BooksBarbecue
Back The Hollows
Chapters (77)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Dedication
  5. PART I
  6. 1.
  7. 2.
  8. 3.
  9. 4.
  10. 5.
  11. 6.
  12. 7.
  13. 8.
  14. PART II
  15. 9.
  16. 10.
  17. 11.
  18. 12.
  19. 13.
  20. 14.
  21. 15.
  22. 16.
  23. 17.
  24. 18.
  25. 19.
  26. 20.
  27. 21.
  28. 22.
  29. 23.
  30. 24.
  31. 25.
  32. 26.
  33. 27.
  34. 28.
  35. 29.
  36. 30.
  37. 31.
  38. 32.
  39. 33.
  40. 34.
  41. 35.
  42. 36.
  43. PART III
  44. 37.
  45. 38.
  46. 39.
  47. 40.
  48. 41.
  49. 42.
  50. 43.
  51. 44.
  52. 45.
  53. 46.
  54. 47.
  55. 48.
  56. 49.
  57. 50.
  58. 51.
  59. 52.
  60. 53.
  61. 54.
  62. 55.
  63. 56.
  64. 57.
  65. 58.
  66. 59.
  67. 60.
  68. 61.
  69. 62.
  70. 63.
  71. 64.
  72. 65.
  73. PART IV
  74. 66.
  75. 67.
  76. 68.
  77. Acknowledgements

“All right. Settle down.” Dr Emmanuel wrapped blankets round her. “Joel,” said Jess, realising that at some point the child had been taken from her. “Baby Joel –”

“He’s fine, love.” Dr Emmanuel stroked her hair. “You kept him good and warm. We’re looking after him. You need to look after yourself right now.”

He was okay. Dr Emmanuel said he was okay. Someone came over, handed Dr Emmanuel something. A mug. “Here, love. Get this down your neck.”

Tea. Hot. Sweet. Scalding. “Dr Emmanuel.”

“Told you before, love, it’s Milly.”

“Milly.”

“Yeah?”

“The Bible,” Jess said again.

“I heard you, sweetheart. I’ll show her, soon as I see her face.”

“Okay.”

Someone had called out; Dr Emmanuel – Milly – looked round and grimaced. “Duty calls,” she muttered. “Tara?”

A young girl came over: about Jess’ age, give or take. A bit taller, but nearly as thin. A different thinness, though: lean, wiry, tough. She looked familiar, somehow. What was it about her face?

“Just keep an eye on her for me, okay?” said Milly. “Any changes, give us a shout.”

“Will do.” The girl looked at Jess, face unreadable. That face – it looked like –

“Cheers, Tara.” Milly got up. “See you in a bit, Jess, love.”

Tara; the second time she heard the name, Jess made the connection. The face was like Mrs Caddick’s – younger, softer, but this was still Laura Caddick’s girl, looking at Jess with no expression and eyes she couldn’t read. What was Jess supposed to say? I’m sorry? I know what it’s like; it happened to me too?

In the end, she said nothing, and it turned out she didn’t need to. “You’ll be all right,” Tara Caddick said. “Get your head down. I’ll keep an eye out. No one’s gonna hurt you.”

“Thanks,” Jess whispered, wanting to cry. Mum’d drummed into her over the years how everyone outside the family hated every Harper. We’re all scum to them, cos of who we are. All you’ve got’s your family, Jess Harper, and don’t you forget it. All them out there, they’d knife you soon’s look at you. But not everyone did. Jess supposed, as she closed her eyes, that it could be all a trick, that Tara would slit her throat as she slept, but she didn’t believe that, not really. She was too tired to stay awake, anyway. She closed her eyes and settled herself as best her crooked back would let her. Her lips moved as she tried to pray, to any god that might listen to the likes of her, that she wouldn’t dream.

She didn’t, but she didn’t sleep long either. She blinked awake in her cocoon of blankets to the sound of engines. Voices, too. People in the church. Muttering: puzzled, hopeful, worried.