Take a Good Look

by Jacqueline Wilson

  He gave Mary a tug, and opened the car door.

  ‘Come on, kid, get moving.’

  Mary had been cramped up for so long it was a hard job to move at all. Pins and needles prickled her legs, so that she hobbled and nearly fell as he dragged her out. The fresh air in the backyard smelt good after the stuffy car. She turned her head, trying desperately to see just a little. Her eyes watered with the strain. Were those dark shapes houses? If they were houses then they’d have people inside them. People who might help her.

  She filled her lungs with air. What if she screamed for help at the top of her voice and then tried to run for it?

  But the knife man was still holding on to her. He pulled her close to him, the knife at her back now. The bulky money bag bumped against her legs.

  ‘No funny business, kid, do you hear? One squeak out of you and you’ll get it.’

  Mary nodded silently, knowing she’d better do as he said. The man pulled her over towards the shadow of the house. She didn’t know which way to go and the pins and needles were still hurting her legs. She stumbled and he shook her impatiently.

  ‘Walk properly!’

  Mary’s eyes stung. He was so mean and cruel and unfair. She wanted to shout all sorts of things at him but she didn’t dare, not with the knife at her back.

  He pulled her along until they came to some steps with a railing. Mary froze, terrified of tripping again.

  ‘Move it!’

  Mary moved, and very nearly fell headlong. The steps didn’t go up as she’d expected. They went down. She couldn’t understand it. If you were on the ground then steps always went up, didn’t they? But these definitely went down to a dank cold little landing. The man fiddled with the keys and then pushed her inside.

  Mary’s boots squeaked on the floor. She must be in a kitchen. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of sour dishcloths and unemptied rubbish.

  ‘What a tip,’ the man muttered, and he pushed Mary through the first room and into a second.

  He left her where she was while he went and swished the curtains, closing them all. Then there was a click from a corner of the room and a sudden burst of talking, making her start. He’d obviously switched on the television.

  ‘Out the way, kid, you’re in front of the screen.’

  Mary ducked first to one side, then the other, not knowing where to go. She tripped over some sort of footstool and fell on her hands and knees. The man laughed as if she’d done something funny.

  ‘Blind as a bat!’

  Mary stifled a sob. She sat where she was, not daring to move any more. She heard the man opening a cupboard door and then a little hiss as he opened a can of drink. The television blared uncomfortably loudly.

  ‘Oh fine, make yourself at home,’ said the other man, coming into the room. ‘What you closed the curtains for? It’s broad daylight.’

  ‘Exactly. We don’t want anyone peering down into your mucky little dungeon and spotting the kid, do we? How often do you clean this dump, Micky? It’s filthy. And that smell, it’s turning my stomach.’

  ‘Oh pardon me I’m sure. I wasn’t expecting to do any entertaining. I see you’ve helped yourself to a drink already.’

  ‘Yeah, and you can get us some food too, I’m starving.’

  ‘I thought you felt sick? I blooming well do. And switch that television off, I’ve got a headache.’

  ‘I want to catch the news. We might be on it.’

  ‘Are you mad? You’re sounding as if you’re enjoying all this!’

  ‘Well, why not? We got the money, didn’t we? Look at it all. And we got away with it too.’

  ‘We got away with the kid.’ He came closer and bent down right in front of Mary. She still couldn’t see his face properly. She didn’t dare try to focus in case he’d notice. She kept her eyes deliberately vague, swivelling from side to side. Tears were still dribbling down her cheeks.

  ‘Look at her! It’s all right, pet, we’ll be letting you go home to your mummy very soon.’

  Mary thought of Mum and cried harder.

  ‘Can’t you stop the kid snivelling? It’s getting on my nerves,’ said the knife man. He was rustling paper, muttering, counting. ‘We got away with quite a bundle, Micky. More than we hoped for. And yet… I don’t know. It doesn’t seem so much when you think of the risks we took.’

  ‘Yeah, quite! So maybe we should cool it for a bit.’

  ‘Or maybe… maybe we should go for the big time number. Start talking in thousands. Maybe a hundred thousand, maybe even more.’

