Sleepwalkers Read Online Free PDF

mate. After you.’

TWO
    Anna Price’s car suffered from an annoying squeal thanks to an anonymous driver who had pranged it in the night while it was harmlessly parked outside her house. People would often glance at her as it passed, and Anna would wince and swear under her breath, desperately hoping no one could lip-read. As she screeched towards Saint Thomas’ comprehensive school on an ordinary Tuesday morning, a prickly red rash crept up her throat and she tried to conquer her nerves. She’d worked there for two years, but it wasn’t getting any easier. She could cope with the younger children, but the boys and girls at the top of the school saw her as easy meat.
    Anna liked to get to school early. Normally it would just be her and the caretaker. This way she could prepare, avoid the arriving children and their big-mouthed parents, and keep things under control. But on this day she was late and the books on the back seat slid and fell as she made a sharp turn. Serious voices on the radio debated the news, but Anna’s mind was busy plotting suitably sneering comebacks to Ralph Lorrison and his cohorts. Such phrases didn’t come easily.
    By the time she reached the school her spot in the car park had – inevitably – been taken. She found another, squeezed her car into a small space next to the scary Mr Downside (PE) and then fretted that it was too close to the kids. Indeed, just as she pulled the key from the ignition, the car was bumped by three sixth-form girls who sashayed carelessly past. Anna watched them, invisible inside the car: three long-haired sixteen-yearolds, more women than girls, wearing short skirts. They joked and laughed theatrically for the boys to see, cocooned within their ignorant, blissful adolescence. Anna envied them their confidence as they waltzed on, vacuous and happy.
    She entered the school a few minutes later, with books piled high and a take-away styrofoam coffee perched on top. Burly boys with acne and aggressive haircuts marched past her. As she got to the bottom of the stairs (the staffroom was on the first floor) she was knocked by two shouty kids and some of the coffee spilled onto her cream blouse. She turned to reprimand them, but they were already gone, their voices echoing down the corridor.
Wanker, twat, mofo, gay boy
 …
    She retreated to the staff toilets. The door scraped as it opened and closed. Anna unbuttoned her blouse and tried to soak the stain in the sink. It didn’t seem to help. In fact she was just making a larger, lighter-brown stain, but she knew that her cardigan would at least hide the worst. She caught herself briefly in the mirror, saw her utilitarian bra, her slender frame, her freckled shoulders. She wore little make-up and simple, plain jewellery. Anna would often try more fancy things in the shops, but they never felt like her. She’d return them, self-conscious, to the shop assistant and wonder why she’d been drawn to them in the first place. She was in her early thirtiesnow and felt she should know better. As she looked down and dabbed away at the blouse, she heard the scuffle of feet in one of the cubicles.
    She turned, mortified, grabbing the blouse to protect her modesty. But then saw the scuffed black shoes beneath the door and realised that it wasn’t a teacher hidden inside but a pupil. Emboldened, she called out.
    ‘Who’s that in there?’
    The feet shuffled but no one replied.
    ‘Come on, these toilets are for teachers only. Come out, please.’
    She both liked and hated the teacher’s voice she used. She liked it because it didn’t sound like her with its confident tone that she wished was permanent; hated it because she hated any kind of performance.
    The lock clicked, the door opened and a schoolboy stepped out. He was holding a pair of wet trousers even though he was fully clothed. Fifteen years old, he was a gaunt, wiry boy with an eager, open face that made adults like him and children bully him. His name was Toby