Part 7 (1/2)

'Goodbye,' she said, and turned away abruptly, closing the door behind her.

Zoe was left standing in the sunlight with the sound of Mr Wood's saw, and the low chug-chug-chug of a barge going past on the ca.n.a.l.

17.

All day at work people talked about Lorne Wood. Every place Sally cleaned someone would mention it, would shake their head and say how terrible it was as if she was one of their own children. Sally didn't much want to talk about it, she didn't want to think about how easily it could have been Millie. This morning she'd taken the spoiled tarot card out of the pack and hidden it in a drawer. The remainder were wrapped in a cloth inside her tote bag because today she was working near the hippie shop, and there might be an opportunity to go in and show the cards to the owner. But in the end she couldn't summon up the courage. Instead she locked them in the boot of the car and tried to stop thinking about them.

It was the day she sometimes picked up Millie from school, rather than let her take the bus. She parked in a street opposite, along with all the other mothers, their windows open to watch the gates. Nial and Peter came out and pa.s.sed, holding up a hand to say hi to her, then, after a short interval, Sophie on her own. The moment she saw Sally she hurried over to the car. 'Mrs Benedict, Millie's still in the cla.s.sroom. She wants you to go and get her.'

'Why?'

'I don't know. She's upset.'

Sally locked the car and went inside quickly, hurrying down the vaulted-stone corridors. The cla.s.sroom was at the other side of the school it was very old-fas.h.i.+oned, lined with bookshelves, stuffed with books and learning aids. Light came through the tall mullioned windows. At one of the individual desks that faced the windows, Millie sat with her head drooping forward. When she heard the door open she turned. Her face was tight, as if a hand was holding it from behind and forcing her head to move.

'Mum.'

She came and stood at the desk. 'Are you OK? I saw Sophie.'

'I don't feel well, Mum. Can you bring the car in through the back entrance and pick me up next to the sports hall?'

'What's wrong? You should have called.'

'Nothing. I mean it's my stomach. It's just a bit-'

'Your stomach?'

'It's crampy.'

'Your period?'

'No just I don't know. It feels a bit squirmy.'

Sally examined Millie's face. She'd never been good at knowing when her daughter was lying. But right now she suspected that whatever was wrong with Millie it had nothing to do with her stomach. She looked as if she was hiding something. 'Did you speak to Matron?'

She shook her head, moved her eyes from Sally's scrutiny and stared out of the window. 'Please, Mum, can you just get the car?'

'Is this about Lorne? Are you upset?'

'No.'

'Then is it Glas...o...b..ry? Because, Millie, I can't change my mind, darling.'

'No. It's not not. I just feel ill. I swear swear.'

Sally sighed. 'OK. I'll be waiting round the side in five minutes.'

She picked up the car from the street and stopped it in the courtyard that faced the modern buildings of the new sports hall. Millie came out, her school blazer draped over her shoulders, her face down, and got quickly into the car. 'Can we go straight home?'

'You'll have to tell me what's happening.'

'Please.' She curled into the seat and pulled her knees up. 'Please, Mum.'

'Either you tell me what's going on or we're going to the doctor's.'

'No, Mum, I feel better now. I just want to go home.'

Sally put the car in gear and drove to the end of the tarmac drive, stopping at the intersection. She indicated left. Millie jerked sideways in her seat, her hand shooting out to grab the steering-wheel. 'No! Wait wait, Mum, please wait. Don't.'

'What is it?'

Millie was trembling. Her face was white, but Sally knew it wasn't pain. If she had to put a finger on it she'd have said it was fear. 'Millie?'

'Go right. Right Right.'

'But left is the way home.'

'We can go the back way. All my friends are out there. They'll do the L on the forehead thing if they see me taken off by Mummy. Loser.'

'No one's there. They've gone.'

'Can we just go the back way, Mum? Please go right.'

Sally took the car out of gear. 'I'm sorry, Millie, but it's left. Unless you tell me what's going on.'

'Oh, G.o.d G.o.d!' She screwed up her fists. 'OK, OK. Just let me give me a moment to ...' She shuffled down the seat so she was crushed in the footwell.

'What are you doing?'

'There's someone out there. In a purple jeep. I've got to avoid him.'

'Who?'

'Just someone.'

Down on the floor Millie's face was white, her pupils dilated, She wasn't just afraid she was terrified. As if there was a monster out in the street. Sally eyed the phone in its holster on the dashboard and wondered who she could call. Isabelle? Steve?

'Please, Mum! Can we go?'

Sally swallowed and put the car in gear. She inched it out over the junction and peered up and down the street. Her palms were sweating on the vinyl steering-wheel. The street was quieter now the schoolkids had indeed gone, but, on the far side of the road, its nose facing the school gates, was parked a strange-looking purple four-wheel drive. It had bull-bars, a snorkel, and what looked like daggers embedded in the wheels.

Sally pulled the Ka out into the road.

'Is he there?' Millie dragged the blazer over her head and shrank further into the footwell, her hands over her head. 'Is he? Oh, my G.o.d, I'm so so dead.' dead.'