(2013) Looks Could Kill Read Free Page B

collecting had gone a long way.  Primary school was the next step.
    Emma’s parents had chosen St Thomas C of E Primary School partly because it was within walking distance of home, but mainly because of the insistence of her grandmother who felt that Emma’s development was missing religious direction. Neither of her parents had any particular religious inclination and they found it easier to follow grandmother’s recommendation than to resist it and suffer the consequences. Grandma decided to accompany Emma for the interview.
    The school was made of red brick and there was a large, ornate crucifix hanging on a wall in the hallway. Emma was wearing her favourite blue dress and had her hair in a ponytail. When Emma went in for her interview, there were two kind looking ladies on the other side of a desk and they both wore a funny hat which Emma thought looked a bit like a sail.
    “Well, hello, young lady,” said one of the ladies, “you must be Emma.”
    “I’m very pleased to meet you, miss,” said Emma.
    “And you must be her mother,” said the other lady, looking at her grandmother.
    “Goodness no, I’m Emma’s grandmother,” she said. “I thought it would be helpful for Emma as I’m a churchwarden. And anyway, Emma’s mother isn’t feeling too good today.”
    “But there’s nothing wrong with m…” Emma tried to say, not believing that Grandma had fibbed.
    “Emma, don’t speak until you’re spoken to!” interrupted her grandmother.
    “Well, it is a bit unusual for a parent not to be present at the interview,” said the second lady, turning to look at her colleague, “but I think we can make an exception on this occasion. And of course, we are delighted to hear that she is a child of God.” The two ladies smiled at each other in a horribly smug, self-satisfied way.
    “So, tell me, Emma, can you tell us what your favourite subjects are?” asked the first lady.
    “Well, I really like biology. I especially like butterflies, I think they’re beautiful.”
    “And what would you like to be when you’re grown up?” asked the second lady.
    “I want to be a doctor like my daddy,” said Emma.
    “I think she means a nurse,” said Grandma, butting in.
    “No, I want to be a doctor and look after people like my butterflies,” said Emma, with a certainty that was unusual for a child of her age.
    Emma started at St Thomas C of E just a month after that.
    Emma’s first experience of the new school was endless repetitions of the Lord’s Prayer, ‘Amens’, saying grace at lunch and daily homilies which she didn’t understand.
    The first hurdle in Emma’s quest for further education started in a biology class.
    “Now, everyone, we’re going to talk about animals and why we like them. Who wants to start?” asked Miss Berry, the biology teacher.
    “Please, miss. Please, miss,” said Emma, waving her hand in the air.
    “Yes, Emma, what’s your favourite animal?”
    “Butterflies, miss; I think their wings are really beautiful,” said Emma.
    “Very good, Emma, and we know that butterflies were created by the good Lord because he wanted us to be surrounded by beautiful things. Isn’t that right, children?”
    Responses were mainly “Yes, miss” but Emma thought otherwise and put her hand up again.
    “Yes, Emma, what would you like to say?”
    “Well, miss, Mrs Brown said that butterflies happened because of something called natural selection and that their beautiful wings were to improve their chance of mating.”
    “Did she really…” Miss Berry started saying, but she rapidly got drowned out by other children asking such things as: “What’s mating?”; “Do butterflies have willies?”; and so on.
    The class rapidly degenerated into the sort of chaos that must have existed when the first insect crawled out of the primordial soup. As the presumed ringleader, Emma was taken to the headmistress’s office to explain herself.
    The headmistress looked at Emma very sternly from