Read The Little One [Quick Read 2012] for Free Online Page A

kitchen door in case she needed to use the bathroom. Margaret turned and paused. ‘If you stay in the kitchen you’ll be all
right.’
    Then she was gone.
    Disturbed by this odd behaviour, Barbara was even more certain that there was someone else upstairs. The kitchen was warm, the fire was blazing, but the big room was full of shadows and strange
shapes.
    She washed her face in the kitchen sink, cleaned her teeth and changed into the nightdress. She was unfolding the blanket when she heard footsteps.
    She expected Margaret to walk in, but nothing happened. She crossed the room and listened, easing the door open a fraction. It was pitch dark in the hall and there was a blast of freezing air.
The further she opened the door, the colder it felt. By taking one small step into the hallway she could see that the front door was wide open.
    Margaret was coming in. She had on a long cloak with a fur-lined hood and looked very angry. Afraid that she would be seen, Barbara pulled the door shut. She stayed by the fire for almost half
an hour. Then she simply had to go and have a look.
    The house was silent. By the light of the candle, Barbara crept out into the hall and went to the window by the front door. She peeked out. Another soft flurry of snow was sweeping over the
driveway. Just as she was turning away she saw something that chilled her.
    Footprints were plainly visible: not one set, but two. One was larger than the other. They were quite clear. Two people had been walking side by side. The prints led to a little snowman, about a
foot high, with pebbles for eyes and a button for a nose.
    ‘I was right. There is someone else in the house,’ she whispered.
    Barbara hurried back to the kitchen. She left the candle burning as she thought about what she’d seen. Had Margaret had a child, one that was sick and needed to be locked up? Was this what
she was so afraid of anyone finding out?
    Barbara could feel herself dozing. She’d had a lot to drink. Why hadn’t she brought her laptop, or anything on which she could write down what was happening? She really wanted to
talk to her editor. This would make a fascinating article.
    She fell into a deep sleep dreaming about her successful series, ‘Where Are They Now?’. It featured sad, lonely Margaret Reynolds, who was destined to live out her life as a recluse
to care for a sick child.

 
Chapter Seven
    It was midnight and the kitchen was dark. From the dying embers of the fire came shadows that made eerie shapes on the walls.
    The sound of a piano being played very badly woke her. Tink-tink-tink. Then there was the sound of the lid being banged shut. Next came the light running footsteps, like a child’s. This
was followed by Margaret’s voice, muffled and indistinct, obviously having a conversation.
    Barbara could hear a nursery rhyme, ‘Three Blind Mice’, repeated over and over again. She decided that she would go upstairs and see for herself.
    She put on the dressing gown. Lighting her candle, she silently eased open the kitchen door. She crept along the hall and made her way upstairs. There was no sign of Margaret. She tried one of
the other doors that had been locked. This time it opened.
    A child’s bedroom was painted pink, with a pink duvet and pillows. Nothing frightening whatsoever. The pink-and-white wardrobe was filled with velvet party frocks, patent-leather shoes,
kilts and sweaters and blouses. Hats, coats and more shoes were lined up on one side.
    Barbara had to hold her cupped hand to the flame, afraid it would splutter out or drip wax. She quietly closed the door, then froze. From above on the second floor she heard the same light
footsteps. Someone hopping and skipping and then Margaret’s voice, clearly this time.
    ‘Stop it! Now just behave. You have to practise. I mean it, so do as I ask. DON’T TRY TO GET OUT! STOP IT! STOP IT!’
    Barbara was afraid to go up to the next floor. The candle flame was low. It had burned right down to the