‘That lady there,’ she says and points. ‘With the funny, wild hair. The one who looks like a witch.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘She did something to my mummy.’
‘Yes, she did,’ says the man.
‘Where is she?’
None of the grown-ups answer her question. They just stare at each other as if they all have a secret that Helen isn’t supposed to know about.
‘There’s something else I’d like you to do for me,’ he says instead.
Aggie puts her hand on Helen’s shoulder, and this time she doesn’t move away from it. ‘Don’t you think the child has been through enough?’
‘Just one more thing, I promise. It’s important’, he says to Helen. ‘Is there anything else you remember that you haven’t told anyone already? Anything at all?’
‘There was a knife. It was my mummy’s.’
‘We didn’t find any knife. Are you sure?’
Helen nods.
‘O-kay,’ he says. ‘In that case, do you think you can tell me what the knife looks like?’
‘No, but I can make you a picture. I’m good at drawing.’
‘That would be very helpful.’ He smiles and takes a small notepad out of his jacket pocket, and hands it to her with a pen.
She would rather have crayons, but she takes the pen and draws a picture in the notebook. ‘This is gold’—she points—‘and where you hold it, it’s made of swirly blue rocks. They’re called leopards,’ she adds, proud of her own knowledge. ‘A man had it in the olden days. He was a king, but then the commas came and killed him and his family in a forest. It was very sad.’
The policeman just stares at her, and she thinks he must be a little bit stupid.
‘If I may,’ says Aggie, ‘I think I know what the child is referring to. My step-daughter had a pair of paper knives, period pieces with lapis lazuli inlay. Fabergé, I think.’
‘Would you be able to get me their complete specifications?’
‘I should think so. It’s a well-known set, and collectors are often on record.’
Helen can see from the man’s face that what Aggie has said must be important, but she’s getting tired now and wants to go home. ‘Can we go now, Aggie? I want to see Mummy.’
The lady in the red trousers, whom Helen has forgotten all about, is the only one who answers. ‘You need to come with me, darling. I see your granny has brought your bag with you. Have you got all your nice things in there?’
Helen stares at her. What does she mean, go? Go where?
The lady holds out her hand. ‘Come, sweetheart, we’re going to a nice place where there’s lots of other children you can play with.’
Helen shakes her head. ‘I don’t want to play. I want to see Mummy!’
The lady just smiles sadly. ‘I’m sorry, darling, but you can’t see your mummy.’
‘Now!’ Helen stamps her foot. She’s close to tears. Why are they keeping secrets from her? It’s not fair.
Without another word the lady lifts her up and carries her towards the door. Suddenly it hits her, from the look on Aggie’s face, that the bad thing which the policeman talked about happened to Mummy, and that she isn’t coming back.
Mummy is dead.
Furiously she kicks and beats her fists against the lady’s chest, but the lady is strong and doesn’t drop her. Whispering soothing words, she carries her out of the room and down the long corridor, but Helen can only hear herself screaming at the top of her lungs.
‘I want my mummy! I want my mummy!’
Helen woke, disorientated and cold, her body leaden. She’d fallen asleep on top of the covers and realised she’d been crying. With no tissues handy she wiped her face on the bedspread and tried to make sense of her thoughts.
She knew this was a real memory, but she also knew her mind had always had a tendency to fill in the blanks when she tried to focus on it, leaving vital impressions tantalisingly out of reach.
Except this time it had been different. This time she’d pictured herself firmly in that room, tasted the Smarties, felt Aggie’s shaking hand on her shoulder. She had been there, and the sequence of events was probably pretty much as she’d just pictured them. But how could she begin to make sense of it?
Rising early, she met Jason in the kitchen.
‘Rough night?’ he asked when he saw her blotchy face, which no amount of ice cold water had managed to soothe.
‘You could say that.’
He handed her a cup of tea, and gratefully Helen wrapped her hands around it, allowing the warmth from the mug to quieten her nerves.
‘You know, I’m here if you want to talk,’ he said.