Then: ‘Ouch! Get off me.’
It was clear this time that the voice was high-pitched – a child’s. To Lisa’s ear, well-practised from seven years at primary school, it definitely sounded like a boy.
‘I can see you there in the bush,’ she said. ‘What are you: some kind of peeping Tom, having a laugh at my expense? My dad’s a policeman, you know. I’ll report you to him, shall I? You won’t be laughing then.’
‘No, please don’t,’ the voice replied from the bush. ‘I’m not spying on you or laughing.’
‘Why are you hiding in that bush, then? Come out here and show yourself.’
There was a pause before the reply. ‘I can’t.’
‘Fine. I’ll go and get my dad.’
‘No! Please, I’m begging you.’
Lisa was surprised how well her empty threat was working. She had no idea what this boy looked like, never mind his name or where he lived. And what were the odds of her being able to bring her dad back here in time to catch him? Whoever he was, he obviously wasn’t very bright. How else could you explain it?
‘Show yourself,’ she said. ‘Final warning.’
‘Okay, okay. Give me a second.’
There was some more rustling, another ‘ouch’ and then a beetroot head appeared, peering out from one side of the bush, mole eyes beneath a shock of dark curly hair.
‘There you are,’ Lisa said to the boy, who looked a little younger than her eleven years. ‘That wasn’t so difficult, was it? So why don’t you come properly out, then?’
He shook his head vigorously, causing his chubby cheeks to wobble from side to side. ‘I can’t, seriously. Please don’t make me.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you can. What—’
‘I’m not wearing any clothes, okay,’ he blurted out, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. ‘They stole them – and my glasses. I can barely even see you, whoever you are.’
Lisa couldn’t believe what she was hearing – and yet she knew without doubt that this boy was telling the truth. The pain in his voice was all too real. Then there was the look of misery and shame on his face. The look of a victim. Suddenly everything had changed.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I had no idea. Who did this to you?’
‘Some boys from my class at school. They invited me out to play with them. I thought they were being nice at last. I should have known better.’
‘So have they left you totally, um, naked?’ Lisa asked, feeling her own cheeks burning.
‘I’m in my pants and socks,’ he replied.
Lisa let out a quiet sigh of relief. ‘Any idea what they did with the rest of your stuff?’
He shook his head. ‘Not a clue.’
‘Why were you crying out before? It sounded like you were in pain.’
‘I was. I still am. There are some nettles back here that I stung my legs on, and quite a few creepy-crawlies.’
‘Oh dear.’
‘It’s my glasses I’m most bothered about. My mum will kill me when she finds out. I only just got them. They were a gift for finishing primary school.’
This got Lisa’s attention. ‘Wait. Do you start secondary school next month?’
‘Yes.’
‘You must be eleven like me. I’m Lisa, by the way. What’s your name?’
‘Elliot.’
‘Nice to meet you, Elliot. I’m new in the village.’
‘Oh, are you the girl who’s moved into Christopher’s house?’
‘I think that was the name of the boy who lived there before us. Did you know him?’
‘Yes. He was my best friend.’
Lisa wasn’t sure how to reply. She almost felt like apologising, but of course that would be ridiculous. It was hardly her fault. She’d never have moved here in the first place, if she’d had her way. She felt sorry for Elliot, though. The pickle he was in put her wet jeans and trainer into context. She decided to help him.
‘Okay, Elliot. What can I do to get you out of here?’
A few minutes later she arrived back home, panting after running all the way. She burst through the front door without saying a word and headed straight for her bedroom.
‘Lisa, is that you?’ her mum called from downstairs.
‘Yes,’ she shouted back. ‘I forgot something. I’ll be heading out again in a second.’
She rummaged through her clothes, many of which were still in boxes, looking for something suitable. Elliot was shorter than her, from what she’d been able to make out, but he also looked a bit plump and boys usually had larger feet than girls. Eventually she came across a large yellow T-shirt, which Mum had bought her to wear as a nightie, plus a baggy pair of grey jogging bottoms. They’ll do, she thought, throwing them into a rucksack along with a big pair of hand-me-down flip-flops she’d received from a cousin but never worn.
‘Why don’t you take your brother out with you?’ Mum called. ‘He could do with some fresh air.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Lisa said under her breath. She grabbed the bag and raced past the closed door of Jamie’s bedroom, heading downstairs before he had the chance to emerge.
‘Bye!’ she shouted as she passed the kitchen, where Mum was on her hands and knees loading something into the back of a large corner cupboard. She thought she heard her say something in reply but pretended not to, continuing on her way.
Shortly afterwards, having passed another couple of dog walkers going the other way, Lisa returned to the spot where she’d left Elliot hiding. ‘I’m back,’ she said. ‘I’ll find somewhere to jump across the stream, shall I? Then I can give you these clothes.’
Elliot’s head reappeared, eyes wide with terror at the suggestion. ‘No, don’t do that. Can’t you throw them over to me?’
Imagining herself in the same situation, Lisa understood why Elliot didn’t want her to see him virtually naked. ‘Yes, that’s fine,’ she replied. Removing the rucksack from her shoulders, she moved to the very edge of the stream and tried a few practice swings in the right direction. ‘Right, I think I can make it. I’m going to aim straight for the middle of the bush. On three, okay? One … two … three.’
She threw the bag as best as she could, getting it across the water at least, but not as far as Elliot. It caught in the low-hanging branch of a nearby tree, a metre or so in front of the bush where he was hiding.
‘Sorry,’ she said as
