Raggy Maggie

by Barry Hutchison

  ‘Where’s Billy?’ I asked.

  ‘Not telling.’

  ‘What have you done with him?’

  ‘I told you, silly,’ she giggled, turning back to face me. ‘I’m not telling!’

  She skipped past and disappeared behind me, leaving me alone with the thing she’d been positioning on the table.

  The porcelain face of the doll was slumped sideways on the bundle of grubby material that made up its body. A long dark crack ran from the top of its head and down the left side of its face, completely obscuring one eye. The other eye squinted across the table at me, painted on, but eerily lifelike.

  Raggy Maggie had seemed disturbing enough in the Darkest Corners, but here in the school the doll was somehow even more chilling.

  ‘Tea?’

  I jumped in my seat as Caddie appeared beside me. She was holding a small plastic teapot. Her wide eyes looked at me expectantly.

  ‘What?’ I spluttered. ‘No.’

  Immediately her face darkened, as if a shadow had crawled across it. ‘But it’s a tea party,’ she glowered. ‘Why would you come to a tea party if you weren’t going to have tea?’

  I glanced from Caddie to the doll on the table. Its single eye bored into me, as if waiting for my answer.

  ‘Go on then,’ I croaked, turning back to the little girl. Her face brightened at once. ‘Just a small one.’

  ‘Oh, goody,’ she trilled. ‘Maybe if you’re extra good you might even get a cake.’

  I nodded nervously. ‘Yum.’

  Maybe you’re wondering why I was so scared of a girl with a doll. If so then you’ve obviously never met Caddie. If you had, you’d know exactly why I was playing along with her little tea party scene.

  As soon as I’d set eyes on her in the Darkest Corners, I could tell there was something ‘wrong’ about Caddie. At first glance she looked more or less like any other five-year-old girl, but it didn’t take long to realise she was something much more sinister than that.

  Partly it was her eyes – the irises almost filled them, so dark as to be virtually black, like two gaping holes in her head. The make-up didn’t help, either: dark blue circles ringing the eyes, a crimson smear across the lips and a smudge of red on each pale cheek.

  The words she said could have been those of any other kid her age, but the way she spoke implied a deeper, darker meaning behind them that only she was aware of. She also had a strange intensity about her, as if she were three wrong words away from becoming very, very angry. Somehow I knew that making her very, very angry would be a very, very stupid thing to do.

  Caddie was, in short, more frightening than any little girl had any right to be. And as for the doll…Don’t get me started on the doll.

  Caddie hummed below her breath as she tipped the spout of her teapot over my cup. Nothing came out, but this didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest.

  ‘Sugar?’ she asked, when she’d finished pouring.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘Thanks.’

  She frowned briefly, but said nothing, and carried on round the table to where Raggy Maggie was slumped. Once again she tipped the contents of her toy teapot into the waiting cup. ‘Raggy Maggie likes sugar, don’t you, Raggy Maggie?’

  The doll, as expected, didn’t reply.

  After spooning some invisible sugar and pouring some imaginary milk into her doll’s cup, Caddie moved around to the opposite side of the table and took her seat. She was so short she had to stretch up in the chair to pour her own pretend tea. Milk. Eight sugars.

  ‘Drink up,’ she giggled. She took a sip from her own cup. The shlurp sound she made was surprisingly convincing. ‘Oh, I forgot,’ she said, smiling, ‘you can’t. You’re all tied up.’

  ‘What do you want?’ I asked.

  Shlurp. ‘Mmm, a biscuit would be nice. A chocolate one. With sprinkles.’

  ‘No, I mean…what do you want?’

  She sat her cup down on the saucer. Those dark, empty eyes of hers fixed firmly on me. I could feel the doll staring at me too, but I tried not to think about it.

  ‘Just to play,’ she said with an exaggerated shrug. ‘We just want to have fun, that’s all. Nothing’s fun where we live.’

  ‘The Darkest Corners.’

  Her face changed in an instant. Her eyes narrowed, pushed down by her eyebrows as her mouth pulled into an angry snarl. ‘Don’t you say that,’ she cried. ‘Don’t say that place!’

  She was on her feet before I knew it, snatching up her cup. She thrust it sharply forward, as if throwing her imaginary tea. I almost smiled, before the pain hit me.

