across the area where James could
have been, with many well meaning and concerned neighbours and friends
helping, and there was still no sign of James. All of his playmates had
been quizzed about his whereabouts, but it seemed the last person to
see him on that day was his Mother. He had just left the house
and?disappeared. As a Father of a daughter not much older than James
himself, Fielding could imagine how distraught Jame's Mother must be,
and prayed that he would never have to go through this with Hattie -
the tension and knowing what might have happened was enough to drive
someone mad with grief and false hope. As a police officer, he then
issued cctv footage from shops around the town to see if he had been
captured on film, but upon scrutinising all footage closely, he had
concluded that there was no evidence that little James had been in town
at all. It was a mystery, and sooner or later, Fielding wanted to go
through the lake in the park - which would no doubt distress Mrs Young
- the first sign that the police suspected that James was dead. Which
he most likely was.
*
A little wooden box sat on the dresser. It looked like a small
jewellery box. The wood was varnished and shiny, and had intricate,
delicate carvings scattered across the exterior. It held pride of
place, and nothing else, except for a modest lamp sat on the dresser.
It was an important box. Inside?a small chunk of metal (that was a stud
off Luke's football boot)?a pendant on a chain (that was Sarah's
necklace)?and a tiny baby tooth (that was James' wobbly one). These
treasures all sat together, closed inside this fabulous box, enveloped
in darkness.
*
"Hiya Hattie!"
"Is that Hannah?"
"Yeah.."
"Oh. Hi."
"Well don't sound so happy to hear from me. I haven't spoke to you in
ages."
"It's only been a few days."
"Yeah, but we usually spend every day together like?we're still best
mates aren't we?"
"Of course. "
"So, do you want to do something today then? Come to my house or I come
to yours?"
"Can't. I'm er, well, I'm meeting Sarah."
"The cow?"
"Shut up Hannah, you don't even know her. She's my mate."
"Well, what time are you meeting her? We could like do something
quickly before you go out with her?"
"Sorry. She was supposed to be here like an hour ago actually, so I'll
probably call you later."
"Right."
"Bye."
"See ya."
*
Luke really took that game badly there's no need for him to be so moody
about one match it was a fair game anyway he should just get over it
it's not like him to spend so long away from the park anyway there not
many days left in half term and he's just wasting them by staying in
(well in mate good bat come on it's a rounder yeah) calling me a
timewaster and a cheat he's the cheat I could beat him hands down
there's Hannah walking the dog over there she's by herself I wonder
where Hattie is they're always together Hannah's seemed really down the
past few days oh she's started talking to that weird old lady she
hasn't been pestering me as much to play with her that's a good thing I
hope she keeps that up if I'm honest I miss the competition when Luke's
not here it's quite good having an enemy it makes you want to win more
I'll ask someone whose mates with him to see where he is not that I
like him I don't like him I just like winning against him I wonder
what's for tea chips I hope not shepherds pie again its disgusting (he
was in he was definitely in aw yeah right its our point) hey maybe
Luke's gone back to where-ever it was that he used to live maybe he
didn't like it round here maybe?
*
Sarah's Grandad hadn't noticed that she hadn't come in last night. He
didn't notice that she hadn't come in the next day. He did notice that
all the china women ornaments had been removed from their place on the
shelf in the living room. They were all lined up in a row on the
kitchen floor. How did that happen? Why would they be there? How could
they be there? He knew who it was, it was the same person that was in
his house yesterday. The faceless bodiless creature that lurked in
rooms near to him. After the policeman had checked the house yesterday
and given the all clear, Grandad knew that they'd think he was some
eccentric old man who was starting to go a bit funny. He knew
otherwise. He knew what he heard, and was petrified that he'd hear it
again. Some-one had been there, some-one was now messing with him,
putting his ornaments on the floor. It made him angry, but more than
anything he felt a cold hard fear - who would be twisted enough to toy
with some-one like this? And how far were they prepared to go before
they got bored of their game?
*
The teacher was talking about exams at the front of the room, but Molly
of course was not listening. Her Mum had thought it best that she come
into school, try to take her mind off things, but the droning, boring
voice of the teacher just made her eyes glaze over and her mind was
focused on her little brother James. All the teachers knew what had
happened, so she could get away with paying as little interest as she
wanted, but none of the pupils knew that her little brother was
possibly dead. She could be dead for all they cared anyway, she didn't
have friends. She'd only ever had one proper friend really, Sarah
Gorse, when they were both little. But they were such opposites that
they inevitably drifted apart, Molly becoming a wispy ghost and Sarah a
complete rebel. They didn't even make eye contact when passing in the
street any more. All around her, people were whispering, doodling and
giggling, and somewhere, her brother was suffering. Everything now
seemed so superficial and useless, how could everything still be going
on as usual while a little boy was?was what? Was where?
