It therefore required several attempts, and some prompting from Tammy in the form of nods, grunts and pointing, to find my way to the odd little semicircle of houses adjoining its tidal swamp. A half-moon hung amid scudding clouds in a sky pockmarked with glistening stars as I carried the tired child up to the front door. The wind hissed and whispered through the high reeds, and bats dive-bombed insects that clustered around a skeletal tree near the low wall. By the coast, the air was even colder and heavy with mist, and I was anxious to get Tammy, tough nut though she was, out of the elements. She’d had enough adventures for one day – and I knew I had. As I had feared, repeated knocking did not elicit a response. Through a glass panel beside the door I could see a light down what I presumed to be a hallway, but I was painfully aware that this did not mean anyone was at home. Kneeling down, Tammy still under my arm, I called in through the letterbox: ‘Hello, it’s Shane, from Little Scamps – I have Tammy here, and she really could do with getting to bed!’ Deeply frustrated and getting annoyed again, I hammered on the door.
What do You think about The Girl Who Couldn't Smile?
