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"Of course," the woain, their presence suddenly filling the house Jazz lay there, turning over what they had said I saw to itdownstairs," the uard this door anyo down"
Jazz listened to the uard this door anymore
There were uishable
Is she definitely ?
"Mum," Jazz whispered, and the world seemed to sway
She closed her eyes and breathed deeply several times, then stood and crept fro, feeling the air part around her and guide her along She knehere every creaking floor-board was, and she didn't make a sound
Her mother's bedroom door was closed, and there was a smear of blood on the handle
It was ser--but she saw it instantly Her heart thulanced downstairs There was no one at the botto up, but she could still hear their voices elsewhere in the house
What have you done tothe door, stepping inside, and seeing what they had done And also s it, be-cause so ive way She grasped the handle and locked her elbow so she did not fall Then she closed her eyes
But sos can never be unseen
Herdown so that her head rested on the floor A line had been slit across her throat, a dark grin gaping
I saw to it ely numb Her heart haical, already plotting out the next few minutes Back to her room, the phone, the po-lice, up into the attic to await their arrival, listen to the Uncles and that Blacko as the sirens approached
And then she saw the writing on the floor At first she thought it was a spray of blood, but now she could see the words there, and she iined the determination her mother must have had to write them while blood spewed from her throat
Jazz hide forever
She bit back a cry, steeled herself against the tears
Her lazed eyes
Jazz looked at the words again, then glanced at the stair-case to her left and started backing away
As she reached her own door, she realized that she'd left her mother's bedroom door open They'd notice, know she'd been here
She darted back across the landing and closed the door Her last sight of her ed with tears
The words on the floor shouted at her even when the door was closed
Jazz hide forever
She had always listened to herhatch in her bedroom, Jazz wondered what kind of life those words had doo as ducks drifted back and forth on the pond, squabbling over thrown bread and scolding the moorhens
"Pity there aren't any swans," her raceful and beautiful"
"They entle, but they're hard as nails" Her mother shuffled closer to her on their picnic blanket The re-mains of their lunch lay beside the unwanted attention from wasps and flies "If there were swans here, we'd have a full hierarchy Sould be the rulers of the pond, ducks below theers, the little birds, like that wren over there" She pointed to a tiny bird hopping frorew out over the water
"So what are we?" Jazz asked Even then she was a per-ceptive girl, and she knew that this conversation was edging toward so
"We're the little birds," her mother said She smiled, but it was sad
"I think you're a swan," Jazz said, flooded by a sudden feeling of coed "Maybe you," she said "One day, rass and hopped across to the edge of the pond It started worrying at a lump of bread that the other birds seeht it to the attention of the mallards A duck splashed fros raised and head down, bill snapping The wren turned and hopped away slowly, alnity
The duck took the bread
"Wise thing," her mother said "If you're on the run, you never run unless you know they're right behind you"
"Why?"
"You never call attention to yourself" Heraround the park as though waiting for soht behind you
Jazz was afraid that if she did start running, she'd brain herself on a la her best not to cry -- that would draw attention--but the pressure and heat be-hind her face was i the po-lice fro until they arrived But she had known that if she paused any longer, she would neverthe length of Barker's garden, hurrying along the alley-way, e more distance between her and her , because whenever her eyes closed she saw the blood and that twisted, splayed body that had once been her mother
That woman slit her throat Cut her and left her to bleed to death! And they had been waiting for Jazz to come home