  Nothing had been poured into the cup, and I saw nothing come out of it, but as soon as she’d chucked it towards me a blisteringly hot liquid hit the top of my school jumper and began to soak through my shirt.

  I let out a hiss of shock as the skin on my chest began to burn. Caddie continued to glare. I knew she wasn’t going to help me. No one was. I had no choice but to screw my eyes shut, grit my teeth and wait for the pain to pass.

  The worst of it probably faded in less than a minute, although it felt like longer. In just a few minutes more I was left with merely a dull ache, although it was made worse by the fact that my shirt was clinging to it.

  Caddie was still standing up on the other side of the table, but her face was no longer twisted so fiercely. She gave a little cough as she lowered herself back into her seat and poured another cup of boiling hot nothing.

  ‘That was your fault,’ she explained. Her voice was back to normal again, all trace of the rage that had gripped her gone. ‘I didn’t want to do that, but you made…’

  Her voice trailed off and she turned to look at her doll.

  ‘What’s that, Raggy Maggie?’ she asked, reaching over and carefully lifting the bundle of rags off the table.

  She held the doll to her ear, moving its head up and down slightly, as if it was whispering to her. For a moment I almost wondered what it was saying, until I reminded myself it was only a toy.

  ‘Hmm, I don’t know, Raggy Maggie,’ Caddie murmured. Her eyes were still on me, not blinking. ‘You think we should do what to him?’

  I watched the scene playing out before me, barely aware that I was holding my breath. My hands wriggled at my back as I struggled to free them from the rope or wire or whatever it was that was holding them together.

  It was no use. The harder I struggled, the deeper my bonds dug into my wrists. All I could do was sit there. Sit there and wait to find out what Caddie had in store.

  ‘Oh, but he’s a nice boy,’ Caddie protested. ‘He might be our friend.’ The doll’s head waggled up and down more forcefully. ‘He didn’t know they were bad words,’ the girl continued. ‘It’s not fair!’

  Raggy Maggie stopped moving – just for a moment – then gave a final few nods of her head.

  ‘OK,’ Caddie nodded, her face brightening. She turned her wrist so the doll’s solitary eye was looking towards me. ‘Raggy Maggie wants you to say sorry for saying the bad words,’ the girl explained. ‘I think you’d better. She’s very cross.’

  My lips had gone dry. I licked them, but there was no saliva left in my mouth, so it didn’t help. ‘Sorry,’ I croaked.

  ‘Say it properly.’ Caddie stood up and stretched across the table, holding out the doll so its expressionless face was just a few centimetres from my own. Up close it smelled sour, like a carton of milk a month past its sell-by-date.

  ‘Sorry for saying the bad words,’ I said. I felt like an idiot, but more than anything I wanted the doll out of my face.

  ‘Thank you for being so nice, Raggy Maggie,’ prompted Caddie.

  I hesitated, but then carried on. ‘Thanks for being so nice.’

  Raggy Maggie’s porcelain head bobbed up and down. As it did, Caddie spoke in a harsh, scratchy voice. ‘You’re welcome,’ the voice said. ‘Don’t do it again.’

  The doll was pulled back across the table, but wasn’t put down in its place. Instead Caddie held on to it, both of them f
acing me. We sat there in silence for a long time, the occasional whimper from Mrs Milton the only sound to be heard.

  I was about to say something – anything – when Caddie spoke. ‘We’re going to play a game,’ she told me, her eyes sparkling with excitement. My heart sank. The groans from the headmistress testified to the damage Caddie’s games could do.

  ‘What kind of game?’

  ‘A fun game. It’s like hide-and-seek, only better!’ She was bouncing up and down in her seat now, barely containing her delight. ‘Me and Raggy Maggie will go and hide somewhere, and you’ve got to find us.’

  ‘OK…’ I said, hardly believing my luck. Once they were out of the way I could find a way to get free and escape. ‘Sounds good.’

  ‘I’m not finished yet, silly,’ Caddie giggled. ‘Because we’re not going to be hiding all by ourselves. We’re going to be hiding with our best friend in the whole wide world.’ She hugged Raggy Maggie tightly to her face. ‘Billy.’

  That complicated things a bit, but not much. I would still go and get help. Yes, Billy might be stuck with Little Miss Crazy and her dolly for a while, but he’d made my life a misery for years, and I found it difficult to feel too bad for him.

