The Reservoir Tapes

The girl shrugged again.

Doesn’t it hurt your shoulders, Ginny asked; all that shrugging?

The girl was trying not to smile, Ginny could see.

Ginny asked if she lived locally, knowing full well that she didn’t.

I’m here on holiday, she said.

Because I don’t know what it’s like where you live, Ginny told her,

but in these parts people think it bad manners to go climbing over other people’s fences.

Okay, the girl said.

It sounded as close as she would ever get to an apology.

It was enough for Ginny.

When you leave, she said, I’d prefer you to go out through the front gate here. Like a normal person.

The girl did smile then, finally.

Ginny asked if her parents knew where she was.

The girl said her parents wouldn’t worry about her for a few hours. She said they knew it was safe round here, and they trusted her.

She was very sure of herself.

Will you know how to get back? Ginny asked. The girl nodded.

She stood up, brushing herself off and picking up a bag she’d been sitting on.

My name’s Becky, she said, holding out her hand.

Ginny unlocked the front gate, and told her to get a move on.

Becky squeezed past her, and mumbled something that

may have been thank you. Or may not.

Up close, she’d looked nothing like Laura at all.

But she’d had that spirit.

Ginny wanted to tell the girl’s parents something about this. One day. She wasn’t sure it would help. But she thought they might like to know.

If their girl had gone off

the way Laura did, she’d be,

she’d probably be

okay, Ginny thought.

She was younger than Laura had been

when she left,