The next day we are out of milk at the cottage. ‘Go and get us some from the shop,’ says Cook, giving me the money.
‘Want to come with me, Eldrey?’ I say. ‘I’m off out to get some milk.’
‘Nuh,’ she says.
I think a month ago she would have come with me. A week ago I would have had three of them with me. They must think I’m back to normal now. I’m not, but there’s only so long they can be that nice to me. And the adults seem to have stopped making us go everywhere in pairs. They used to shout at us if they saw us on our own, but now they seem to have given up.
I walk along Faith Avenue and I see a black car coming towards me. It’s flash, very shiny. I stop to look; so do other children. We don’t get too many cars down these roads and we definitely don’t get cars as nice as this.
I look to see who’s driving, but they have a hat on and I can’t quite see the face. I watch it go past then turn back and cross into Church Road.
As I do I suddenly spot Mr Sharples in front of me. He’s carrying a large sack on his shoulder. He’s seen me, and he’s seen me watching the car.
I take a short breath.
‘Hey, you,’ he says.
I try to look away.
‘No, you, I wanna word wi’ you.’
I feel scared. He puts the sack down and walks towards me. ‘You’re the one that’s been talking to the polis, right?’
I look at the ground.
‘You think I had somethin’ to do with those deid girls, right?’
I look up at him this time and nod, then back down again.
‘You think I’m a weirdy, don’t you? Think I’m a bit strange?’
I don’t respond to this.
‘Look at me.’
I look up again.
‘Aye, so you do. I might be a bit different, and I’m no so good with people, but I didnae have nothing to do with them lassies, see?’
I nod vigorously.
‘So dinnae go tellin’ people that I did, cos I didnae.’
I nod again.
‘On you go.’
A cold pulse goes down my back. I know I’m supposed to go get milk but instead I just turn round and run back to the cottage. I go straight to my bedroom and dive onto my bed.
Eldrey is in there with Shona.
‘Whit is it?’ she asks.
‘Nuthin’.’
‘You sure?’
‘Aye.’
They leave the room.
Five minutes later, Cook comes in.
‘Where’s my milk?’ she says.
‘They ran out.’
‘Ran out, eh? Could you no have told us, no?’
‘Sorry.’
And I am sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything to the police, I had no proof. I need proof.