  ‘And here’s the best part of all,’ Caddie gushed. ‘We’ll all be hiding somewhere here in the school, and if you don’t find us in one hour…’ She glanced at her doll and giggled. ‘Billy dies.’

  Chapter Seven

  THE GAME BEGINS

  “Four little rules,’ continued Caddie, barely pausing for breath after dropping her bombshell. ‘One, you’re not allowed to leave the school. Go outside and

  something bad happens to Billy.’ ‘Something bad like what?’ Caddie shrugged. ‘Up to Raggy Maggie. She’s good at doing bad things.’

  I nodded. ‘I bet. What’s the second rule?’

  ‘No shouting for help,’ Caddie warned. ‘If we catch you doing that, something bad happens to Billy. Something even worse than bad.’

  ‘Got it,’ I said.

  ‘Rule number C is that you’re not allowed to use your magic powers. We know all about them, and if you use them even once then that’s cheating.’

  ‘What’ll happen if I do?’

  ‘Something bad, of course!’ Caddie giggled. ‘How many rules is that?’

  ‘Three.’

  ‘OK. Rule number four is the most important of all, so listen very carefully.’ She got up from her chair and skipped round to where I was sitting, swinging Raggy Maggie by her arms.

  When she reached me, she rested a hand on my shoulder. Her dark eyes stared into mine, her face solemn and sincere. ‘The most important rule of all,’ she said, quietly, ‘is: have fun.’ Her face broke into a broad, happy smile. ‘Winning’s not important.’

  ‘It’s pretty important for Billy,’ I pointed out.

  ‘Well, yes, but it’s the taking part that counts. If a game’s not fun, then what’s the point in playing it?’

  ‘Right,’ I said. ‘Have fun. I’ll try.’

  ‘Oh, goodie!’ she beamed. ‘Any questions?’

  ‘Just one. What makes you think I’ll play?’ I asked. ‘I don’t even like Billy. What makes you think I’ll help him?’

  ‘Because Daddy said you would,’ Caddie replied. ‘He says you’d want to play at being the big brave hero.’

  I frowned. ‘What? I don’t even know who your dad is.’

  ‘Not my daddy, silly.’

  She turned away and looked up at the wall behind me. Her lips moved as she silently tried to work something out in her head. ‘What’s it called when the big hand is at twelve and the little hand is at two?’ she asked.

  ‘Two o’clock.’

  ‘And what’s one hour up from two o’clock?’

  ‘Four o’clock,’ I said, hoping to buy myself some more time.

  ‘Liar, liar, pants on fire,’ she sang. Her hand reached for the teapot on the table. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the pain.

  A howl of anguish rose up from Mrs Milton. I opened my eyes and whipped my head round. Caddie was standing behind me, tipping the teapot over the head teacher. As before there was nothing to be seen coming from the spout, but Mrs Milton was thrashing around in pain, babbling and sobbing as her skin blistered and burned.

  ‘Stop it,’ I pleaded. ‘Stop it, leave her alone.’

  ‘Cheating is very naughty,’ Caddie tutted, tipping the teapot up to empty the last of the contents over the helpless headmistress. ‘This is what happens when you cheat.’

  ‘But it was me who cheated, not her. It’s me you should be punishing.’

  Caddie stopped pouring and gave that little high-pitched giggle again. ‘See? Daddy was right,’ she said. Opening the lid of the teapot, she peeked inside. ‘All done,’ she shrugged, and she let it drop to the floor.

  I watched Mrs Milton lie there, still writhing in pain. I’ve never felt more guilty for anything in my whole life.

  ‘Three o’clock, don’t be late,’ Caddie said, slipping her feet back into her oversized shoes. ‘Billy’s counting on it.’

  ‘Are you going to untie me?’

  ‘Don’t be silly, that’s part of the game.’ She skipped her way towards the canteen door. Halfway there she stopped and listened to the whispers of her doll. ‘Oh yes, you’re right, Raggy Maggie, I nearly forgot.’

  She turned back and flashed me another smile. ‘I brought some other friends to play too. You’ll have to get past them if you’re going to find us.’ Something menacing glinted behind her eyes. ‘Don’t worry, they’re lots and lots of fun.’

