Play Dead (D.I. Kim Stone, #4)(78)

‘There was a girl with a name that reminded me of a doll,’ she said.

‘Jemima,’ Bryant offered.

‘Yes, that’s it,’ Elsie said, smiling.

‘Louise?’ he continued.

‘Yes, there was a Louise there, I think.’

Kim stepped in. ‘How about Joanna?’

She thought and then nodded. ‘Yes, there was a Joanna there also.’

Kim glanced at Bryant. She was guessing she could work her way through a baby girls’ name book and Elsie Hinton would agree that they’d all been there.

Bryant returned her glance with a look that said it was worth one last try.

He leaned forwards. ‘And can you tell us the name of the girl being held down?’

Elsie looked from one to the other. ‘Oh, Mr Jackson didn’t remember it very well, did he? The child being held on the floor was a little boy.’





Seventy





It was that day that changed my life for ever.

I looked over to where the gym mats were piled high but Louise wasn’t looking that way.

She was looking at me.

Her face was strange. There was a smile, but it didn’t make me feel happy inside. It made me feel scared.

Louise nodded and suddenly everyone started moving towards me. Louise was in front with that excited look on her face, and the others all looked the same.

I backed away.

My stomach turned, and I didn’t know why.

‘Get her, Jemima,’ Louise said.

I didn’t know who Jemima was.

A girl with short blonde hair emerged from the pack and moved to my left. I looked from her to Louise.

My back hit the cool metal wall bars.

Jemima grabbed at my left arm and pulled me towards her. Louise grabbed at my right. They pulled me in different directions. I didn’t know which way they wanted me to go.

I pushed my back against the bars.

‘You two get her legs,’ Louise said.

One of the girls limped forwards and reached down. I kicked out to make them stop, but the girl with the limp caught my left ankle and pulled.

I fell to the ground.

‘Stop it,’ I cried as a sea of faces began to gather above me, blocking out the light.

Louise’s face came closer – excited, curious, determined.

‘Please leave me alone,’ I begged.

‘Shut up,’ Jemima said, removing my shoe.

‘Get off me,’ I cried.

Jemima shoved my sock in my mouth. My cries were muffled by the cloth.

The faces above peered closer, a ceiling of excited expressions.

I felt my pretty yellow dress being pushed up my legs. Cool air found its way to my thighs.

‘Do it, do it, do it,’ a few voices began to chant.

Do what? I wanted to scream.

The chatter was almost deafening. The nervous giggles were fanning my fear.

I thrashed my head trying to see into their faces. I needed to know what I’d done, and I would never do it again.

I would promise.

The chanting got louder. ‘Do it, do it, do it.’

Clumsy little fingers pinched my skin as they grabbed for my knickers.

The faces got closer.

I tried to move, but there was nowhere to go. I was cocooned in a web of faces peering down at me.

The chanting was louder in my ear as the heads came closer and closer, suffocating me.

‘Do it, do it, do it.’

I wanted to cover my eyes and my ears.

The stubby fingers pulled at my panties. The elastic moved down my thigh. The fabric was gathered at my knees.

The chanting suddenly stopped. For a second I was relieved. They were going to let me up now. They were going to let me go.

‘Look, look, she has a willy!’ Louise screamed.

The first laugh was nervous, unsure and then another joined in, and then another.

‘I told you, didn’t I?’ Louise cried triumphantly.

The laughter grew louder. Even louder than the chants.

The faces swam before me as heat flooded my face.

I didn’t know what a willy was, but somehow it sounded wrong.

The laughter was booming into my head.

Louise’s face came closer to mine.

‘You’re a little girl with a willy,’ she said, and the laughter exploded.

My tummy began to swim, and I tried to cry out against the cloth.

I just wanted to make it stop.

‘Little girls don’t have willies,’ Jemima cried.

The laughter kept growing louder, but then a small voice sounded beside me.

‘Stop it,’ it said.

I wondered if my thoughts had made it out of my head.

‘Stop it, all of you.’

I realised that the voice hadn’t come from me. It had come from the girl with the limp.

I knew it would never end. I knew that I would be pinned to the ground for the rest of my life.

My vision began to blur, and the faces all melted together. I wanted to make it stop, block it out.

I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t close my ears.

The laughter and chanting went on, the faces continued to hover above me long after Mrs Shaw stood me up and led me away.

They never went away, Mummy. Every time I closed my eyes, they were there. Every time my ears held no other sound, they were there. Every time I lay down to sleep, they were there.