13
Annabel was damp, cold, frightened and bruised all over. She’d hitched a lift in a van, it had felt like the last ride out of there, and been tossed about like a stick, nothing to sit on but a pile of empty sacks.
Janet looked past her as if she was going to produce Bridget from the dark. “Is she with you?”
“Who is this?” snapped Ray.
Janet put a hand on his arm. “She’s from school. Is she with you?”
“You can see perfectly well she’s not with her. Why would she be with her? What have you done with her?”
“We’ve lost Bridget.” said Janet.
“I’ve lost Bridget,” said Annabel at the same time…
The skinny
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