Читать книгу Trapped: The Terrifying True Story of a Secret World of Abuse онлайн | страница 29

‘Ow! Ouch!’ she yelled, struggling as if I’d wrestled her into an arm lock. Embarrassed by stares from several other customers, I released my hold, hoping she wouldn’t run off. Fortunately her path was blocked by a young woman who rounded the corner from the next aisle, pushing a pram in front of her.

‘Ah, a baby!’ Phoebe sounded delighted. ‘Can I say hello, please?’ She leaned into me, her manner suddenly coquettish.

‘Yes, nicely then, if that’s OK?’

The baby’s mother nodded and smiled. ‘Of course,’ she said, although her expression said otherwise.

‘What is its name?’ Phoebe asked sweetly, inching a step or two forwards. Without warning she reached into the pram, stroking the newborn’s tiny hand.

‘It is a her,’ I said, smiling reassuringly at the new mum, who hovered close by, ready to pounce if necessary.

‘Best not to touch the baby,’ I warned gently. I was reluctant to set off a tantrum in the busy shop but the look on Phoebe’s face prompted me to apply the brakes. Her eyes were swivelling with excitement, but there was also a manic element to her look that frightened me. Despite her slightness, there seemed to be a barely contained violence simmering beneath the surface, an unexploded rage. Besides, I wanted to secure an escape route for the young baby’s mother. She looked distinctly uncomfortable and who could blame her?

‘It’s Ella,’ the new mum responded politely, edging herself between Phoebe and the pram.

‘Can I kill it?’

The woman looked at me in horror, her eyes widened in alarm. Jerking the pram backwards, she swung it into the next aisle and stalked away, turning to bestow one final look of disgust my way.

‘Fucking baby! I’m going to eat it, I am,’ Phoebe called out gruffly after her.

‘Be quiet,’ I growled under my breath, grabbing her elbow again and marching her to the cold aisle so that I could grab some milk. ‘You mustn’t say horrible things like that.’

‘You mustn’t say horrible things like that.’

I stared at her, considering my best move. ‘Right, choose something for lunch and then we’ll go,’ I suggested mildly, though my teeth were gritted.