Read Online The Child Garden by Catriona McPherson - Free Book Online Page B

morning.”
    Then I went to the bathroom to undress for bed. I peed, washed my face, and undid my hair to brush it, but as the cistern finished filling and quieted, I thought I heard something. Yes! There was a car bumping along the track. I switched off the bathroom light and crept through the hall in the darkness just in time to hear two car doors.
    â€œGlo!” Stig’s voice, a fierce whisper, came from upstairs.
    â€œSsh,” I whispered back.
    â€œBe careful!” He probably meant don’t open up in case it’s a madman . But I had heard the radios and I knew I had to be careful in very different way. I didn’t understand. Had they traced the call? Had someone seen me?
    The knock, when it came, was loud enough to set my heart hammering, but they probably meant it to wake someone sleeping upstairs. I clicked on the porch light and opened the door. Policemen don’t like to look surprised, but their eyes were wide and one of them moved his feet.
    â€œI heard you coming,” I said. “Is it Nicky?”
    â€œMrs. Morrison?” said one of them. The rain was dripping off the peak of his hat.
    â€œHarkness,” I said. “I went back to my maiden name. Is it Nicky? Is something wrong?”
    â€œCan we come in, Ms. Harkness?”
    My mind flashed to the kitchen. The two chairs by the stove, Stig’s clothes drying on the pulley, April’s bag wherever he had left it.
    â€œOf course,” I said, “but please, I’m begging you, tell me what’s wrong.” I ushered them in and steered them to the right, along the hall to the living room, cold as the grave, the fire full of ash from last weekend. They didn’t sit and neither did I. We just stood there in a ring, our breath pluming.
    â€œWe’ve had a report of suspicious behaviour,” said the one who hadn’t spoken before. My stomach dropped and then bounced back up all the way to my throat.
    â€œHave you been out tonight?” said the other.
    â€œI went to see my son, at the home,” I said. “Is it nothing to do with Nicky, then?” How could someone have seen my car? There wasn’t a single house between me and the huttie the way we had gone. There hadn’t been a single set of headlights either. And the road to the Shawhead phone box was deserted too. Who had seen me?
    â€œA red Skoda,” said the older of the two policemen. Stig’s car, in the byre now with the door padlocked. “Did you see a vehicle answering that description?”
    â€œI don’t think so,” I said. “There were cars parked at the home—the backshift staff, you know—but I don’t think I saw a red Skoda. I can’t be sure, I kept my head down. This weather, you know. Should I be worried?”
    â€œThe driver’s not a very pleasant chap, Ms. Harkness. Given to stalking. We had a report that he was prowling these back roads tonight. Scared a young woman enough that she called us.”
    â€œWhen?” I said. “Now? He’s out there now? Did you tell them up at the home? There’s a lot of vulnerable people there. My son, Nicky, and lots of others.”
    â€œWe’ve just come from the home,” said the older cop. The young one had lost interest. He was rubbing his hands together, blowing on them, ready to be away from this cold house and this hysterical old bag who kept on about her son. I could tell what he thought from the way he had stopped looking at me.
    â€œProbably long gone,” said the other one. “The call came in at eight.”
    â€œAnd yo u waited until now?” I said, after only a second’s pause. “Too bad if he was here. He’s had three hours to chop me into pieces and drive away again.”
    They didn’t like that, but they were too well-trained to show it much.
    â€œHe’s only accused of prowling. So far.”
    â€œWell, I didn’t see him or his car,” I told