The Lost Child by Ann Troup Read Free Book Online

doesn’t work like that. It makes them notice you. I’m a hoodie, I scare people. If you want to hide something, you have to put it in plain sight. If you’re not bothered by it, other people won’t be either.’
    Elaine had to stifle an indignant laugh, ‘When did you get to be so wise, kiddo?’
    Brodie shrugged again. ‘When I realised that all these shenanigans are a bit fucking pointless.’
    Elaine raised her eyebrows, ‘Nice language,’ she said censoriously.
    ‘Well, sorry but it’s true.’ Brodie raised a hand and pointed a grubby finger at Elaine’s neck. ‘You wear that scarf thinking that people won’t notice your scar, but the fact that you keep touching the bloody thing every two seconds gives it away. We’re all wondering what’s underneath.’
    ‘Do I?’ Elaine asked. Her hand reached up again as if it had received a curtain call.
    ‘All the bloody time! Look at you.’
    Suddenly self-conscious, Elaine rammed her hands into her pockets. The urge to check the scarf was immense.
    This girl was right. Elaine knew it, she had always known it, but didn’t know how else to be. ‘So why do you keep dressing like that if you know why you’re doing it and it doesn’t work?’ she said in a desperate attempt to flip the attention elsewhere.
    Brodie mirrored her by putting her own hands in her baggy pockets. ‘Because my mum’s on benefits and we can’t afford new ones.’ she said bluntly.
    ‘Right, then we’ll go into town tomorrow and I’ll buy you a whole new wardrobe.’ Elaine slapped the gauntlet down, challenging the girl to beat her and assuming that age would trump gumption. It didn’t work.
    Brodie rolled her eyes. ‘Nice one, lovely. That’ll work. Perhaps we can buy a few new scarves while we’re at it.’
    Elaine folded her arms, ‘Oh, I see, like that is it?’ She leaned her weight on one hip and regarded Brodie with a mixture of amusement, affront and a tiny bit of admiration.
    Brodie’s thin face broke into a sly smirk. ‘Yep. It is,’ she said. Her tongue was literally in her cheek. ‘Anyway, I like being scary. What’s your excuse?’
    Elaine sighed, her indignation deflating like a tired balloon. ‘I’m a creature of habit, warts and all. Come on, Miriam will be wondering where you are and I’ve got things to do.’
    They walked on, Brodie skipping ahead and kicking at loose stones. She danced around like a drunken football fan, reeling and rolling as she played in the dirt. Elaine envied her the freedom and her youth. Sometimes Elaine felt that she had been born old, like Benjamin Button, except she didn’t get to do the getting younger thing.
    At Miriam’s gate they paused and Brodie turned to Elaine, ‘Are you really going to buy me something tomorrow?’ she asked with a sly smile, ‘Only there’s a really nice hoodie in the Animal shop. They do scarves too.’ she added, her tone turning hopeful.
    Elaine laughed and slowly shook her head from side to side, a look of wry amusement on her face. ‘We’ll see, you cheeky little mare’.
    Brodie beamed at her, and like lightning planted a feathery kiss on her cheek before vaulting over the gate and disappearing into the cottage.
    Elaine stared after her for a moment. The infinitesimal weight of the kiss tingled on her cheek like the sting of a tiny, invisible tattoo. She reached up and touched the place where it sat and realised that she was smiling.
    *
    Alone in the cottage, all thoughts of the tasks Elaine had in mind disintegrated. Burned by unimportance, they fluttered away like ashes on the wind and she was left wondering what to do with herself. Brodie’s observations had made her brave and she took the decision to go upstairs and establish what all the fuss was about.
    In front of a black pocked mirror in the bathroom she unwound the scarf and looked, for the first time in a long time, at the ragged scar that punctuated her skin like a Rubicon of angry lava. It ran from the left side of her neck