Part 12 (1/2)

”We'll take a look.”

She was still on the sofa, her arms curled tight around Charlie. The

blare of the television didn't disturb her as she slept. There were

tears drying on her cheeks. Seeing them, Bev's heart broke a little.

”I guess we'd better get the decorators busy on a bedroom upstairs.”

EMmA LAY IN the bed between fresh soft sheets and kept her eyes tightly

closed. She knew if she opened them, it would be dark. There were

things that hid in the dark.

She kept a hammerlock on Charlie's neck and listened. Sometimes the

things made swis.h.i.+ng noises.

She couldn't hear them now, but she knew they were waiting. Waiting for

her to open her eyes. A whimper escaped and she bit her lip. Mam always

got mad if she cried at night. Mam would come in and shake her hard,

tell her she was stupid and a baby. The things would slink under the

bed or into the corners while her mam was there.

Emma buried her face in Charlie's familiar, stale-smelling fur.

She remembered that she was in a different place. The place where the

man from the pictures lived. Some of the fear vanished in curiosity. He

said she could call him Dad. That was a funny name. Keeping her eyes

closed, she tried it, murmuring it into the dark like a chant.

They had eaten fish and chips in the kitchen with the dark-haired lady.

There had been music. It seemed music played in the house all the time.

Whenever the Dad man spoke, it sounded like music.

The lady had seemed unhappy even when she had smiled. Emma wondered if

the lady was going to wait until they were alone before she hit.

He'd given her a bath. Emma remembered that he'd had a funny look on