51

The child came to him. The Traveller simply stood and watched her approach from his position behind the curved wall. All the time she had sat eating her sweets with the big cop opposite her, she kept looking the Traveller’s way. More than once he found himself unable to return her stare, her eyes so bright and knowing. Like she could see the ugly things in his head, swirling and snapping at one another.

And here she came, her doll hanging loose by her side. The naked plastic body made echoes of some buried memory sound behind his eyes. He blinked them away, and a burst of pain like hot needles forced his teeth together.

‘Hello,’ she said. ‘What do you want?’

The Traveller stared down at her, unsure how to answer the question. He looked back towards the cop who turned in a circle, horror breaking on his face.

‘Do you know Gerry?’ the girl asked.

The Traveller licked his upper lip. ‘Yeah,’ he said. He took her hand. ‘Come on.’

They were halfway down the curving flight of stairs, ducking between patients and staff, when a voice called, ‘Ellen.’ It was weak, frightened. If the child heard, she didn’t react.

The Traveller quickened his step, the girl dragging on his hand. ‘This way,’ he said as they reached the ground floor. The Quiet Room stood to their right, facing the shop he’d watched them in a few minutes before.

‘Ellen!’

Louder now, not quite panic yet, but an angry edge.

The girl resisted, turned to look for the voice that called her name. The Traveller pulled harder. He scanned the shifting crowd for concerned onlookers as they passed the information desk. No one paid attention, so he marched to the Quiet Room, ignored the flare of pain as he shouldered the door open. Low lighting, a hush in the air despite the room being empty but for him and the child. The door swung closed, sealing them in.

Ellen tried to pull her fingers away from his, but he held firm. His breath sounded alien in this dim and silent place. He realised he didn’t know what to do next.

Sweat prickled his skin and he swallowed against the dryness in his mouth. The child had come to him, sought him out. Stupid. He’d never been stupid in his life. He couldn’t afford to be. Rash, yes, but never stupid. Not like this. All because the little girl came to him.

A strange and horrible idea burst in his mind. It took hold, bright and unyielding as only the truth can be. He looked down at the child. She smiled back up at him and all doubt was gone.

He had not captured her.

She had captured him.