hands and knees and carried on talking gently as I moved boxes and squeezed through the gap, inching towards the back wall. I wanted to do it nice and slowly. I didn’t know how she was going to react.
‘I’m going to put my head round the corner now, Kelly.’
I took a deep breath and moved my head round the back of the box, smiling away but ready for the worst.
She was there, facing me, eyes wide with terror, sitting curled up in a foetal position, rocking her body backwards and forwards, holding her hands over her ears.
‘Hello, Kelly,’ I said very softly.
She must have recognized me, but didn’t reply. She just carried on rocking, staring at me with wide, scared dark eyes.
‘Mummy and Daddy can’t come and get you out at the moment, but you can come with me. Daddy told me it would be OK. Are you going to come with me, Kelly?’
Still no reply. I crawled right into the cave until I was curled up beside her. She’d been crying and strands of light-brown hair were stuck to her face. I tried to move them away from her mouth. Her eyes were red and swollen.
‘You’re in a bit of a mess there,’ I said. ‘Do you want me to clean you up? Come on, let’s go and get you sorted out, shall we?’ I got hold of her hand and gently guided her out into the garage.
She was dressed in jeans, jean shirt, trainers and a blue nylon puffer jacket. Her hair was straight and just above her shoulders, a bit shorter than I remembered it, and she was quite lanky for a seven-year-old, with long, skinny legs. I picked her up in my arms and held her tight as I carried her into the kitchen. I knew the other doors were closed, so she wouldn’t see her dad.
I sat her down on a chair at the table. ‘Mummy and Daddy said they had to go away for a while, but asked me to look after you until they come back, OK?’
She was trembling so much I couldn’t tell if her head was nodding or shaking.
I went to the fridge and opened it, hoping to find some comfort food. Two large, half-eaten Easter eggs were on the shelf. ‘Mmm, yum – do you want some chocolate?’
I’d had a good relationship with Kelly. I thought she was a great kid, and that wasn’t just because she was my mate’s daughter. I smiled warmly, but she stared at the table.
I broke off a few pieces and put them on one of the side plates that she’d probably been setting earlier with Aida. I found the off switch on the radio; I’d had enough relaxing soft rock for one day.
As I looked at her again I suddenly realized I’d fucked up. What was I going to do with her? I couldn’t just leave her here; her family were lying dead all over the house. But, more importantly, she knew me. When the police arrived she’d be able to say, ‘Nick Stone was here.’ They’d soon find out that Nick Stone was one of Daddy’s mates and the house was full of photographs with me in them. And, if they did arrest the grinning drunk in the barbecue shots, they’d find that, for some strange reason, he wasn’t Nick Stone at all, he was Mrs Stamford’s little boy. As they used to say in the Harp commercial, time to make a sharp exit.
Kev’s jacket was hanging over one of the chairs. I said, ‘Let’s wrap you up in your dad’s coat; that’ll keep you nice and warm.’ At least she’d have something of her dad’s; with luck it would cheer her up.
There was just a little bit of whimpering in reply. She was almost in rigor mortis with shock, though at least she had turned her head to look at me now. This was where normally I would have let Marsha take over, because a child’s mind was far too complicated for me to work out. But I couldn’t do that today.
I wrapped the coat around her and said, ‘Here you are, get this around you. Look, it’s your dad’s! Don’t tell him, eh, ha ha ha!’ I felt something solid in one of the pockets and checked. ‘Oh good, look, we can phone him up later.’
I looked out of the window – no movement. I picked up the bin liner,
‘I’m going to put my head round the corner now, Kelly.’
I took a deep breath and moved my head round the back of the box, smiling away but ready for the worst.
She was there, facing me, eyes wide with terror, sitting curled up in a foetal position, rocking her body backwards and forwards, holding her hands over her ears.
‘Hello, Kelly,’ I said very softly.
She must have recognized me, but didn’t reply. She just carried on rocking, staring at me with wide, scared dark eyes.
‘Mummy and Daddy can’t come and get you out at the moment, but you can come with me. Daddy told me it would be OK. Are you going to come with me, Kelly?’
Still no reply. I crawled right into the cave until I was curled up beside her. She’d been crying and strands of light-brown hair were stuck to her face. I tried to move them away from her mouth. Her eyes were red and swollen.
‘You’re in a bit of a mess there,’ I said. ‘Do you want me to clean you up? Come on, let’s go and get you sorted out, shall we?’ I got hold of her hand and gently guided her out into the garage.
She was dressed in jeans, jean shirt, trainers and a blue nylon puffer jacket. Her hair was straight and just above her shoulders, a bit shorter than I remembered it, and she was quite lanky for a seven-year-old, with long, skinny legs. I picked her up in my arms and held her tight as I carried her into the kitchen. I knew the other doors were closed, so she wouldn’t see her dad.
I sat her down on a chair at the table. ‘Mummy and Daddy said they had to go away for a while, but asked me to look after you until they come back, OK?’
She was trembling so much I couldn’t tell if her head was nodding or shaking.
I went to the fridge and opened it, hoping to find some comfort food. Two large, half-eaten Easter eggs were on the shelf. ‘Mmm, yum – do you want some chocolate?’
I’d had a good relationship with Kelly. I thought she was a great kid, and that wasn’t just because she was my mate’s daughter. I smiled warmly, but she stared at the table.
I broke off a few pieces and put them on one of the side plates that she’d probably been setting earlier with Aida. I found the off switch on the radio; I’d had enough relaxing soft rock for one day.
As I looked at her again I suddenly realized I’d fucked up. What was I going to do with her? I couldn’t just leave her here; her family were lying dead all over the house. But, more importantly, she knew me. When the police arrived she’d be able to say, ‘Nick Stone was here.’ They’d soon find out that Nick Stone was one of Daddy’s mates and the house was full of photographs with me in them. And, if they did arrest the grinning drunk in the barbecue shots, they’d find that, for some strange reason, he wasn’t Nick Stone at all, he was Mrs Stamford’s little boy. As they used to say in the Harp commercial, time to make a sharp exit.
Kev’s jacket was hanging over one of the chairs. I said, ‘Let’s wrap you up in your dad’s coat; that’ll keep you nice and warm.’ At least she’d have something of her dad’s; with luck it would cheer her up.
There was just a little bit of whimpering in reply. She was almost in rigor mortis with shock, though at least she had turned her head to look at me now. This was where normally I would have let Marsha take over, because a child’s mind was far too complicated for me to work out. But I couldn’t do that today.
I wrapped the coat around her and said, ‘Here you are, get this around you. Look, it’s your dad’s! Don’t tell him, eh, ha ha ha!’ I felt something solid in one of the pockets and checked. ‘Oh good, look, we can phone him up later.’
I looked out of the window – no movement. I picked up the bin liner,
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