Escape From Evil - Cathy Wilson [23]
‘Must be the fuse,’ Mum said.
‘What’s a fuse?’
She explained about the plug and said she’d get Grandpa or a friend to fix it. A couple of days later, however, I was at Grandpa’s house and I asked him if he had any spare fuses.
‘Don’t tell me your mother’s going to fix something?’ he said. ‘Wonders will never cease.’
He gave me a couple of fuses and two screwdrivers – one a flat-tip and one a Phillips head. ‘Bring back whichever one you don’t need.’
Not long after that I was back at home and Mum was out. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Then I remembered the new fuses.
It can’t be that hard to fix, I thought.
I got the hang of the screwdriver pretty quickly, then saw where the old fuse was housed. I levered it out with my little tools and popped the new fuse in its place. Then I screwed the backing in place and plugged it into the socket. Hey presto – music!
Not long after, I remember wiring a plug. Nobody told me how to do it; I just looked at another plug and copied what I saw. Can you imagine letting a child play with electricity like that today? Doesn’t bear thinking about. But the most dangerous chore I ever attempted was still to come.
I don’t want it to appear that I was in any way some sort of a slave. I have to stress, I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to. It just so happened that the thing I liked doing the most was helping Mum. If I could have gone out to work instead of her, I’m sure I would have.
It wasn’t so long after the plug change that Mum and I were having an afternoon nap and I was woken by sounds of laughing outside. Mum eventually came round and went to the door. When she opened it, two men just waltzed straight into the lounge.
‘Hey, Jenny, how’s it going?’
Mum didn’t try to stop them, but she didn’t look too pleased either.
They must be her friends, I thought, otherwise how else would they know where we live?
One of the men put his arm around Mum for a cuddle. Then he noticed me.
‘Hello, who’s this?’
‘It’s Cathy,’ Mum said. ‘My daughter.’
‘Hi, Cathy.’ The man smiled, but he looked about as pleased to see me as I was to see him.
Then the other man spoke. ‘I’ve got a job for you, Cathy. Do you want to help me?’
Mum looked shocked.
‘No, she doesn’t!’ For a second I could see she was scared. That made me scared too. Just as quickly, she laughed it off and said carefully, ‘What do you want her to do?’
‘Just a bit of rolling,’ the man replied.
Mum relaxed at that. Whatever it was, it wasn’t as bad as she’d expected. I, on the other hand, didn’t have a clue what anyone was talking about. In the kitchen the man – I’ll call him Mark – pulled out a pouch of tobacco and a packet of Rizla cigarette papers. I’d seen Mum with both, so no surprises there.
‘Now,’ he said, ‘what we’re going to do is roll a nice cigarette for everyone and add a bit of this.’
When he pulled out a small, clear bag I actually gasped. It looked exactly the same as the one I’d been told to secrete in the panda.
‘What if the police find that?’ I said.
Mark laughed. I don’t think he imagined a six-year-old would have any idea what he was showing them. It certainly never occurred to him that I’d know it was illegal. Of course, I didn’t. All I knew is that the police had come looking for that stuff and taken us to the police station because of it. The last thing I wanted was them calling again.
Mark assured me everything was all right and then he very carefully showed me what he wanted me to do. Illegal or not, I loved a challenge. Watching him sprinkle some tobacco and then a pinch of this other stuff into a flat Rizla, licking and rolling it, then adding a little white filter, was hypnotic. When he’d finished he said, ‘Think you can do that?’
‘Easy.’
‘Show me then.’
So I did.
My first go wasn’t the best and