The Little One [Quick Read 2012] by Lynda La Plante

closer to the studios. It was about this time of year and I would often come out here for weekends.
The weekend it happened, I decided not to drive down as it was snowing. Instead I invited Julia and Emily up to London.’
    Margaret rose and sat opposite Barbara at the table. She drew the Bible close to her and turned to the first page, where her sister’s name was written. Beside the name was a dark brown
stain.
    ‘This is Julia’s blood,’ she whispered. ‘Now I want you to lay your hand over the cross.’
    When Barbara did so, she could feel it beneath her palm.
    ‘You must swear never to repeat what I’m going to tell you.’
    ‘Yes, I do. I do.’
    ‘No, I want you to say it.’
    Barbara didn’t give a toss about swearing on the Bible. She was not remotely religious and hadn’t been to church since she was a child. But as she waited for Margaret’s
instructions, the handle on the kitchen door rattled. Then it turned, as if someone was trying to get in.
    Margaret sprang up.
    ‘Stay here. Let me sort this out. She’s being very naughty. Please don’t do anything until I get back.’
    Barbara couldn’t believe it. Just as it seemed they were getting somewhere! She wondered if it was Julia who was locked in upstairs. But what about the classroom? Maybe it was Emily.
    She frowned, trying to think of what Alan had said. He’d told her that shortly after Armande died in the helicopter crash, Margaret suffered another terrible tragedy. What was that?
    Barbara sat back. She’d always had a very vivid imagination and now it ran riot. What if none of it were true? What if Armande was upstairs? Perhaps he’d survived the helicopter
crash and was badly burned. Or what if he’d suffered terrible head injuries and lost his mind?
    She felt almost feverish. Could it be that, after she discovered their betrayal, Margaret had locked Armande or Julia away? Or maybe punished their child instead?
    Shaking, she gulped down her brandy. She heard a door closing above. Then the soft footfall of someone hurrying down the stairs.
    Barbara’s heart was beating fast and her hands were clenched tightly together as the kitchen door creaked open.

 
Chapter Nine
    Margaret stood in the doorway, smiling.
    ‘It’s all quiet now,’ she said. ‘Are you all right, Barbara? You look very agitated.’
    ‘I’m fine. It’s . . . it’s just the fire. It makes the room very warm,’ Barbara stammered.
    Margaret leaned over and touched Barbara’s face.
    ‘You’re so flushed. Would you like me to make you a coffee?’
    ‘No, really. We were interrupted and you were just about to ask me something.’
    ‘You’ve had too much to drink,’ Margaret teased.
    ‘Look, I’m ready.’ Barbara pressed her hand on top of the Bible. ‘Just tell me what you want me to say.’
    Margaret nodded and closed her eyes, placing her hands together as if in prayer.
    ‘Repeat these words: “I promise that I will never divulge this secret to anyone. It must remain with me and my knowing will release Margaret from all her promised responsibilities.
This I swear.”’
    When Barbara had said the words, Margaret touched her hand.
    ‘Thank you.’
    Although Barbara now did feel a little woozy, she was desperate for Margaret to continue. Impatiently, she asked, ‘Who is upstairs? I know someone is living up there.’
    Margaret sipped her glass of brandy.
    Then, not looking at Barbara, she resumed her story. She repeated that she’d arranged for Julia and Emily to stay with her in London. It was snowing. The roads were icy. When Julia had not
arrived by eleven, she became worried. At midnight she received a call from St Mary’s Hospital in Paddington. There had been an accident and her sister was in intensive care. She rang for a
taxi and went straight to the hospital.
    Julia was in a critical condition, desperate to talk to Margaret. Margaret screamed at the doctors to give her a few moments alone with her sister. At that point, Julia had clung