  With one final giggle, she skipped on out of the canteen, leaving me alone with the wreckage of my head teacher.

  ‘It’s OK, Mrs Milton, I’m going to get us out of here,’ I promised, although I didn’t yet know how I was going to manage it. Whatever Caddie had used to tie my wrists was stronger than I was. No matter how hard I pulled I couldn’t get free. For a five-year-old, the girl could tie a serious knot.

  From the corner of my eye I saw something move over by one of the canteen’s tall, narrow windows. A long green curtain fluttered as it was pushed aside, and a short little man popped his balding head out.

  ‘She gone?’ he asked.

  I nodded. The man seemed to relax at this, and he stepped out from behind the curtain.

  ‘Twice I nearly sneezed back there,’ he said, blowing out his cheeks. ‘Dust in the ‘tache.’ He gave his greying moustache a brush with his fingertips. ‘Can you imagine if I had? Disaster.’

  ‘You were there the whole time?’ I scowled. ‘You just hid there and didn’t do anything to stop her?’

  ‘Stop her?’ the man snorted. ‘How am I supposed to stop her?’

  ‘Let me see. Maybe because she’s a little girl and you’re a sixty-year-old man?’

  The man’s face lit up. ‘Sixty? Really? Sixty years old? Me?’ He shook his head in delighted disbelief. ‘Sixty. That’s made my day, that has. I’m actually sixty-seven.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ I hissed, as he took a few steps closer. ‘I still don’t…Hey, wait a minute, don’t I know you?’

  Now I could see him properly, there was something very familiar about the man. The balding head. The moustache. The sagging jaw and podgy belly. I’d seen him before, but where?

  ‘We’ve met,’ he nodded. ‘You wouldn’t pull my cracker with me.’

  ‘You’re that policeman,’ I gasped. ‘From the station.’

  Ameena and I had taken sanctuary in the police station when we were running from Mr Mumbles. Although he didn’t seem to believe me when I told him we were being chased, the policeman had finally agreed to go outside and see if he could spot anyone acting suspiciously.

  A few minutes later he’d come crashing through the door. I could still remember the noise he’d made as he struck the back wall. The sight and smell of his blood was as vivid now as it had been back then. I’d gone back to try to find him, but by the time I returned he had vanished. I had no idea what
had happened to him until now.

  ‘I thought you were dead,’ I told him.

  ‘I just wished I was,’ he said, wincing at the memory. ‘For a while, at least. Being thrown head-first through a double-glazed door does that to you.’

  He crossed to Mrs Milton and knelt by her. I couldn’t see his face from my seat, but the way he sucked his breath in through his teeth told me he was worried.

  ‘Will she be OK?’

  ‘Hard to say,’ he replied. ‘Caddie’s hurt her pretty badly. Scrambled her brain right up.’

  I paused for a moment, replaying the last couple of sentences in my head, making sure I’d heard him correctly. When I was confident that I had I asked, ‘How do you know her name?’

  He turned, still crouching, and looked up at me. ‘Because I’m not really a policeman, Kyle,’ he said. I opened my mouth to ask more, but he silenced me with a wave of his hand. ‘No time for that now. You’ve got to find the boy before it’s too late.’

  ‘Billy!’ I exclaimed. I’d almost forgotten.

  The man gestured down at Mrs Milton. She was still just lying there. Still sobbing. Still broken. ‘I can help you,’ he began, ‘or I can help her. Your choice.’

  ‘Help her,’ I said quickly, in case I changed my mind.

  He nodded, then began to untie the ropes binding me. ‘She’s not alone. She’s brought…others,’ he warned. ‘And don’t believe anything she tells you. You can’t trust her, so be careful.’

  The tightness on my wrists loosened and I felt the blood begin to rush back into my tingling hands.

  ‘I will,’ I said, standing up. My head still ached from where the hockey stick had smacked into it, but I ignored it as best I could.

  ‘One quick question,’ the man began. I turned and looked down at him.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your…abilities. You didn’t use them to get free. Why?’

  ‘How did you know about—?’

  ‘Tell you later. Why didn’t you?’

  I hesitated, not quite sure how to explain it. ‘Because…I can’t. I haven’t been able to do anything. Not since…since I did those things. On the roof.’