hand to steady himself, and with his left hand felt for Leo’s neck, and her pulse.
51
I’m awake. I can’t speak, but I can hear sounds - people talking, and I can feel soft hands stroking my arm. I know I’m going to get better.
I still have dreams though. I dream about Jessica and the day she died.
We’re on our own in the room. The Mother has gone out and we’re making a den. But Jessica is frightened.
‘It’s okay, Jess - it’s just a den. It won’t be like the cupboard, I promise. We’ve got to play quietly or we’ll be reported.’
I don’t know what that means, but I think it’s bad.
Jess is crying. Her arm is sore. The Mother doesn’t like it when we cry. She pushed me down the stairs the day before, and now my arm looks funny and really hurts. But it’ll get better. It did last time. I won’t cry again.
I hear her coming, and know that we have to be very, very good. I pull Jess close to me.
Then we’re in the cupboard. We’ve been good, but it doesn’t matter – we still have to hide away. Jess doesn’t look right. There’s something wrong. And suddenly I’m kicking, kicking, kicking.
Somebody is screaming. I’m being dragged across the floor by my ankles. The fat, greasy man is pulling the tape off Jess’s mouth and sick is pouring out. Jessica isn’t moving.
The man is getting dressed - and nobody’s helping Jess. I try to shout, but he runs out of the door as if he’s being chased by The Bogeyman. The Mother is wrapping Jessica in a dirty sheet. I try to scream ‘Help her, help her’ but I can’t. My mouth is taped shut.
I can’t run for help. My legs are tied together, but The Grunter’s left the door open, so I roll towards it. The mother sees me.
‘Come here, you little bastard,’ she shouts.
I can hear somebody on the stairs. The Mother drops Jessica, my little Jess, on the floor and runs towards me. She’s got my feet, and she’s pulling me away from the door. But she’s too late. Somebody’s got hold of me. Somebody’s taking the tape off my mouth and hugging me close to their body. There is only one word that I can say.
‘Jessica’
I remember now. I remember it all. Each time I dream about Jess and what happened, Mum tells me I’m safe. I’ll never hear that voice again.
But I did. Chloe’s mum. It was her.
In the end, it was the voice that I recognised.
I thought I’d escaped, but then she was here - here in the hospital where I was safe. That voice – again, whispering in my ear, so close to my head.
‘My little Abbie. I didn’t want to hurt you - I wanted to be friends - our secret.’
I couldn’t speak, but I wanted to scream and scream.
‘I shouldn’t have come for you on Friday. I got greedy. Chloe could have been your best friend, and as long as we never met, you would never have known it was me.’
A hand reached out and stroked the hair back from my face. Those dry lips brushed my forehead. I was trying to cry out, but I couldn’t. I knew the sounds weren’t coming out.
‘And each day when you told me what you were doing, where you were going, I could have watched you. I’ve been watching you for months, but you never saw me.’
I tried to move my body, to turn away from those horrible hands. The voice turned harsh.
‘You didn’t want me, though, did you? You wouldn’t let me explain. You were just like everybody else, judging me and finding me wanting. You’re the reason I went to prison, but I forgave you for that. Now it’ll be just like last time. You’ll tell lies about me, won’t you? You’ll say that I abducted you – but that’s not true. We were friends, you and me.’
I felt a pillow being yanked from under my head.
‘You left me no choice, Abbie. You should have loved me. It wasn’t much to ask.’
Suddenly there was a lot of noise, a breeze as the curtain was whisked back, and then she was gone.
Or that’s what I thought.
I heard a voice saying, “Be still. Be quiet.” A hand was stroking my head. I knew it wasn’t the same voice, but for a moment I thought she was back. I thought The Mother was back.