Cry of the Children Read Online Free Page A

– a silly girl. Lucy tutted silently to herself with all the righteous puritanism of a seven-year-old.
    Then she had to watch the terminally boring business of Matt buying himself a new electric shaver, whilst her mum giggled and asked questions that Lucy did not understand but which the salesman’s reactions told her were silly. Matt made a great show of trying out different models and discussing with the man behind the counter what you got for the extra money with the dearer ones. Then he bought the cheapest of them, which Lucy felt she had known from the start he would do.
    They had their lunch in a café in the middle of the town. Lucy was told it was a treat for her and she would normally have enjoyed it. But the place was crowded and it took them a long time to get served. Lucy couldn’t help thinking of the summer and her visit here with just her mum, when they walked round the grounds of the old castle and then had tea in a much nicer café beside the river. Matt bought her a milkshake at the end of the meal as a special treat, then asked her when she’d finished whether she’d enjoyed it. ‘Too sweet!’ Lucy said decisively. Her mum told her that was rude and ungrateful. Probably it was, Lucy thought to herself. She couldn’t remember ever saying anything was too sweet for her before.
    It seemed ages before they finally reached home. Then her mum insisted on parading up and down in her new coat, to make sure she’d made the right choice. Lucy asked again about the fair, even though she’d been forbidden to mention it again. She was told she must be tired and needed a rest before she went out and got excited. She was sent to her room to read her book and calm down. She talked to Donna, her favourite doll, and told her how stupid and annoying grown-ups could be.
    When she went down again, Matt was sitting with his arm round her mum on the sofa. Mum had her head on his shoulder; her eyes were closed and she was nearly asleep. She had what Lucy thought was a stupid smile on her face. She scrambled up when she heard her daughter and said she would make them tea and cake. Lucy followed her into the kitchen, not daring to ask the question that shone out from every feature in her small, anxious face.
    â€˜Matt’s going to take you to the fair,’ said her mum. ‘That’s good of him, isn’t it? And you must promise to be a very good girl for him.’
    Lucy clenched her lips and nodded firmly three times. She didn’t want to go with Matt, not on his own. But she wouldn’t risk being told she was a naughty, ungrateful girl and wouldn’t be allowed to go, as had happened two weeks ago when she’d been hoping to go to the cinema. ‘Won’t you be coming?’ she said.
    â€˜No. I’ll stay here and wash up and tidy the house. You’ll be going after tea, like a big girl. You are a big girl now, aren’t you?’
    Not again, thought Lucy. When do you get old enough for people to stop telling you that? She nodded mutely, not trusting herself to speak, not wanting to say anything that might see her forbidden to go to the fairground. The fair had been withheld from her for so long now that it seemed the only thing that mattered in her life. Eventually, her mum said, ‘It will be a good chance for Matt and you to get to know each other better, won’t it? Well, I should say even better, because you already know each other quite well now, don’t you? It’s very important to me that you two get on with each other, you know.’ And then she suddenly bent forwards and hugged Lucy so hard that her daughter felt she couldn’t breathe. Grown-ups did things like that. As she smoothed her dress, Lucy felt that they should give you some sort of warning before a hug like that one.
    She put on her prettiest blue dress for the fair, with the pale blue beanie her mum had bought her in the summer. She wondered as she set off