*
Luke? No. For a minute, Mrs Fryer had imagined that the small figure at
the end of the road was her son. Of course it wasn't. It seemed so long
ago that she was talking on the phone about James Young, grateful that
she still had her son. Her son wasn't safe even then, as she had since
discovered that he had stormed home from the match, not returning home
though, but disappearing. His friends had thought he was at home, she
had thought he was with his friends?wasting time before the hunt for
him began. It was exactly the same as the other little boy?the two
cases had been linked, and the police were treating it as abduction.
The whole town knew about it, and Mrs Fryer disliked very much the
attention she got wherever she went, a sort of sick fascination. Still
it had not hit her, she kept telling herself he'd be back, he'd gone
somewhere and just got lost, tried to get a train or something, and
wound up in the wrong place?it didn't seem possible that Luke, some-one
with so much life, could suddenly be devoid of any, be lying still, a
shell, empty. Several times she had considered picking up the phone to
ring Mrs Young and Mr Young, to do what, she didn't know, to give them
her condolences, to let them know the was going through the same thing.
She hadn't done it. She had stayed in, alone except her daughter, and
police officers, inspectors and detectives. Her daughter, Dana, was
inconsolable, as was she. Dana had been close to Luke, and they had
become closer and friendlier when they moved to the neighbourhood, each
other's only friends. Luke had quickly made friends, however, forever
out at mate's houses, whereas Dana had tended to stay in more, but
still getting on ok with people at school. She had counted on her
brother as someone to talk to, a proper friend. And now, the lively,
amazing boy that had filled their lives so much with his laughter, his
essence, his being - that person had been taken away, and it was as if
nothing could ever work properly again. Her heart could never feel
anything again but a wrenching, terrible pain. Her mind could never
think again, think happy thoughts, think any thoughts. She could think
of nothing, she could any be in constant grief, so incomprehensibly gut
wrenching it was like death.
*
Dear Diary,
I'm crying as I write this, and it's because something really bad has
happened. I think the same thing that happened to those two boys has
happened to Sarah. I heard that two boys, one only 8, one my age, had
gone missing, because my Dad's in the police and he's working on
finding them. He didn't tell me anything about it, except to be very
careful wherever I went, and that him and Mum would be keeping my
comings and goings closely monitored. But I heard him talking to Mum
about it, and he thinks that they've been taken by a bad man or woman,
and killed. And the killer hasn't been caught, and now, now I think
they've taken Sarah. You see, I went to her house today, because she
hadn't turned up at my house when she was supposed to. And I had felt
angry at her, thought really bad things about her, and when Hannah
phoned me, I said things about her to Hannah, and I regret it all so
much. Well I went round, intending to have a bit of a go at her, and
her mad old Grandad who she lives with came to the door. I asked him
where Sarah was, and he seemed very confused and alarmed. I think he'd
forgotten about her for a bit, as she's not the most obedient of
Grandaughters, doesn't always tend to tell him if she's going
somewhere, or she can get into a mood and just do what she wants. He
seemed scared, like he couldn't believe he'd forgot about her, and it
must've been a few days. He didn't seem to know about the other two
boys, and I didn't tell him. I haven't told anyone, but when my Dad
comes in from work, I'm definitely going to tell him, and I hope I'm
proved wrong, I really do, I hope Sarah couldn't be bothered to come
and see me, and has just been hanging round with other people,
forgetting about whether her Grandad would worry. But, obviously, that
isn't what happened, is it? Because she's been taken by a bad man, and
she won't be back. Hattie.
*
It may already be known to some members of the town that 3 children
have recently been reported missing. These disappearances were all
within 3 days of each other, and the children have still not been
found, leading the police to believe that these children have been
abducted. We believe it would be wise to keep your children in at all
times for their own safety. Encourage them to play in large groups and
not to stray from these groups. This is an extremely serious matter
which is not to be taken lightly, and it is advised that parents should
take precautions when their children are unsupervised.
NettleGrange Police Department.
