I get back to Cottage 5. I need to speak to Mrs Paterson. I need to tell her that we are in trouble.
She’s talking to some of the bigger girls, telling them off for something one of the girls has done in their bedroom and how all of them will be held responsible. The girls look like they just want the telling off to end, but Mrs Paterson keeps going. I can’t wait much longer.
Eventually she ends with: ‘So if you do that again, there is going to be serious trouble, do you understand?’ The older girls’ shoulders relax as they realise it is finally over and not that serious. At least Mr Paterson hasn’t been involved.
As soon as Mrs Paterson is finished, I run up to her.
‘Miss, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.’
‘Can it wait, Lesley? I need to get some things for the house right now.’
I can tell she is starting to tire of me, how much work I am since Jonesy died. I can see it in her expression; when she turned around and saw it was me her smile faded a little. But I need to really stress how much danger we are in, and for her to take me seriously. I am done with not having adults listen to me, or pretending they are listening to me then ignoring what I say.
‘No, miss, this cannae wait, I need your help, I need it now.’
She looks at me and I can tell she’s thinking, Is this another one of her stupid wee ideas or is this something genuinely important I have to listen to?
I stare at her. I try to put on my most serious face so she knows I’m not messing.
We are by the front door and suddenly I see through one of the glass panels that the Superintendent is walking towards the cottage. He looks really angry. I know he’s coming for me, or to tell the Patersons what I just accused him of.
‘Quick!’ I say. ‘He’s coming!’ and I grab Mrs Paterson’s arm and drag her through the kitchen and out the back door just as I hear three loud bangs on the front door.
‘Wait! Stop! Who’s coming?’ she asks.
‘Mr Gordon, miss, he’s coming for me.’
‘What? Why is he coming for you? Why are we running?’
We go around the side of the house and I can hear the front door being opened and the Super shouting, ‘WHERE ARE THE PATERSONS?’
‘Quick, follow me,’ I say, and I’m pleased that she comes with me without asking any more questions. We scuttle across the green, towards the church. Soon we are out of sight of the cottage. Mrs Paterson is breathing heavily, and we slow down to a walk when we get into the woods.
‘What is going on, Lesley? What have you got me doing?’
I stop. We’re near where Jane’s body was found. I stand by a tree and put my arm against it to compose myself.
‘Miss, I think it’s him. I think Mr Gordon is the murderer. He can go everywhere, he can steer the polis in the wrong direction, he’s got access to every cottage, he hates us kids, he could be seen with anyone and it no be suspicious, he’s made Eadie disappear. Has he killed her? No one seems to be able to tell me where she is.
‘I went to see him about Eadie but then I started to go on about how no one is doing anything and it clicked, and I told him I think it was him that killed the girls, and that’s why he’s come to the house because he knows I’m right and he’s gonnae try to do me in, miss! And you’re no safe either as he might think that I’ve told you and then he’ll have to get rid of you too. Miss, it was him all along! He was the bastard who killed Jonesy and I’m no safe in the house any more as he knows where I sleep and I can’t tell Detective Walker as he doesnae trust me any more as I got those other people wrong and no one is gonnae stop him and I’m gonnae be the next one deid.’
My brain is working so fast I’m not sure I’m making sense, but I can’t seem to stop.
‘But why would the Super kill Eadie? Whit’s she ever done to anyone but help them, and why would he kill Jonesy? Or Jane or Sally? I cannae tell the polis. Mibbie you should tell the polis, mibbie they will listen to you. Will you tell Mr Paterson? He could help us; he could drive us somewhere. Could you drive me to the Andersons? They could look after me … Or my mum, you could tell her I’m sorry … Or my gran, she’s better – can we call my gran? She could come get me and look after me for a while, just a while, I promise I’ll come back when it’s safe. I won’t run away, I promise, miss … miss … I just need help to get away.’
I can’t seem to breathe properly. I am trying but I can’t seem to get any air into my lungs and I’m dizzy and my face feels fuzzy like it’s electric.
Mrs Paterson is looking at me. She is bent down and she is looking directly into my eyes and she is saying something but it is slurred, her words are slow.
Why are her words so slow … my lips are tingling … and … I can’t …