Endangering Innocents Read Free

Even if she was only five. That was no excuse. And she was even more frightened of the police than of her mum - or Darren. She bit back her screams.
    She wished as hard as she could that she could find the magician. And she would ask him to make her invisible so she could creep down to the kitchen and find something to eat.
     
    “Have another vol-au-vent.” Sarah was looking pleased with herself.
    “Thanks.” Joanna took a bite and the vol-au-vent collapsed. She picked the crumbs from the floor under Sarah’s critical eye and wondered what would be the earliest opportunity she and Matthew could escape without causing comment.
    Nine o’clock. Every time they had gravitated towards the door another relative would exclaim that they hadn’t met Matthew properly yet. He would turn to them, chat for a while, Joanna hanging on his arm, trying to tug him away. She watched his easy, pleasant face express interest in various cousins and their lives, her aunts’ health and travels … Her mother’s blood pressure problem and the young mums’ neuroses over their children.
    How could he be so interested?
    Someone was standing at her side. Not making any attempt to speak. Just watching her. She could feel eyes appraise her and turned around.
    She was a well, if not expensively, dressed woman in a black suit over a bright pink acetate blouse. The skirt was creased and the woman’s face pale and uncertain. She didn’t know her.
    “Excuse me.”
    The woman’s eyes were pale blue with a touch ofbrown mascara and a clumsy smear of heather-coloured eye shadow. Her hair was faded brown with greying roots and her skin of a papery dry, menopausal texture. She looked about forty-five - and worried.
    “Hello.” Joanna held out her hand. The woman responded with a limp handshake and an abstracted smile. “I’m Joanna. Sarah’s sister.” She gave a self-conscious smile. “Daniel’s godmother.” The phrase sounded alien on her lips. Yet she didn’t dislike it as much as she had thought she would.
    “Gloria,” the woman said. “My husband, Rick. He works with Jeremy. At the office.”
    “Oh.” For the life of her Joanna could not remember Jeremy ever mentioning a “Rick”.
    For a split second it seemed the conversation was at an end. The woman smiled again. “I think. I … Did someone mention you’re in the police force?”
    Joanna nodded. “A detective,” she said. “In Leek.”
    The woman’s shoulder bag was slipping off her right shoulder. She hitched it back up. “Do you mind if I ask your advice?”
    Joanna shot a swift glance at Matthew. Her aunt Jane was pulling up her skirt to display some varicose veins. One of the penalties of being a doctor. Matthew was looking suitably impressed. They would be here for minutes more. She turned back to Gloria. “Not at all. If I can help …”
    “The trouble is I don’t know anything. I just wonder if something could be checked out. If it’s possible, that is.”
    Joanna felt bored. People were always asking her about this point of law - or that. Usually mundane complaints about insurance companies, minor motoring offences, neighbour disputes. Tall trees, wide hedges, noisy dogs. But she smiled to conceal her lack of interest.
    “Go on.”
    “I just wondered - what is the form if you suspect a child is being badly treated?”
    It was like removing the lid from a can of worms. These days a light smack constituted ill-treatment. Tales born by concerned neighbours, being touched “inappropriately” by a teacher, being comforted by a playground assistant. Anything. The real skill lay in sorting out the abused child from the merely disciplined - or cared for. Weeding out the sexual from the innocent.
    “There are channels to pursue. Sensitive experts. The police can appear heavy-handed. Unless there is real concern for the child we prefer Social Services to investigate. A family doctor. Teachers.” She smiled. “Ring me at Leek Police Station if you’re really