Endangering Innocents Read Online Free PDF Page B

stick.”
    The two women exchanged glances. Joanna sensed their reluctance.
    “Let me know if he comes back.”
    They were interrupted by a knock on the door.
    A face peered round. Middle-aged woman, face too heavily powdered. “Sorry - didn’t know you were with someone.” It vanished again.
    Joanna left her direct telephone number and moved to go. But was snagged back, bothered by something. “Tell me one thing,” she said. “The little girl with the straight bobbed hair. Funny little round face. She was sitting towards the front of the class and was very quiet. What can you tell me about her?”
    Vicky Salisbury answered for both teachers. “You mean Madeline Wiltshaw at a guess. She’s a strange little girl. Hardly speaks at all. We’ve even wondered whether she might be autistic. She seems to have problems communicating. And not just with us. With the other children too. Plays all alone most of the time however hard I try to encourage her to join in - and to get the other children to include her.”
    “Her home life? I saw someone …”
    “Mum and stepdad,” Vicky said. “Or really Mum and Mum’s partner. Like lots of the children. An extended family. They seem OK.”
    “I assume it was her mum’s partner who met her today from school? Quite a big, beefy man. Number one haircut. Blond, I think.”
    “I didn’t see. But it sounds like him. Why do you ask?”
    “Oh - nothing. Thanks.” Joanna shook hands with both teachers, paused on her way out. “Look - please - ifyou do have further concerns let me know. We …” she hesitated, wanting to choose her words carefully. She didn’t want to alarm them. This was maybe something, hopefully nothing. They would enter the details on the PNC. The incident would melt away but be recorded. “We do take any sort of harassment seriously. If you see the blue van here again ring us. We’ll come straight out.”
    Both teachers looked reassured.
    They were halfway along a peach-washed corridor gaily decorated with children’s paintings. All brightly coloured. Almost all very unskilled. Huge eyes, stick legs, heads balanced on triangular bodies without necks. Dishmop hair assorted colours. Yellow, brown, red, blue, purple.
    Further along the wall featured an Easter theme: bunnies, ducks and decorated eggs.
    “Excuse me.”
    The woman who had briefly interrupted their final chat was slightly short of breath from hurrying to catch up with them. They waited for her.
    “You let me down,” she accused Joanna angrily.
    “I beg your pardon.”
    “You don’t even remember me, do you?”
    Joanna was too taken aback to say anything.
    “I’m Gloria. Gloria Parsons. We met. It was only yesterday. At the christening?”
    Now she did remember her. It had only taken a small prompt. “Sorry. Sorry.”
    The woman brushed her apology aside. “Please don’t.” She held her hand up. “People often don’t remember me. No it wasn’t that. I don’t mind that. But I wanted you to help. And you didn’t.”
    Again Joanna apologised. “I’m sorry.”
    “I rang the social workers.” Gloria’s face was red. “Justan answer phone. And no one’s called me back. I’ve had my mobile switched on all day. It’s just soft-soaping.”
    “Look, I’m sorry.” Joanna was confused.
    Gloria Parsons’ lips tightened. “It’s OK,” she said. “Don’t worry. I expect …”
    And she hurried off.
    They looked at each other. Mike spoke first. “What a weirdo. What did she want?”
    Joanna stared after her. “A child she suspected was being ill-treated.”
    And Korpanski, it seemed, agreed with her viewpoint. “Oh - that old can of worms.”
     
    They were back at the station by four-thirty and spent the next hour and a half recording the incident on the PNC until Joanna glanced through the window. The light was almost gone. “I’d better head off,” she said. “It’s getting late and I’m on my bike. I’ll see you in the morning, Mike.”
    She pedalled slowly back