Read Online Girl, Missing by Sophie McKenzie - Free Book Online Page B

started closing the door.
    â€˜Wait,’ I said, pushing it open against her.
    â€˜Hey. Dejame. Puta. Get out.’ The girl’s voice rose in a shriek.
    â€˜Please, is there anyone else you can ask? Someone who might remember who used to live here?’
    But the girl had totally lost it. She was screaming at me now. Lots of Spanish words I didn’t understand.
    â€˜No se,’ she shouted. ‘I don’t know.’ She slammed the door shut.
    I blinked. I could sense a few of the other doors open further down the corridor. People nosing outside to see what all the noise was about. There was a shuffling of feet as they turned and went inside.
    I looked up at Jam.
    â€˜Guess that’s it,’ he said.
    â€˜Excuse me, darlin’.’
    I looked round. An old lady in the apartment opposite had appeared at her door. She was stooped over with age, and the skin on her face and arms was wrinkled in folds like fine paper.
    â€˜Did I hear you askin’ for Sonia?’ she said ‘Sonia Holtwood?’
    â€˜Yes.’ I looked at her eagerly. ‘Do you know her? Did she used to live here?’
    The old lady stared at me with bright, hard eyes. ‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘She was only here a short time, but I used to babysit her little girl.’

13
    Bettina
    The lady said her name was Bettina.
    â€˜How d’ya’all know Sonia, then?’ she said.
    â€˜It’s not . . . I mean . . .’ I stammered, reluctant to tell a stranger my story.
    But Bettina guessed. ‘You’re never Sonia’s little girl?’ she said.
    I nodded, my face flushing.
    Bettina clasped her crooked twig-fingers together in delight. ‘Saints alive! I never thought . . . Well come in, come in.’
    She ushered us into her little apartment, chattering like a bird. ‘So where’s your mama? Where’d’y’all get that accent?’
    I sat on the edge of a fussily patterned chair. It clashed with the carpet and the curtains. The sort of thing Mum hated.
    â€˜I was adopted when I was three,’ I said awkwardly. ‘I live in Britain. I’m trying to find out about Sonia because, because . . .’ My voice died away. Apart from the sound of a ticking clock the room was silent.
    Because she knows where I’m from. She knows where I belong. Because I think she stole me from my real family
.
    Bettina stared at me with sad eyes. ‘Adopted? Poor child,’ she whispered.
    I looked round, embarrassed by her sympathy. There were cushions on the seats and little ornaments on every shelf. It was kind of homey. I wondered if I’d ever crawled over the sofa when I was little.
    Bettina went off to make some tea. A few minutes later she came back in, a tray of cups and saucers rattling in her hands. Jam jumped up and dashed over to her. ‘Let me take that,’ he smiled. He set the tray on a low table in front of one of the sofas.
    â€˜Charmin’,’ Bettina nodded approvingly at him. ‘What lovely British manners.’ She sat down on the sofa.
    â€˜When did you last see her?’ I said.
    Bettina leaned forward and slowly arranged the cups on the saucers. ‘She only stayed here a few weeks. An’ it was a long, long time ago. Ten, eleven years maybe. People do that now. Come an’ go. No roots.’
    â€˜So . . . so what was she like?’ I said.
    Bettina looked down. I noticed her ears were pierced. The long earring was dragging the hole in her earlobe down.
    â€˜Sonia was very private,’ she said slowly. ‘She didn’t want people knowin’ her business. I prob’ly wouldn’t evenremember her if it wasn’t for you. She never told me anythin’ about herself. To be truthful an’ all – I hope you don’t mind me sayin’ – she didn’t seem the motherly type.’
    Bettina poured the tea, then set the teapot down with a sigh. ‘I didn’t see much