LLB. Solicitor.
It seems to reassure the teaching assistant. Even though perhaps it shouldnât.
âLetâs go,â I say. âWeâll get a cab to the hospital. Want me to drop you off somewhere?â
She declines, although the offer seems to appease her further.
It occurs to me that it would be very easy to take a child if the circumstances were favourable.
âMy nameâs Lily,â I say after the woman has gone and Iâve slipped a note under the door of number 7 to tell Carlaâs mother what has happened. âYou know you shouldnât really talk to strangers.â
âCharlie said it was all right.â
âWhoâs Charlie?â
She brings out a green pencil case from under her jumper.
How sweet! I had a wooden one when I was at school, with a secret drawer for the rubber.
âWhat happened to your eye exactly?â
The child looks away. âIt was a mistake. He didnât mean it to happen.â
âWho made a mistake, poppet?â
But even as I ask the question, I hear voices.
The jury made a mistake
, Joe Thomas had said.
Thereâs got to be a mistake
, my mother had sobbed when we found Daniel.
Is this a mistake?
Iâd asked myself as Iâd walked down the aisle.
No more mistakes, I say to myself, as I take Carla into our flat to call the local taxi firm.
From now on, Iâve got to be good.
6
Carla
âWho made a mistake, poppet?â said Lily with the golden hair as they went into number 3. Her voice was very clear. Like one of those actresses on television. Posh, Mamma would have called it.
âKevin. A boy in my class. He threw a ball at me.â
Carla nuzzled Charlieâs fur. It felt warm and cosy against her skin. She glanced around the flat. It was the same shape as theirs but there were more pictures on the walls. Untidier, too, with pieces of paper on the kitchen table and a pair of brown shoes underneath, suggesting that someone had forgotten them. They looked like they belonged to a man, with those thick soles and laces. Shoes, Mamma always said, were one of the most important weapons in a womanâs wardrobe. When Carla said she didnât understand, Mamma just laughed.
âIf your mother isnât at work, where do you think she might be?â
Carla shrugged. âMaybe with Larry, her friend. Sometimes he takes her out for lunch near the shop. She sells nice things to make women beautiful.â
âAnd where is this shop?â
âA place called Night Bridge.â
There was a smile as if sheâd said something funny. âDo you mean Knightsbridge?â
â
Non lo so
.â When she was tired, she always lapsed into Italian, even though she tried to make Mamma speak English at home.
âWell, weâve left her a note to say where we are. The taxi will be here in a minute.â
Carla was still stroking the soft green fur. âCan Charlie come too?â
âOf course it can.â
â
He
can. Charlieâs a he.â
The woman smiled. âThatâs nice.â
See
, whispered Charlie.
Told you weâd find a way
.
They were nice to her at the hospital. One of the smiley nurses gave her a barley sugar that stuck to the roof of her mouth. Carla had to put her finger in to poke it out. Mamma didnât allow her to have sweets at home unless Larry gave them to her. They made you fat like cakes and then you wouldnât get a boyfriend to pay the rent.
She hoped the golden-haired woman wouldnât tell.
âThink of something nice and it wonât hurt as much,â her new friend said, holding her hand as the nurse put something stingy on her eyebrow.
So Carla thought of her new friendâs name. Lily! So pretty! When Larry came to visit, he sometimes brought lilies. Once, her mother and Larry had danced so hard when she was in bed that the lilies fell on to the ground and stained the carpet bright yellow. When sheâd come out to see what
Marc Paoletti, Chris Lacher