Another girl has gone missing.
It’s been more than two weeks since Jane Denton was killed and now Sally Ward has disappeared. She’s not been seen since after school on Friday. That’s twenty-four hours and the adults are going crazy. Some of the kids are saying that she was a friend of Jane’s, though some say that’s not true, and no one really knows what to think.
Earlier today I saw the Superintendent marching across the grounds. Mr Gordon always looks angry, but this time he looked like he was going to kill someone himself.
Mr Paterson is suddenly being protective of us for a change. Just before we sit down to eat, he sticks out his chin and says no one is allowed out of the house after tea, even if we have finished our chores, and that there is going to be a curfew from now on. Other than going to school and back, if we leave the house we must get permission from him or Mrs Paterson.
Sally Ward is fourteen or fifteen, just like Jane Denton was. I don’t think there are any rumours of boys. I have never heard of her; she’s not one of the ones we know. She’s not from a cottage near ours – I think she’s in 29 over the other side of the village – and she’s probably not pretty. You tend to know who the pretty ones are, and you tend to know the people in the cottages around yours as we are in and out of each other’s.
Everyone is so excited at tea. I’m not sure I mean excited, maybe agitated, even more so than when Jane went missing. We are all talking at the same time and the noise is really loud. After saying those things about us being safe Mr Paterson gets angry and starts shouting over us to make himself heard. He tells us we all have to eat in silence and anyone who speaks will be sent to bed without any food.
So we are silent. Jonesy can’t bear that; she keeps pulling a face at me. Mr Paterson sees her and makes her stand outside and wait until everyone has finished their tea before she is allowed back in to eat on her own. She hadn’t spoken so he couldn’t send her to her room.
Jonesy doesn’t care, which is her problem. She never cares when she’s told off. I don’t know how she does it. I hate it when they shout at me.
When we get back to our bedroom all the girls are round Jonesy’s bed as she tells them that if Sally is dead too, then that means there’s a mass murderer on the loose killing girls at the Homes and we could be next.
‘It’s like you said, Jonesy, it’s like the Montrose murderer, isn’t it?’ I say.
‘Exactly,’ said Jonesy. ‘He’s out killing and raping again.’
‘What, you think he’s escaped?’ says Mary.
‘No, I told you, he cannae have escaped cos they hanged him in Barlinnie,’ I say.
‘What if they hanged the wrong fella?’ says Jonesy.
‘Naw, they hanged the right fella. No more murders once he was hanged.’
‘Aye, until now, that is. Mibbie it was someone else and they’ve just been lying low. And why do they always want to kill young girls? Can’t they kill old men or something, or is it more fun for them to kill kids like us?’
‘Whit’s going on?’ says Mrs Paterson, entering the room.
‘Why do they always wanna kill young girls?’ Jonesy asks her.
‘What on earth are yous talking about?’
‘There’s a killer on the loose and they are killing young girls.’
Mrs Paterson rubs her face, then fixes Jonesy with a look. ‘One unfortunate girl was killed, that’s true. But today’s event is different. A girl has gone missing – it’s happened before; it will happen again. Sally will turn up and you’ll see what nonsense you’re talking. Now, lights out and go to bed. And if there’s any more chat there’ll be no film tomorrow.’
A collective cry of ‘MIIIISSSSS!’ goes up at the threat.
She turns the light out and I know Jonesy is going to say something. I know it.
But she doesn’t, she doesn’t say anything. For a whole two minutes, and then she says, ‘Well, she would say that, wouldn’t she? She’s just jealous that they dinnae want to kill and rape her because she’s too old.’
I lie there shaking my head in the dark.