Page 130 of Child's Play

And if she fell unaware of it for even a few moments she saw it reflected in other people’s eyes. It wasn’t a scar that was satisfied with a fleeting, passing glance. People didn’t look away once seen. They stared and watched it move as she spoke as though it was a living thing. She understood completely the irritation of glamour models when people talked only to their breasts. If she’d been better endowed in that area, she might have tried using them for distraction now and again.

She closed her eyes for a moment, relieved that the event was finally over. It had been tough, emotionally exhausting being around so many people.

In normal life she avoided crowded areas, stayed away from curious eyes and intrusive stares. Easy to do in this day and age. She left her home, drove to the homes of her clients, tutored their children, got back in her car and went home. And there was little she couldn’t buy online.

Except it was getting harder to come here to this event, harder to put herself on open display, but it was something she had to do to satisfy her clients.

And that was what had prompted her to come to this meeting.

Her first response had been to wonder about her attackers but she knew where they were. She always knew where they were. Almost sixteen years on and she still feared that they would come back to finish her off.

But that had been reduced from three fears to two since the oldest had been killed in a gang-related stabbing five years ago. That night she had celebrated not so much out of revenge but that it was one less she had to worry about. One less to search for on the internet. One less to monitor.

The youngest of the three was back behind bars after a string of brutal attacks on young women. Safe for now. And the other was now married with two young children working as a roofer in Stoke.

The first text message had been followed a few minutes later and her fears had been calmed when she’d read:

Sorry, forgot you didn’t have my work number. Matilda has a little present she’d like to give you. Damien.

The message had ended with a smiley face and an eye roll that had instantly made her smile.

Normally she would have refused but once the initial anxiety had passed she’d remembered the conversation with the police inspector. She’d enjoyed talking. She’d actually appreciated the art of conversing with an adult. Sharing her knowledge, her experience and she had been sad to see the woman walk away. Using her training and education to teach young minds one-on-one satisfied part of her needs but she was coming to realise that maybe not all her needs were being met. Adult conversation was one of them, and besides, Matilda was an absolute sweetheart and her father was a kind and caring man.

The sound of a twig cracking snapped her eyelids open.

It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust in the falling dusk but when she did, her mouth fell open at the figure coming towards her.

One Hundred

Kim hurried along the corridors of hotel rooms towards the industrial kitchen at the far end of the hotel. The facility had two kitchens: a smaller one to service the café and restaurant that was on the leisure side of the facility and an industrial space for catering to room service and events.

She held her phone in front of her as she walked, watching the signal bars bounce up and down. The second she lost signal she’d start searching.

The smell and the clatter told her she was drawing near to the dead spot, but her focus was being disturbed by something she’d seen earlier that hadn’t yet registered in her brain.

‘Jesus,’ she cried, as a white clad kitchen worker almost knocked her over while carrying a side of beef.

His look of apology turned to concern. ‘Are you lost?’

She flashed her ID. ‘No, now tell me where this dead spot starts?’

He frowned.

‘Phones,’ she said, holding hers aloft.

He looked down the corridor towards the fire exit door.

‘Starts just past that extinguisher on the wall and carries on out the door and to the edge of the scented garden.’

‘Got it,’ Kim said, hurrying away.

Sure enough the bars stopped dancing completely as she passed the fire extinguisher.

With no further rooms beyond this point she pushed open the fire exit door and headed outside.

Her nostrils were assaulted by a combination of summer blooms. A single ornamental lamp post cast light on to the bench beneath. A quick look around the area told Kim there was no one here.

But had she been? Kim wondered, standing beside the bench.