  ‘What you on about? You flipped your lid with all the excitement?’ said Micky, coming back to Mary. ‘Here, kid. Like crisps? Have some of these. Can you feed yourself or do you want me to do it for you?’

  ‘I can do it,’ Mary whispered, marvelling at his stupidity. But at least he wasn’t as nasty as the other one.

  ‘Give us some crisps, Micky. And anything else you’ve got. I tell you I’m starving. And I’m not off my head. I reckon we’re on to a sure thing. We’ll ransom the kid.’

  Mary choked on a crisp. The hard edge scratched her throat. She sat still with her mouth full of softening salty crisps, barely able to swallow.

  ‘You are mad! Look, mate, I’m not getting into any kidnapping game, I’m telling you. I’m strictly for the small-time.’

  ‘But we’re big-time now whether you like it or not,’ said the knife man, springing across the room to turn the television up again. ‘Look!’

  Mary couldn’t look but she could listen.

  ‘A disturbing news item has just come in about a post office robbery in Kingston, in which the two robbers abducted a little blind girl. We’ll hope to have more on that story in our next bulletin,’ said the television announcer.

  ‘Oh no!’ said Micky. ‘You idiot, I knew taking the kid was a mistake. Look at us now. Right on the main news!’

  ‘You’d be banged up in the local nick right this minute if we hadn’t taken the kid.’

  ‘Yeah, well, maybe that would have been better than this. They’ll have half the coppers in the country out after us. We’d better let the kid go now, Bob.’

  ‘Oh yeah? And how you going to do that, eh? Escort her down the road and wave bye-bye to her outside the local cop shop?’

  ‘Well, of course not. But we could… we could take her out in the car somewhere –’

  ‘When the whole manor’s buzzing with cops? Very sensible.’

  ‘Yeah well, maybe tonight then, after dark…’

  ‘Think they’ll let up then? They’ll nab us as soon as we’re down the street, and you know it. I reckon the kid will be headline news by the next bulletin, specially as she’s blind. They’ll have a description of her. She’ll be dynamite.’

  ‘So what the hell are we going to do?’ said Micky, his voice high with panic.

  Mary surreptitiously spat out her soggy mouthful of crisps, and waited.

  ‘I’m telling you. We’ll keep her. Make no move for several days, so that her parents get nice and desperate. And then we’ll make contact and ask for the money. Big money.’

  Several days! Mary thought in agony.

  ‘She’s just an ordinary kid. It’s not like she’s a millionaire’s kid. You’re off your head, man. How can they ever raise that sort of cash?’

  ‘That’s their problem. They’ve got a house, haven’t they? So they can think about flogging it. Hey, kid, what sort of house do you live in?’

  Mary shook her head, not knowing what to say.

  ‘Is it a big house?’ Micky asked more gently.

  ‘Mmm,’ said Mary.

  ‘And what does your dad do for a living, eh?’

  ‘He goes out to business,’ Mary whispered.

  ‘There, a businessman! Maybe he’s one of these city types, worth a fortune,’ said the knife man triumphantly.

  ‘But what if he isn’t? What if they can’t get the cash?’ Micky asked.

  ‘Then they can’t get the kid back, can they?’ said the knife man.


  Mary shivered.

  ‘I don’t like it, Bob. It’s much too risky. How are you going to make contact? And if they come up with the cash, how are you going to hand over the kid without the cops leaping up and down on you?’

  ‘We’ll work out the details later. We’ve got plenty of time. Meanwhile let’s just take it easy.’ He opened another can of drink.

  Mary’s dry throat tried to swallow on nothing.

  ‘Please,’ she whispered. ‘Please could I have a drink too?’

  ‘Sure thing, kid,’ said the knife man, and threw a can at her, laughing.

  ‘No,’ said Micky snatching it away from her. ‘No, you don’t want that, kid, it’s beer. I’ll get you something. What do you like drinking, eh? What do kids drink? I think all the milk’s gone sour.’

  ‘Like everything else in this dump. Go out down the shops, Micky, get some drinks in, and some Chinese take-aways.’