*
It was the day of the plea for anyone who had any information to please
come forward. The three families of the children would be united in
standing upon the platform and appealing to the public. Mr and Mrs
Young, Molly, Sarah's Grandad, Mrs Fryer and Dana. When the time came
for them to step onto the platform, all meeting each other in the flesh
for the first time ever, they made eye contact and saw the grief they
felt reflected completely in each others eyes, so totally that they
embraced like sisters and brothers before contemplating speech. As the
Youngs stood in front of the microphones and the cameras, their eyes
overflowed and the contents flowed freely down their pale faces. Mrs
Young, short and plump, with her black hair tied back into a hasty
ponytail, and a stress rash scattered about her face, was a picture of
distress, which would appear in the tabloids the next day. Sarah's
Grandad, in a clumsily ironed suit, looked lost and confused as he
stood blinking at the flashes and bony hands shaking as they moved. Mrs
Fryer and Dana had both donned hats for the occasion, choosing to pull
them firmly down, as if to cover their eyes which underneath were
swollen like great bee stings - and their tears did sting their eyes.
They were all so helpless at the fate of destiny, unfortunately, a
destiny which had already been sealed for the children. It hadn't been
long since their lives had been shattered, but already the false hope
that had once got them through each day was fading, a mere glimmer in
their deep, miserable darkness. Their waiting, however, was soon to be
over.
*
Three picture frames sat neatly above the pretty little window.
Sometimes, they liked to sit at this window and just stare out at the
pleasant pastures that stretched out for a while. They looked like a
patchwork quilt, sowed with the leafy green hedges, and spread all over
the ground, with wrinkles and lumps. The colours varied from rich
greens to faded and bright yellows, and invoked such happiness to them
that they couldn't help but be memorized by the miles of duvet that
they so wished they could be wrapped up in and slumber soundly in
forever - away from all the evil people. Being a murderer wasn't evil,
they were simply fulfilling their desires and ridding the world of the
evil, the cruel, the scum. That was those children, those demonseeds.
They littered their life, like finding spoiled fruit in a barrel of
apples. They despised children. To them, there was nothing worse than a
child in their town, a chid spitting, laughing, cycling, skateboarding,
running, littering, swearing?they shuddered inwardly at the ghastly
thought. So then, as a warning, they had acted out what they had
dreamed of, and killed them. What they did after to the corpses, that
didn't repulse them, it was enjoyable. When they had taken as much as
they would need for a while, they disposed of the bodies, and had
beautiful meals for the rest of the month.
*
It had been too long to keep up hope of return, and a special service
was held for the three. Hattie and Hannah were two blonde heads amongst
the villagers that urned up, and they held hands throughout the various
speeches and songs, comforting one other and letting go of the stifled
despair. They were best friends, and had grown up a lot through the
distress of the murders. They felt older than their 11 years, and were
grateful that they hadn't come to the same end as poor Sarah, looking
forward to the rest of their lives that yawned ahead of them, a million
events waiting to happen. They were starting high school in September,
the same school as each other, and were certain they'd be as close as
if they were almost the same person forever. It was while they were
walking back towards Hattie's house, arm in arm, huddled against the
nipping wind, that they saw old Ingrid, wrapped in a winter coat, and
bent hunchbacked to protect herself from freezing.
"Ingrid!" Hattie shouted, and the old lady turned and gave them a sweet
little smile.
"Hello sweethearts! Cold? Come to mine now and I'll make us all a cup
of tea, its not far away!" She was such a friendly old lady, not like
some of the fogies round Nettlegrange. They caught up with her, and
made polite conversation about school and their families. Ingrid let
them in to her little flat which she tried so hard to keep clean and
tidy, although it was falling to pieces a bit. They settled at the
kitchen table on mismatched rickety chairs while the old woman
clattered about preparing cups of tea and snacks. Hannah glanced round
the room at the little personal touches Ingrid had added, such as some
plastic flowers in a glass vase, little china pigs standing in a line,
and two goldfish swimming serenely round a small bowl. They were called
Bill and Ben.
"Why don't you go into the living room and put on the telly, dears?"
Ingrid suggested, and they left her in the kitchen, without feeling
guilty, as she had never looked so happy, must have enjoyed having
guests. She'd never had children of her own, must still carry a strong
maternal urge. As a large tray of tea, biscuits, scones and cake
entered the room, supported only just by the little woman, the two
girls tucked in greedily and drank their weak, milky tea.
"This is very nice, Mrs Preston" Began Hattie, "Thank you very
much?erm, could I please go upstairs and use your toilet?"
"Of course, dear, of course! Top of the stairs, first door you
see!"
She washed her hands in the sink, and smiled at the little doll that
covered the toilet paper. As Hattie began to descend down the stairs,
something caught her eye from an open doorway. She turned around, and
walked slowly and quietly towards it. It was so pretty, the little
wooden box.