Mummy's Little Helper Read Online Free PDF Page B

distraction for the poor child. ‘We’ve been looking forward to seeing this all week.’
    And it was good, too, except I kept getting distracted by Abby who, though her eyes were on the television, seemed in some sort of trance, and continued to play constantly with her hair. As I kept glancing at her, I realised she was no longer playing with a lock of hair, but with single strands, which she’d carefully separate out, using both hands, then wind around her index finger, as you might roll cotton around a pencil, then, with a tiny jerk, pull from her head.
    Again and again this would happen – it was almost ceaseless. She’d get hold of a strand of hair, spool it slowly up, then – tug – she’d have freed it, whereupon she’d uncoil it and then let it spring free from her finger. Even at a distance of several feet across the room, I could see a tiny nest of hairs growing on the chair arm. And even with the experience of many deeply distressed children, I could see I was dealing with something different here. John had alluded to ‘behaviours’, but this was new territory. I would definitely have to read up on what we might potentially be dealing with. And definitely not forget about that sandwich.

Chapter 4
    John called at nine, as he’d promised he would the night before, for an update on how things had gone. But it was John, not me, who had the most to say in terms of updating, having just returned to his office from a further trip to Abby’s home.
    In the next few days, assuming Abby’s mum remained in hospital, she’d be allocated to a health-care team, who’d take charge of things at home for her, but as a stop-gap it had fallen to Bridget. So John had gone and met her there first thing. Abby’s mum, who was apparently called Sarah, had been anxious about the place being empty, and had requested that she go back to check things, make sure the heating had been set to low, and that the windows were all locked, as well as to collect a list of further items for Abby – school books and footwear and her winter coat and so on – none of which, in the rush, she’d had time to take with her, and about which both mother and daughter had been fretting.
    ‘So it made sense for me to take them,’ John explained. ‘Since I’d be the next one stopping by at yours. So I’ll bring them up when I come to you next week. And I am so glad I did go, I can tell you, because it’s given me a really useful insight. Just incredible. You’d have to see it to believe it, trust me. It’s told us volumes in terms of how these two have been living. It’s no wonder they were under the radar. Honestly, Casey, if an alien came to earth on a reconnaissance mission, they’d have everything they needed in that one house alone. There is an instruction for absolutely
everything
. Anyway, first up, how has Abby been overnight? Okay?’
    I told him about the hair pulling, and that it was something I’d keep an eye on, but reassured him that, all things considered, she’d been fine. She’d been fast asleep the couple of times I’d gone in and checked on her, and had woken looking marginally less traumatised at least. Though not for long – not once she’d remembered about school.
    A taxi had been organised the day before, to take her, and had arrived promptly at eight, its exhaust billowing white in the cold air. It had struck me as a little odd that she’d be going to school at all, but, as Bridget had pointed out, it was important that Abby had at least some normality to cling on to. Besides, it was a special day – it was Abby’s class assembly, which was as good a reason as any not to miss it.
    But, despite apparently accepting this at the hospital the day before, she’d been upset by its arrival, when the reality of actually going to school sunk in. Not because she was anxious about being there, particularly, but because she was so anxious about her mother’s welfare. ‘But what about Mummy’s breakfast?’