  ‘I can’t go out, it’s too risky. What if they got a good description of us?’

  ‘We had the balaclavas on, didn’t we? So what could they see? Two blokes in jeans. We could be anybody. Don’t start getting so windy, Micky. You’ve got to act natural. Go about your usual business so none of your neighbours twig there’s anything suspicious.’

  ‘Oh sure. And what if they hear the kid crying, what then?’

  ‘We’ll put a gag on her.’

  ‘I won’t cry!’ said Mary quickly.

  She wanted to cry so much. It got worse when Micky went out for food and drink. Mary was left alone with the knife man.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Mary sat hunched in her corner, tense and still. The knife man was too far away for her to see anything but a dark shape. He was sitting still too. She was scared he was watching her.

  Every so often he raised his can of drink and swallowed steadily. If only he’d go on drinking and get really drunk so that he’d fall asleep. Then she could run away. She couldn’t stand the thought of staying shut up with these horrible men day after day. Especially the knife man.

  She heard the chair creak as he stood up. He came padding towards her in his soft trainers. He squatted down in front of her, so that she could see his face properly. It was like a white mask. His cold eyes flickered from side to side as he stared at her. He had his knife in his hand.

  Mary started to shiver.

  The man tapped the knife against his knee in a slow insistent way.

  ‘What am I going to do with you, kid?’ he muttered. ‘Are you going to be worth all the bother and risk?’

  Mary stayed still, struggling not to cry.

  Then she heard the key in the door. Micky was back.

  ‘What are you up to, Bob?’ he asked uneasily.

  ‘I’ve just been doing a little pondering,’ said the knife man. ‘Is that more beer? And some grub?’

  ‘Yeah, hang on, let me get it all organized. I didn’t half feel weird down the shops. Everyone was talking about the robbery and the blind kid. I had to join in, say it was a shame. Oh boy. I was sweating like a pig. You can go out for the grub next, Bob.’

  He bustled around with the cartons of food.

  ‘Here, kid. You like sweet and sour pork and rice? I’ll get you a spoon. I’ve got you some coke to drink. You like that, don’t you? And some chocolate for pudding, eh?’

  ‘Stop fussing round her like a mother hen,’ said the knife man. ‘She don’t need all that.’

  ‘Look, we’ve already frightened the poor little kid half to death. I’m not starving her to death too,’ said Micky.

  ‘I said quit fussing.’

  ‘Who are you to give me orders?’ said Micky.

  They both stood up. Mary crouched down low, scared they were going to start fighting. But a television news bulletin started and they were all distracted.

  This time there was a film of the post office. Mary couldn’t see the screen at all but she heard both Mr and Mrs Soli talking worriedly, telling about the robbery. They even had the old wholemeal bread lady saying how awful it was, and how she felt sorry for the poor little kiddie.

  That’s me! thought Mary. They were talking about her on television.

  ‘Just a little scrap of a thing. Six or seven, not any older,’ said the old lady.

  I’m nine! thought Mary indignantly.

  ‘And totally blind,’ said the old lady.

  I could tell you which bread to get! thought Mary.

  ‘The police are conducting a massive search for the post office robbers and the missing child,’ said the television announcer.

  ‘Phew!’ said Micky shakily, when the announcer switched to another subject. ‘You’re right, Bob. It’s big time now, whether we like it or not.’

  ‘Smack on the national news. And we’ve carried it off! They don’t have a clue who we are and they don’t know where the kid is. So we’re OK for now, like I keep telling you,’ said the knife man, opening another beer and rustling in the paper carton for his Chinese meal.

  Micky fetched Mary a spoon and she did her best to eat although she was still too scared to feel hungry. She drank all her coke though, gulping it down until the can was empty. It tasted wonderful, but ever since the robbery she’d been needing to go to the lavatory and now she became desperate.

  ‘Please,’ she said to Micky.

  ‘You what?’

  Mary struggled to get the words out. She hated having to ask him but she was worried about wetting herself like a baby.

  ‘Oh, I get you. Come on then, I’ll take you,’ said Micky.

