All the Little Children by Jo Furniss

Author:Jo Furniss [Furniss, Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781542045681
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
Published: 2017-08-31T23:00:00+00:00

Standing on a plant pot to reach the window, I could see the black shape of a body slumped across the reception desk in the waiting room. The telephone hung on its curly cable in front of a poster urging the elderly to get a flu shot. Before I could tell him to stop, Charlie flung himself in a shoulder charge against the surgery door. It withstood his scrawny assault. The double glazing kept the buzz inside, but the onyx blanket that stretched over the body shimmered as the lock clattered, bringing back the taste of bile, the memory of plump flies spattering my skin.

“Round the back,” I said. We gathered our tools and found a window at the rear of the clinic. I slammed the sharp end of the crowbar into the glass, but it bounced off the surface, ricocheting out of my hands. The clangor of echoing metal joined the din in my head.

“Let me try,” said Charlie, his voice even higher than usual, but he could barely lift the sledgehammer. I took it from him, and his hands flopped down and resumed twisting his jogging bottoms into knots. The sledgehammer bounced away, too.

I knew what I would have to do. We went back to the car.

“Get in, Charlie.” I opened the passenger-side door and waved him in. He stepped away and started banging the heels of his clenched hands against his thighs.

“No.”

“You have to wait here.”

“No.” His arms were a blur as he beat his fists on his legs.

“I’ll only be a moment.”

“Don’t go inside with the buzz!”

“I’ll be quiet so the flies don’t get me. That’s why I have to go on my own.”

“You’ll die, just like Peter!” His eyes were glazed with panic. “And then I’ll die too.”

“Charlie.” I crouched down and held both his hands to stop him from beating his own legs. “Look at me, Charlie, look at me with your eyes into my eyes. That’s it. Peter’s not dead. But he’s hurting, and I need to get him some medicine. I’ll be really careful. Now please stay here.”

Before he started up again, I stepped quickly over to the surgery door and busted the lock with the crowbar.

The buzz rose, more languid than I’d seen it before, and settled again without bothering me. But the smell was like nothing I’d known. Instinctively, I turned to run back outside, but Charlie was there on the pavement, twisting his trousers around his fingers and waiting to pounce. So I forced my gorge down and gave him a small wave to show that I was still alive, not overwhelmed by flies. Then I clamped my hand over my mouth and nose, and edged round the waiting room as far away from the body as possible.

The first closed door revealed a consulting room. I went inside and shut it behind me. In a cupboard over the small sink, I found some cotton wool balls, which I dabbed with hand sanitizer and shoved up my nose. I stowed

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