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‘Oh, hi, it’s me from Mumsnet. Yummummy25. Stupid name. Daisy, actually. You want to know about Georgia Smith?’
‘Yes, I?—’
‘That bitch broke my daughter’s arm – snapped it – and what did the school do about it?’
I gasp. ‘She what? How? Why?’
‘I swear she had it in for her the moment she saw her. Well, I’ve taken my money elsewhere, thank you very much. You be careful. She?—’
‘How did it happen? Did you go to the police?’
‘Honest to God I think she was screwing the head. I told him she was harassing us – emails, phone calls. She came round the house! And he acted like she shat gold eggs, I swear. I knew something bad was going to happen. Her arm still hurts to this day. No word of a lie. She?—’
‘Daisy, I’m sorry, it sounds awful, but what actually happened?’
‘What happened? She broke my little girl’s arm!’
‘But how?’
‘I’m telling you, aren’t I? She pushed her – pushed her hard, you know? And Meadow fell and it’s like I keep saying, that woman was trying to hurt her. She had?—’
‘Why did she push her?’
‘That’s what I’m saying – because she had a problem with my daughter. There’s no good reason, is there? She’s nuts – she shouldn’t be a teacher.’
I rub my forehead. ‘Why didn’t the school do anything?’
‘Well, I’ve never personally seen the head with his pants down but I’m guessing he has a penis.’
‘But why did he say he wasn’t going to… take things further?’
‘That’s what I’m saying – he didn’t give me one good reason.’
‘Do you have a statement or something I can give the police? My daughter… my daughter…’ I close my eyes and press my hand on my mouth. I manage a whisper: ‘My daughter is missing and I think Georgia Smith is involved and I don’t think the police believe me.’
‘That’s it right there. Fucking police. I’ve tried telling them.’
‘Can I give you a number? The detective in charge of my daughter’s case.’
‘Yeah, of course.’
I read the number out.
‘I’ll call right now. Right this minute.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Fucking Georgia Smith.’ She hangs up.
Georgia hurt this woman’s daughter – physically harmed a child in her care. I squeeze my thigh and watch the cuts gape open.
43
NOW
I cry onto my knees for a minute then wipe my eyes and leave a message on Detective Bevan’s phone about Georgia breaking her student’s arm, hoping the reason Bevan isn’t picking up is because she’s speaking to Daisy.
Outside, the night is black. I switch on a lamp and imagine Jenna seeing the light in the window from far off, keeping it in sight as she walks back to me.
