Bad Little Girl(15)

7





Nobody had answered the phone at Lorna’s house, and Claire wrestled with the school database till she found the address, because Lorna didn’t seem to know the exact address, just the name of the estate Claire was familiar with through court notices in the local paper.

The caretaker had been hovering around them for the last half an hour, hissing impatiently. He wanted to close up.

‘Well, Lorna, it looks as if I’m taking you home.’ Claire helped the girl on with her coat and pushed the heavy door to the playground with one shoulder. Lorna skipped ahead towards the lone car in the car park.

‘I’m going to your house?’

‘No! I’m taking you to your house.’

‘Can I come to yours instead?’

‘Oh Lorna, no. Your parents will be worried about you. Your brother too.’

‘They won’t.’

Claire didn’t really want to carry on down this path, because she was sure Lorna was right. The caretaker turned all the lights off before they got to the car. Lorna stumbled in the dark, and pulled on Claire’s coat.

‘It’s spooky out here.’

‘You can get in the front and I’ll make sure the heating’s on. Right, now. I know your address, but I’m not sure exactly how to get there. Can you tell me when we’re close by?’

Lorna folded herself stiffly in the front seat of the little Fiesta, her toes only just touching the floor. ‘I don’t know it in the dark,’ she murmured.

‘Well, it gets dark early now, it’s nearly Christmas. Do you have Christmas at home Lorna, or do you go to your grandparents?’

The girl was drawing pictures in the window fog. ‘Oh yes. Yes, all the grandparents come over, and my aunties and uncles and we have a big party,’ she replied tonelessly.

‘That sounds lovely.’

‘It is,’ said Lorna, turning around, suddenly animated, ‘it really is. There’s lots of cake and crackers. And sweets. My Uncle Dale does magic tricks. And we play games too.’

‘What kind of games?’

‘Um. Party games? And sing-songs. Christmas songs. It’s fun.’

‘It sounds like fun,’ said Claire, thinking about her Christmases – alone with Mother, barely different from any other day really. ‘It sounds like a lot of fun.’ They were driving through the town centre now, past the forlorn little shopping arcade, the freezing bus stops, the all-day drinkers.

‘And then we all go to the fair.’

‘A fair on Christmas Day?’

‘No, not the fair,’ the child groped for a different word. ‘The circus? And we feed the animals because my Uncle Dale knows the owners. They have elephants and little dogs that do tricks and my mum’s friend swings on the trapeze. They say that I can join the circus when I’m sixteen. I can balance on the string thing.’

‘The high wire?’

‘Yeah. And the day after Christmas we go to the seaside.’

‘A bit cold though?’

‘Yes, really cold. But we like the cold. And we all have a big barbeque on the beach and we have races and I always win. I always win.’

She stopped just as abruptly as she’d started, and Claire felt unbearably sorry for this girl whose Christmas must be so desolate. Lorna was tenderly stroking the seat. She seemed to be blinking back tears.

‘It’s nice in here. It’s really clean. Smells nice.’ She touched the hanging air freshener. ‘Is it this?’

‘Yes. It’s eucalyptus.’

‘Eu-ca-lyp-tus.’ Lorna smiled, turning, sunny again. ‘That sounds funny when I say it.’

Claire rummaged in the glove compartment.

‘Are you hungry, Lorna? You’ve only had those chocolate fingers – here, I have these funny crisps. It might take the edge off.’

Lorna opened the bag suspiciously and sniffed at them. She picked the smallest one and chewed meditatively.

‘Do you like them?’

‘They’re weird.’

‘They’re plantains.’

‘What?’

‘It’s a kind of fried banana. Like a tropical banana. Do you like them?’

She swallowed with difficulty. ‘Yes.’

Claire laughed, ‘You don’t have to have them. They’re not everyone’s cup of tea. I eat them because they’re healthier than real crisps. Help keep me trim.’

‘But you’re not fat. You’re beautiful.’

Claire felt her face go pink. Nobody had ever said that to her before. ‘That’s a sweet thing to say.’

‘It’s true. You’re the most beautiful of all the teachers. And the kindest and the loveliest.’

‘Oh! Golly!’

‘Where do you live?’

‘Very close by actually, just there,’ she lied, pointing at the venerable old houses on Norma’s street. For some reason she didn’t want to tell the girl that she lived alone in a flat.

Lorna was drawing on the window again. ‘I’m hungry. Can we go to your house and have a sandwich?’

‘Oh, no. Not really. We have to get you home, won’t be long now, you can wait ten minutes?’

‘I’m really hungry though.’