I always knew they’d come for me. I’m glad it was Den, in the end, who found us.
When they searched the flat, I was panicking the whole time. I didn’t want it to end like that, with them finding her in the hidey hole in the roof. I nearly had a heart attack when the officer asked about the loft space, and another when I spotted a fleck of paint on the duvet, left there from me chipping away the paint that had sealed the trapdoor for years, with my screwdriver. You’d only see it on Evie’s lovely swirly duvet cover if you were looking for it, though. And he wasn’t looking because who would suspect the little old lady next door? There are advantages to being old, invisible, overlooked.
She kept quiet while they were in the flat, good as gold. Quiet when her mum was there using the bathroom, too. She didn’t want to go home, see? Not then. We’d been having the time of our lives. I cooked for her and read her stories. She did some drawing for me. We watched telly together, cuddled up on the sofa as happy as anything. It felt like it was meant to be.
She’d knocked on my door – cold, wet through, terrified because that little shit Danno had been chasing her – and I knew the moment I saw her that this was my chance. I missed Evie so much. I’d never stopped missing her. Now here was another little girl, sent from heaven. The second chance I’d waited a lifetime for.
When we nipped next door to fetch her cuggy, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The state of the place. Leaving her all alone in that miserable flat – that’s criminal in my eyes. I could do so much better. I could give her everything she’d been missing out on.
It was only later that she wanted to go home. I don’t know what changed exactly, but she started getting whiny. I couldn’t have that. Couldn’t have her making noise. I turned the telly up louder, but even so it was getting risky.
That’s when the sleeping pills came in handy. I had hundreds of them. They’re a bit mean with them nowadays but in the past they doled them out like sweeties, those and antidepressants. I had a nice stock of them, too.
The only trouble was I couldn’t have her anywhere in the flat all woozy. I wouldn’t be able to get her up into our emergency hiding place if she was out of it, so I made it into a game. Got her up into the roof space while she was awake and then handed her up a little picnic – iced buns and a flask full of hot chocolate. That stuff’s so sweet you’d never taste the crushed-up pills. I wasn’t sure how many it would take – she’s only a slip of a thing – but I needed to be sure she’d sleep. I needed to buy some thinking time.
I had a sleepless night wondering what to do next. I couldn’t bear to take her home. The police had talked about child protection and social workers and that, but there were no guarantees that they wouldn’t send her back into that flat with Sandy. I don’t hate Sandy or anything. She’s just not up to the job and that kiddie deserves better. But I couldn’t keep her in my flat forever. I thought maybe we could get out, go somewhere where no one knew us, maybe the seaside or something, but who was I kidding? I could barely breathe walking along on the flat now. My legs were swollen something terrible and I was having trouble with my eyes. It was over, or it soon would be. Maybe one last adventure. We’d walk until I couldn’t walk anymore. Me and my girl.
I made it as far as our special place. My eyes were shot, but I knew the path so well it didn’t matter – a blurry river of lights leading the way through the darkness and down the hill, my trolley trundling along behind me. Hold my hand, Evie, that’s a good girl. Shall we feed the ducks today? Don’t go near the edge, though. Stay back here, darling. Safe with me.