When She Was Bad Read Online Free PDF

go because I have nothing to go to. Now that Shannon has left home and Johnny and I are long since divorced, this is all I have.
    But the young woman who was introduced by Professor Ed Kowalsky to Child L in that airless room all those years ago was a different person altogether. Not so cynical, and quietly trying my best.
    ‘I’m so glad to meet you, Laurie.’ Bending down so I was on her eye level. Trying not to think about what those eyes had seen.
    So what was it like, that first session? What you really want to know is, how damaged was she?
    The truth is, she presented as a normal four-year-old girl. By turns talkative, then clamming up, shy, then suddenly bursting with life.
    We agreed we wouldn’t ask her any leading questions that first session, just observe and be guided by her, but in the end she brought it up herself. Ed had asked her what games she most liked to play and she smiled and brought her hands up next to her mouth, her little fists clenched with excitement.
    ‘Oooh, hide and seek.’ She did a little skip.
    ‘And where’s your favourite place to hide?’
    ‘In the kitchen, under the table, or in the bedroom closet. Mustn’t hide in the basement. Mustn’t hide there.’ Laurie shook her head forcefully from side to side.
    Ed didn’t look at me, but I could feel it, the tension that entered the room like a cold draught. Debra the social worker wrapped her plump arms around herself.
    ‘Why not the basement, Laurie? What’s in there?’
    I could sense the effort it was costing Ed to keep his voice steady and measured.
    Laurie, who’d been standing facing him, suddenly turned away – and it was a shock to find her eyes fixed on mine.
    ‘It,’ she said. ‘It is in there.’
    After that she didn’t want to talk much.
    ‘She’s tired,’ Debra said, hoisting her canvas bag back on to her broad shoulder.
    I’m embarrassed to admit that after the child left the room, I was light-headed with relief.

7
Paula
     
    The figures were moving across the page like tiny black ants. Paula rubbed her eyes. This always happened when she was tired. Last night was the third in a row where she’d hardly slept. Her sleep had been erratic for months thanks to hideous hot flushes which woke her up in the early hours soaked with sweat – but since Rachel Masters had arrived, her insomnia had got worse. She’d go to bed early then spend hours lying awake fretting about work. The flushes, when they came, were savage – a rush of intense heat that sent her heart rate soaring. She’d fling back the duvet and lie on the sheet feeling like something melting in the sun. Through the paper-thin wall, she could hear the motorcycle-engine sound of Ian’s snoring and she’d wonder again how it was possible to have separated from a man yet still have her sleep destroyed by him night after night.
    At her desk, she tried once again to focus on the printout. It was an invoice that a catering client was disputing. The company had supplied seventeen agency staff to work at a series of functions the catering client was laying on. However, the client said that three of those temporary workers had been sent home early as they hadn’t been up to the job. It happened sometimes. The staff they recruited were generally kids trying to earn money for gap years and university courses. Their hearts weren’t in it.
    On her desk, her mobile vibrated and a text message flashed up.
    Out of bread and OJ. Had to go shop. U owe me £3.50.
    She glanced at the time on her computer screen. 12.50. At least Cam would see daylight today. That was an improvement on yesterday. She remembered how naïve she’d once been, assuming her days of having to worry about her son would be over once he went off to uni. No one had ever warned her that he’d come back after he graduated. Still, at least he’d had some experience of being independent, unlike Amy, who’d messed up her A levels and anyway baulked at the £9,000 a year tuition fees. ‘I’d