When I Wasn't Watching. Michelle KellyЧитать онлайн книгу.
finally got a smile out of the boy. The shoplifting seemed irrelevant now, but even so he put on his best authoritative voice, then winced at how damn old he sounded.
‘I trust I won’t be seeing you again under these circumstances?’
Ricky just shrugged and then, at a furious glance from Lucy, shook his head with vehemence.
‘’Course not. Promise. Mum, can I go back out now?’
‘No. You can go back up to your room please. I’ll come and talk to you when the inspector has gone.’
Ricky glared at her but obeyed, the thump of his trainers on the stairs leaving no ambivalence as to exactly how he felt about his confinement. Matt set his cup down again, knowing this was his cue to leave but not wanting to go. He turned to her before he walked out of her front door, his eyes lingering on her full mouth just for a moment, but long enough that she noticed and a corner of that mouth turned up wryly.
‘Thank you, I’m glad you were there. I’ll have a word with him; it’s really not like him at all.’
‘He’s just a kid. Still, if you would like me to have a more thorough word with him, or if there’s anything I can do…’ he trailed off, feeling suddenly ridiculous. He had never been tongue-tied around a woman, but this was far from a usual situation. When Lucy disappeared behind the door he had to wonder if he had offended her, then she was back, pressing a piece of paper into his hand.
‘My phone number. In case you think of anything you can do.’
She was definitely flirting, there was no mistaking it. Matt smiled at her and pocketed the number before he walked back to his car, feeling unsettled again He looked back as he opened the driver’s door, expecting her to still be watching, but the door was closed.
***
When he first saw the man watching him playing in the garden, he wanted to go and talk to him, because he looked so sad. Maybe he wanted to play, but was too shy to ask, just like when he had gone to nursery and wanted to play in the sandpit with the bigger boys. But Mummy had told him not to talk to strangers so he didn’t, even though the man didn’t look like the bad men Mummy worried about, the ones like the baddies on TV. This man just looked sad.
Perhaps it would be okay if he asked him his name, because if you knew someone’s name then they weren’t a stranger were they? But then the man had gone, and he decided he should ask Mummy first anyway, because she would know what to do. He would ask her at tea time.
Except, by the time he was ready for tea and saw that he had his favourite fish fingers, he had forgotten all about it.
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