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in a twist. I see you take after your mother, after all.”
    He kept the engine running, then turned to her. “I’ve got an idea.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œLet’s spend the day together.”
    â€œI need to go to school.”
    â€œThey won’t miss you for one day.”
    â€œI want to go to school.”
    â€œAll right, all right.” She opened the passenger door herself, but George jumped out and ran around to the other side to hold it open for her.
    Her long legs were tangled in the straps of the satchel at her feet. She managed to free one foot, but then tried to get out of the car while the other was still caught.
    She fell out of the car before George was able to catch her. Her knee, face, and arms hit the pavement.
    â€œWhoops,” said George, reaching for her too late, not realizing that she had hurt herself. For a few silent seconds she lay still on the pavement, silent.
    As she looked up, George put two hands over his face. Her nose was bloodied from the fall and she was crying, a string of spit between one lip and the other.
    He took her arms and lifted her to her feet, but she pulled away from him. She was crying so loudly, her face smeared with blood and tears and holding her arms out from her body, as if she was a puppet.
    â€œHush,” he said to her, bending down and trying to thumb a tear from her cheek, but she only cried louder. He looked at his hand and saw a spot of her blood. He glanced around nervously in case anyone was watching. She was making so much noise and he realized that it would look as though he had done it. There was no one in sight.
    He knelt on the pavement. “Hush, I know it hurts, but you’re OK.”
    She was trying to speak to him through her tears, but he couldn’t understand. Above her cries, he heard a single pulse of a siren and looked up to see a police car two hundred yards away at the junction.
    â€œJesus Christ.” He scooped her up in his arms and put her back in the car, then locked the door and ran around to the driver’s seat.
    Inside the car her cries seemed louder and George was suddenly full of panic. He tried to keep his speed down on the narrow roads but headed straight for Olrig Street on the A9. He kept his eyes fixed on the mirrors, wondering where the police car had gone. He was driving a stolen car with a bag of used banknotes in the boot and a young, hurt child at his side, and George knew that could only go badly.
    She stopped crying suddenly and dabbed at her nose with the fingers of both hands.
    â€œPut your seat belt on, eh?” said George, preparing to accelerate as soon as they were on the main road.
    â€œWhere are we going? Take me back.”
    â€œI can’t take you back just now, button.”
    She began to cry again. It sounded different this time, no longer the low wail that came after she hit the pavement. Now it was quick gulping sobs. She sat up on her knees and began to slap the window with her palms.
    He pulled her back into her seat. The tires screeched against the tarmac as he turned on to Olrig Street.
    â€œPut your seat belt on,” said George, but she couldn’t hear him. She tried to open the button lock on the door once or twice but George reached over and took her hand away, driving one-handed for a while with his left hand pinning her hands in her lap.
    â€œWould you calm down?” he shouted, and she quietened, looking up at him, still crying, her bottom lip curling.
    â€œThere’s no need to make such a fuss.” It was as if she wasn’t listening to him. “What was I supposed to do?” he said, almost to himself. “Jesus Christ.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead and ran a hand through his hair.
    He had to think what to do, but could think of nothing with the noise she was making.

CHAPTER 6
Angus Campbell
Wednesday, October 2, 1985
    A NGUS WAS SITTING IN HIS OFFICE TYPING UP A STORY ABOUT a sponsored sing-along by