Like This, for Ever

part of it.
    ‘That’s just the butterfly,’ said Hatty. ‘Shit, it could be anywhere.’
    ‘Jump up and down,’ instructed Jorge. ‘It’s probably caught on something.’
    As Hatty jiggled, making the steel beneath them twang and groan, Barney stood up and rolled down the ramp. Keeping his eyes down, he made his way up and down it several times. No sign of the lost earring.
    ‘I have to go,’ said Sam. ‘I still haven’t done that friggin’ field-trip write-up.’
    Hatty announced that she was leaving too.
    ‘Me and Harvey will walk you,’ said Jorge, as the brothers rolled down the ramp to join Barney. ‘There’s a perv around, remember?’
    ‘A perv that kills boys,’ replied Hatty, whose face was still twisted with disappointment at the loss of the earring. ‘What you trying to say?’
    ‘And just what part of “Bring your brother straight home” did you not understand?’
    The gang practically jumped in unison. They’d been so fixated on the detective watching them from beyond the gates that they’d completely failed to notice the other woman, who’d appearedin the yard without any of them, even Barney, seeing her.
    ‘How did you get in?’ said Harvey, turning to check the gates.
    ‘Jorge weighs more than I do,’ the small, silver-haired woman replied, ‘and is an inch taller. If he can squeeze through a gap in the railings, so can I.’ She looked round the yard, at the high walls, the dark building, the gates. ‘Why do I get the feeling you lot aren’t supposed to be in here?’
    ‘You said you were working,’ said Jorge.
    Jorge and Harvey’s mother was a freelance photographer. Sometimes she stayed out all night, on call at the offices of a news agency, and Harvey and Jorge were left in the care of their elderly grandmother. Their dad, who’d been a war correspondent for the BBC, had died before Harvey was born.
    ‘The job’s over,’ replied his mother. ‘And so is this little party. Goodnight, everyone. Straight home now.’
    The brothers and Hatty said their goodbyes before making their way across the yard behind Jorge and Harvey’s mum.
    ‘You coming?’ Lloyd asked Barney.
    Barney nodded. ‘My dad’ll be on my case if I’m much later,’ he said. ‘I’m just going to have a quick look for Hatty’s earring. See you.’
    Alone, Barney made one last circle of the yard, steering clear of the Indian village. The rain of earlier had made for a narrow drain that ran around the edge. Barney moved slowly, following the flow of the rainwater, until the pipe disappeared underground and an iron grille held back debris. Then he stopped blinking and let his eyes lose their focus. The patterns always took longer at night, but after a moment or two they came. And there it was. Clinging to the underside of a Mars wrapper. He bent, picked the wrapper from the drain and rescued Hatty’s earring.
    Beaming, Barney looked round, having for a moment completely forgotten that the others had gone. He’d never been alone in the community centre before. He hadn’t realized quite how high the walls were, or how dark the shadows beneath them became when there was no one around to distract him. He was looking directly at the painted face of a long-haired girl on the opposite wall. She sat on a rock, in the middle of the ocean. She was smilingat him, not in a pleasant way, and her strange green eyes seemed to say that she knew a secret, and she was only biding her time before she told.
    A sudden rustle behind him made him jump. The wind, which normally couldn’t make it past the walls, was blowing a crisp packet around. Time to go. He left the yard and skated round to the main street. Maybe he’d get a chance to give the earring back to Hatty when they were alone. He’d reach out and gently push it into the hole in her left ear.
    ‘Barney!’
    He jumped again as though he’d been shot. He hadn’t noticed the policewoman approaching, had forgotten about her completely.
    ‘Hi,’ she said, when she’d reached him. ‘You on your way home?’
    He nodded.
    ‘We should go together,’ she said. ‘It’s pretty dark.’
    ‘OK,’ he agreed. He could move at a walking pace if he wanted to, although in fairness, she didn’t hang around. She was taller than he, and thin, with long hair scraped back into a ponytail. She never seemed to care what she looked like. On the other hand, she always seemed to look OK.
    ‘Are you on duty?’ he asked after they’d walked halfway down the