Lara crouched down, hunched over her knees, arms wrapped around herself. She’d found the perfect spot: a little clearing under some bushes that faced directly out over Heron Water. It was reasonably dry and when she’d walked along the reservoir path in the rain, the opening had seemed to beckon her: come inside and shelter! She’d nestled in, feeling safe and at peace from the constant nasty comments from Rosie.
—Did you see her on that roundabout? I thought she was dead there was so much blood!—
—Don’t you have any friends, Lara? Only Mia doesn’t count cos she doesn’t have any friends either—
—She’s a murderer. She tried to drown me. You know murderers go to jail. Forever—
Accompanying the constant digs were the sniggers from Rosie’s friends: Bella and Tilly. Miss Young had sat them on the opposite side of the classroom, but it didn’t matter. They all mixed in the playground anyway.
And then that morning in assembly, Lara had been called up for an award. ‘For conquering her fractions.’ She’d got up from the floor where they all sat squeezed together and had to walk through a sea of legs and feet to get to the end of the line in order to make it to the front of the hall where Mr Whitman was holding her certificate. In the middle of the line she’d had to pass Rosie.
Wary, Lara had stepped carefully so as not to catch Rosie’s legs, but the other girl had lifted her knee at the last minute, making Lara stumble. She’d pitched forward, almost falling, her backside up in the air in front of the whole school. She’d gone crimson with embarrassment.
‘Sorry,’ Rosie had said loudly, contritely, which Lara knew was for the benefit of the teachers, and she’d got back up and continued to the front of the hall feeling sick with shame and misery. It had taken all her effort not to cry and she hadn’t dared look at Rosie or her friends while she stood with the other kids, all receiving a round of applause.
When they were back in the classroom, in the melee of returning to their seats, Rosie had whispered in her ear, ‘I think the whole school saw your knickers,’ and Lara had felt utterly crushed again. Her chest was tight with anxiety and she hadn’t been able to concentrate on the English assignment at all and had asked to go to the toilet so she could breathe.
It was on the way back she knew she couldn’t go into the classroom again, she just couldn’t. So she’d got her coat and gone along another corridor that led to the back of the school, and she’d punched in the code that she’d seen the teachers use. They never covered the keypad when they did it. They thought no one was looking or the kids were all too babyish not to watch and remember. As soon as the door opened, she stepped outside.
She ran down the pathway, past the teachers’ cars and out onto the road. The bad weather meant there weren’t many people about, which suited Lara; she avoided the high street and ran down towards the reservoir. After a few minutes she had to stop and walk; she could feel her asthma taking hold and she didn’t have her inhaler. When she reached the cafe she turned left, in the opposite direction to her house, and walked along the path, glancing over at the grey, white-topped water, the rain lashing down. She saw the place where Rosie had fallen in all those months ago and wished Rosie had drowned so she wouldn’t have to deal with her every single day. It was all so final, like switching someone off. Like what had happened to her dad. He’d been playing with her on the beach in the morning. By night-time he was dead. She’d found that hard to comprehend for a very long time.
After another five minutes of walking in the rain, Lara began to feel cold and the mud was getting more slippy away from the stony path. Then she saw the clearing and, relieved, ducked in for shelter.
She didn’t know how long she’d been there but she’d already looked around at the branches and roots and found a place she could sleep and store food and was imagining a cosy den where she’d live and be safe when she heard the rustling of leaves.
She stiffened, not frightened, but cautious. Perhaps it was a badger, come to share her home. Or a fox. Since moving to Ripton, Lara had fallen in love with nature and at times half-imagined herself as a lone wolf, solitary and territorial.
There was a snuffling sound and the animal’s movements got closer. Then all of a sudden, a nose burst through the bushes, followed by a head and two erect ears. It was a dog. Lara was delighted and put her hands out to it. It barked excitedly and she tried to shush it but then she saw its harness and knew it belonged to the police.
A moment later, a uniformed man poked his head into her clearing.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Can you tell me your name?’
Then a woman officer appeared too. Lara’s heart sank.
‘Come on,’ said the woman. ‘You look cold. Fancy a hot chocolate?’
Lara looked at the woman’s outstretched hand. She had no choice really. With one last glance back at her den, she allowed herself to be led away.