The pug-faced Elizabeth woman came to see me again for an hour this morning, asking me questions. I presume she’s ‘assessing’ me. For some reason I felt the urge to blank her. I wanted to go back to being that kid who came here all those months ago – the kid who ignored everybody and refused to speak. Sometimes it feels safer not to care what anybody else thinks of you, and when she asked me a question I let my face settle into an uninterested sneer.Then I saw the look of horror on Emma’s face. What are you doing? the face said, and I almost gasped out loud at my own stupidity.This is where I want to be. I have to be brave and let them get to the heart of me, perhaps a place where nobody has been for a long time. Except Izzy. And maybe Andy.I’ve started to get jittery since she left. Tom will be here soon, and he should have some news about Andy. If he’s dead that will be something else that’s my fault. He shouldn’t have protected me. He should have let them get me. It would have saved Emma a lot of pain, that’s for sure.The doorbell rings and Emma runs, almost skidding on the wooden hall floor, to answer the door.‘Ollie,’ she cries, and I hear a chuckle from Ollie and a shout of ‘Mummy’ followed by a disgruntled ‘Ay’.