  He took her by the hand and carefully steered her round a table and past a chair.

  ‘Just you keep an eye on her, Mary Poppins,’ said the knife man, but he sounded more relaxed now.

  Mary worried that Micky would come right into the bathroom with her, but he waited outside the door.

  I should try to get away right now, thought Mary. Maybe it’s my only chance.

  She used the lavatory first and then stood up on the seat. There was a window. It was only a very small one but she was a very small girl. Maybe she could squeeze right through.

  ‘Are you OK in there?’ Micky called.

  ‘Mmm,’ Mary mumbled.

  She felt the window frame, found the handle. But then she heard the door open and she staggered back, very nearly falling right into the lavatory.

  ‘What on earth are you up to?’ Micky said, catching hold of her.

  ‘I – I was – I was trying to find the chain to pull it,’ Mary stammered.

  ‘Oh. Well, I’ll do it for you. There we go,’ said Micky, and then he lifted her down.

  The chance was gone.

  He led her back into the main room and sat her in a chair.

  ‘Cheer up,’ he said. ‘What’s that long face for? I got you some nice food and drink, didn’t I? Here, you haven’t had your chocolate.’

  Mary ate a square and choked. She started a coughing fit.

  ‘Stop that row,’ said the knife man.

  Mary tried hard. But she’d just had flu and couldn’t help having a cough.

  ‘Right. We’ll put that gag on her,’ said the knife man.

  ‘Here, have another coke,’ said Micky. ‘She don’t need no gag, Bob. She just needs another drink, that’s all.’

  Mary drank. It helped a little. Her throat still tickled unbearably and her chest was tight, but she clamped her lips together. She spluttered a little but she didn’t cough.

  ‘There, that’s better,’ said Micky.

  He sat beside her and chatted for a bit, but he soon got bored. He was drinking a lot of beer too. After a while his voice started to slur. Mary sat still, her hand over her mouth in case she coughed again. They were really getting drunk now. Maybe she still had a chance to run away.

  Micky slumped down beside the chair. His slow steady breathing soon became snores. Mary listened hard for any sounds coming from the man with the knife. He stayed silent. He could be asleep too, but she couldn’t be sure.

&nbs
p; She had a horrible feeling that he was still watching her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Mary sat still and waited. She waited and waited. She was still scared but she was getting so bored too. The television was on but she couldn’t work out what was happening. She didn’t have anything at all to play with. It was so hard to be expected to sit still and do nothing at all for hours on end. She tried twiddling her thumbs, twining her fingers, waggling her hands. She pretended they were two spiders and made them go for walks up and down her legs.

  ‘Quit that fiddling, it’s getting on my nerves,’ said the knife man, making her jump.

  No, he wasn’t asleep. He was still wide awake, watching. Mary sat on her hands to stop them fidgeting. She tried to think of things to do inside her head. She counted up to one hundred. Five hundred. All the way up to a thousand. She thought of all the songs she knew and sang them inside her head. She thought of all her favourite things and made lists of them. She thought of Mum and Dad and Gran… and that was a mistake.

  Tears dripped down her cheeks. She struggled hard but she couldn’t help sniffling.

  ‘Stop that,’ said the knife man.

  She covered her face with her fingers. She cried silently behind her hands until she fell asleep. She had a lot of nightmares. The worst was dreaming two hateful robbers had taken her prisoner. She woke up feeling very frightened.

  It’s all right. It was only a silly dream, she told herself.

  Then she heard the blaring television, the hiss of another beer can being opened – and remembered. The dream was real.

  ‘The kid’s awake,’ said Micky. His voice was so slurred now she could hardly understand what he was saying. ‘You missed out on supper, kid. Fish and chips. There’s still a few chips somewhere. Want some?’

  Mary felt too sick and scared to eat. She huddled in a small ball, sucking her thumb.

  The television was very loud. There was creepy music and then sudden screams. Micky laughed and the knife man snorted several times. They were obviously watching some horror video.

  Mary felt as if she was taking part in her own horror movie. If only she could fast forward herself to the end of the tape and safety!