38

The cottage is always quiet when everyone has gone to school. The babies usually make a bit of a racket, except when it’s their morning nap. Then there’s a numb silence. But as I get closer to the house, I hear Mr and Mrs Paterson shouting inside. They don’t tend to shout that much at each other, at least not compared to some houseparents. Over in Amanda’s house, Cottage 9, apparently they row all the time, and sometimes one of them goes away for a few days.

Mr Paterson comes out of the house. He looks angry and is breathing through his nose.

‘Get in the car,’ he says shortly. I haven’t done anything wrong but he clearly doesn’t want to take me to school.

The car is a dark green. It has two doors and the seats fold forward if you need to get in the back. I don’t know the type of car, I’m not that interested in them. Some of the boys my age are; they still play with toy cars like they are children, even though they are twelve. Football and cars occupy their minds; they make them happy. Like a dog playing with a ball. I think in a couple of years they will wake up and realise there are girls all around them, and pay attention to us, but at the moment a lot of them don’t even know we exist. We know they exist; they don’t see us.

I get in the front seat. I’ve never been in Mr Paterson’s car. In fact, I haven’t been in many cars – I get buses or trains or walk – so getting in one is a treat, or it would be if someone more cheerful were driving. And I’ve never been in the front seat of a car before. I am excited and scared.

Mr Paterson starts the engine and we drive out of the Homes. I am not going to say anything to him, it will probably only make him angrier, so I just look out of the window at the passing fields and hope he doesn’t start shouting at me. It’s not my fault the Superintendent called the assembly and made me miss the bus.

After five minutes he actually speaks. ‘So how are you feeling, Lesley? I hope you’re not too scared with what’s been going on?’

‘It’s no nice, Mr Paterson,’ I say. ‘Why would someone do something like that to Jane and Sally?’

He stares at the road ahead. ‘Unfortunately, Lesley, there are some bad, bad people in the world.’

‘Like Peter Montrose?’

‘Aye, like him. He was a very bad man, and that’s why they hanged him. How do you know about him?’

‘I heard what he did. He raped and murdered women, didn’t he?’

‘Yes he did, but he’s gone now.’

‘Whit if they got the wrong person, Mr Paterson? Whit if Montrose wasn’t the killer?’

‘They didn’t hang the wrong person, Lesley.’

‘But whit if—’

‘Lesley!’

I look down at my shoes. They are black lace-ups. I try to keep them as clean as I can because the teachers can pull you up on them if they are scruffy. The sole on the left one is starting to wear away near my big toe and sometimes water seeps in if it is a wet day.

‘You do feel safe, don’t you, Lesley? You know you have grown-ups around you that you can trust. We won’t let anything happen to you.’

‘Aye, Mr Paterson.’

We carry on driving. I thought he was just going to drive me to the train station, but we go all the way into the town.

We are about two minutes away from the school when I say, ‘Mr Paterson, me and Jonesy are going to find out who did it. We’ll work it out and then we’ll all be safe.’

‘You do that, Lesley, you do that,’ he says, but he doesn’t sound convinced.

I get out of the car and Mr Paterson drives off. I try to open the school gates but they are locked. I don’t know if they lock them to stop people getting in or to stop kids getting out. Luckily after ten minutes it is first break and a teacher comes into the playground and lets me in.

My new friend Clara Dee wants to know why I am late, and wants all the latest news about what’s going on at the Homes. I tell her, and I make it sound as exciting as I can. We go to the spot in the playground where we hang out now, dodging the rampaging boys.

When the bell rings we have to go to separate classes, but we agree to wait for each other in the dinner hall so we can sit together. I feel terrible for a moment, for thinking I hope this excitement continues, as it will mean Clara will still want to be my friend. I know I shouldn’t think this, but sometimes it’s hard when you have been on your own in the playground so often.