Page 37 of The Secret We Keep
If I survive.
I scramble to the top of the hill at the halfway point, overlooking more fields scattered with purple heather and bracken as far as the eye can see. It makes me pause, hands on my hips as I steady my breathing. Jesus, I’m out of practice.
Deciding I need to slow down before I go into cardiac arrest, I walk most of the way back towards the village, crossing the cattle grid and heading back home.
Just as I consider breaking into a run again, my heart leaps to my throat, and my feet stop. “Shit.”
A little girl looks up at me from her seat in the bus shelter. I can’t say I’ve spent any time around a child this young, but judging by her height, the red, unlaced Converse and the heavy-looking backpack, I’d say she’s too young to be out here alone.
She stares at me with wide, wondrous eyes. “Are you okay, lady?” She clearly isn’t shy.
For a moment, I don’t say anything, taken aback by the curious way she looks at me. I can suddenly see myself sitting here when I was younger.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She hops down off the seat, tying a hand knitted cardigan around her waist. “You didn’t. I was just waiting for the next bus.”
“On your own?”
The little girl shrugs. “I do everything on my own.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a jar covered in stickers and glitter. She holds it out to me. “You owe me a quid.”
I stare at her, perplexed. “For what?”
“For swearing. Every swear word means a pound goes in the jar.”
I have never seen this girl, but I’m not about to laugh in her face when I notice the jar is empty. “I don’t have any money on me.” I tap the sides of my legs, indicating no pockets.
Stowing the jar away, the little girl loops the straps of her bag over her shoulders. “You can write me one of those… What do you call them?”
“An ‘IOU’?” I reply, eyebrows lifting in amusement.
She clicks her fingers. “Yep. One of those things.”
I nod, feeling like I should, but she doesn’t look at me because she’s suddenly inspecting the bus timetable closely.
“This thing sucks.” She taps the board, peeking up at me, and I give her a small smile like I’m caught in a whirlwind.
“Village this far out, you’re lucky if one comes at all.”
She checks the pink watch strapped around her wrist. It’s tattered and frayed like it’s seen better days. “Crap sticks.”
I can’t stop the widening of my eyes at the little girl’s maturity. And the fact she just swore. “Don’t you need to put a pound in the jar?”
She shakes her head dramatically. “Oh, no. I don’t have to pay.”
Whatever weight I was carrying first thing this morning, feels lighter listening to her speak with so much confidence. “Want me to walk you down to the shop?” I ask. “Maybe someone there can help you out with the bus timetable.”
“Nah, I’m okay. I’ll head back to my… to my aunt’s.” She steps out from the bus stop and starts heading down the hill.
I begin walking after her.
“You’re not following me, are you?”
An amused smile tugs my lips. “No. I live down there.” I point in the direction we’re both headed.
“Okay,” she says uncertain, but gives me a nod of her head. “But just so you know, I know Brazilian Ju-Jitsu. I’m pretty good at standing up for myself. This one time, Olly Jenkins—this kid in my class—he tried taking me down, but I was too fast. I got him in a scarf hold, made him cry. Still, to this day, he never sees it coming. It’s kinda become my signature move.”
“A scarf hold?” I question, this little firecracker of a kid completely surprising me.
