Read Online Everything She Forgot by Lisa Ballantyne - Free Book Online

whatever you want, but you’ve already had a bad start to your day. Look at your knee.”
    Moll looked down at her grazed and bleeding knee, then looked back up at George, her lips shiny with spit.
    â€œWouldn’t you like to get your day back on the right track? Let’s have some fun before you start school.”
    Moll was still wary, but he could tell that she was coming around to him.
    He stooped and held out his arm. Moll considered for a second and then slipped her hand through.
    George started the car and drove slowly through town. “Do you want to go to school, or do you want to go on an adventure?” he said, winking at Moll.
    â€œI should go to school,” she said, slipping her hands between her knees.
    â€œI thought maybe we could drive around for a bit—have a chat, get to know each other?”
    She shook her head vigorously. She had started to look anxious as soon as he pulled off the school road. As she was staring straight ahead and her right eye was patched, it was hard for George to see her expression without taking his eyes off the road, but he guessed she was nervous, from the tension in her long thin limbs.
    â€œYou really like school then?” he asked, driving slowly, smiling at her as he talked. His mother had always told him he could charm the hind legs off a donkey, and so George smiled and carried on, even though Moll had begun to pull and twist the skin on the back of her hands.
    â€œYes,” she said, her voice brittle. “Can we go there now? I’m late.”
    â€œSchool’ll be there tomorrow, but this adventure won’t.”
    â€œI don’t like adventures,” she said.
    The skin on the back of her hand was now red. She was a strange eyeless creature, sitting erect beside him. He could almost feel her panic. She was like the bird that had gottentrapped in their kitchen when he was a boy, which had killed itself battering at the panes of glass to get out, even though they had opened the window.
    â€œOK, OK .” He turned the car and began to drive back to the school gates. There were no more children around, and George assumed she was right about being late. It was not yet nine o’clock, but he had long forgotten what time school started; even when he had attended school, he had rarely been on time.
    â€œWhen you’re at school,” said George, trying another tactic, “those girls still push you around?”
    â€œSometimes,” said Moll.
    â€œIn class . . . the teachers . . . they let them pick on you?”
    â€œThey don’t see it happening.”
    â€œThat’s not right. How tall are you, do you know? Does your mother measure you?”
    â€œOn my birthday, I was four feet ten.”
    â€œThat’s tall for your age, isn’t it?”
    â€œMe and a boy in my class called Stuart are the equal tallest.”
    â€œHow old are you now? You must be seven?”
    â€œI’m seven and three-quarters.”
    She turned to him, eyebrows raised in emphasis, and he saw that his questions had calmed her down.
    â€œWhy don’t you tell someone . . . tell your teachers what they do to you?”
    â€œNobody likes people who tell tales,” said Moll, as if by rote.
    â€œDid you not tell your mum?”
    â€œYes, but . . .”
    â€œI reckon you could take them, you know that? I can teach you a few tricks, so that even if they come at you in a three again like that, you can still do them some damage.”
    â€œMy mum says to say, ‘Sticks and stones will break my bones, but names’ll never hurt me.’”
    â€œNames maybe not, but they laid hands on you; they pushed you to the ground. I saw them.”
    Moll sighed. “I should go anyway. Can you take me back now?” As she turned to him he saw the scorching intensity in her single blue eye.
    â€œWe’re here,” he said, drawing up outside the school gates. “No need to get your knickers