Lullaby Girl Read Free Page B

before. Iss the room with the glass roof. My legs are shakin’. I should jus’ go upstairs. But the glass room is callin’ me. I remember the tree, an’ decide I need to look at it.
    I stand up, put my head down, an’ walk quickly at the light. Someone laughs, from somewhere.
    ‘Hey Katty, gizza song!’
    Other voices. I feel eyes on me. Then the doorway comes up, an’ I’m through it. Away. Under the glass. No one is out here. Jus’ me. I breathe an’ feel much better. Thur’s tables an’ chairs, like the dinin’ room. I walk right forward, to the end of the room, an’ sit down. Here, I can’t see into the dinin’ room, an’ they can’t see me. The tree is right through the glass. Iss like I’m outside, without Rhona. But it doesn’t feel scary. Iss lovely.
    ‘Katherine,’ I say, quietly. Testin’ my voice out, an’ that word. The name that I know is mine now. Katherine. Kathy. Katty. All three of ’em are inside me. It feels funny to have so many. Rhona said the people over the fence made up lots of ’em. She said they know I’m Katherine now, but they’re hangin’ on to the names they made up. Lullaby Girl. Lock-oss-ki Girl. Viking Girl. An’ more I can’t remember. Rhona says they like Lullaby Girl best.
    Outside, the moor fills most of the window. Iss greyish purple, runnin’ all the way down to the sea. I can see for miles. Past the perimeter fence. Across to the dark-brown mountains. Wind blasts the heather. Clouds the size of countries cross the sky.
    Jus’ then, somethin’ twists against the purple, an’ a thin shape unfolds from the ground. I jump an’ move back. Iss her! The quiet girl. She hasn’t seen me yet, cos her eyes are pointed down. She walks forwards, gettin’ battered by the wind.
    Rhona said the girl’s called Mary, an’ that she doesn’t talk at all. She used to talk, long ago, but some bad stuff happened, an’ after that she jus’ stopped. Her mum an’ dad stuck her in here, but they never come to visit. Poor Mary Rhona always says. She says her dad’s a priest.
    Mary’s reached the gravel now. Her eyes come up, towards the glass room, an’ without thinkin’ I take a step back. Mary’s eyes go straight to me. I gasp. Both of us go still.
    For a second, nothin’. I don’t move an’ neither does she. Wind makes her hair whirl round. I can see her face better from here, an’ she looks real sad. We look at each other some more. Then she lifts her hand. Sends a tiny wave.
    I wave back.
    A big whoosh hits the window, an’ thur’s a splat above my head. I look up. The tree’s dumped a clump of leaves. Narrow. Silv’ry brown.
    I look back at the gravel, but Mary’s gone. Rain starts pattin’ down. Soft at first. Then the clouds come down low, so I can’t see the moor any more, an’ the roof comes alive with noise.
    I sit where I am, lookin’ up. It feels great to be out here without gettin’ wet. Like I’m cheatin’. The clouds get lower an’ blacker. When I can’t see the moor any more, I come inside. The dinin’ room is dark, an’ thur’s no one in it.
    Iss taken me a while to find my way round the house. Even now, I don’t always remember where stuff is. I’ll walk left at the bottom of the stairs instead of right, an’ end up down the wrong corridor, or in the toilet instead of the dinin’ room. Usually this happens in the mornin’, when my head’s still fuzzy. Rhona’s office is easiest to find, along the long, straight corridor that’s painted blue. The blue corridor’s where all the important rooms are. Rhona’s office, Joyce’s office, Mrs Laird’s office an’ private sittin’ room … When that doctor lady came here, she sat with me in Joyce’s office. I didn’t like it in there. It was the wrong colour, an’ it smelled funny. Caroline doesn’t have an office. I sometimes think she might be mad about that. But the computer room’s sort of hers. I’ve never seen any other staff in there.
    I walk through the hall