Joanna sat hugging her knees beside the Malago, the shallow stream that ran at the bottom of the expanse and disappeared into a culvert in St John’s Lane. Never had she felt so miserable. Paul tried to cheer her up but to no avail. Disappointed that he had failed to move her, Paul got to his feet. ‘I’m off with Lenny Scott to see if we can find any conkers. Want to come?’ She shook her head. The reflection of the sky on the water made her think of heaven. Hopefully there was a special one for cats where there were no dogs and Lottie would be fed cream and kippers. She hadn’t tasted cream herself for a very long time, though she had eaten the occasional kipper. ‘I’ve got a kipper for you,’ Mrs Allen from next door had said to Joanna that morning as she’d wandered past. Joanna had declined, too upset to eat. Not only was her beloved Lottie no more but her stepmother had accused her of telling tales to ‘that toffee-nosed bitch from your school’. Joanna had denied doing any such thing, but had earned a smack around the back of her head all the same.
