In Safe Hands. J. P. Carter
Читать онлайн.| Название | In Safe Hands |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | J. P. Carter |
| Жанр | Ужасы и Мистика |
| Серия | A DCI Anna Tate Crime Thriller |
| Издательство | Ужасы и Мистика |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn | 9780008313289 |
Tasha Norris loved her job as a nursery school teacher. Watching the children at play always filled her with a deep sense of wellbeing.
Today was no exception. There were only nine of the little mites in this morning, but their squeals and laughter had already lifted her spirits. They were so entertaining, so happy, and so excited to have been let loose in the nursery’s bright and airy playroom.
Tasha’s colleague, Paige, was trying to get them together so that they could listen to the first story of the day. But as usual, they weren’t taking any notice.
Four-year-old Grace was lost in a world of her own as she pretended to cook a meal on the toy stove, concentrating hard as she boiled a wooden egg in a little saucepan. And five-year-old Sahib was too busy racing around the room on a red fire engine to pay the teacher any attention. Meanwhile, Daniel and Liam, both aged three, were fully focused on seeing who could build the highest tower using wooden bricks. Little Molly sat at a table next to them, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings as she worked on her latest masterpiece – a painting of her entire family, including mum, dad, brother and pet goldfish Flipper.
Just being here with them made Tasha realise yet again how much she wanted a child of her own. She and Steve had been married for less than a year, so she had to try and be patient. Aged twenty-three, Tasha knew she had plenty of time to keep trying, and in the meantime she would enjoy looking after other people’s children. She couldn’t imagine doing anything else for a living, and she was so grateful to Sarah Ramsay for taking her on seven months ago. Tasha had loved every minute of every working day. And she’d learned so much about toddlers, tantrums and those tearful confessions that challenge you to keep a straight face.
Paige was now clapping her hands to get the children’s attention. But the only one who responded was four-year-old Simone, who rushed into the large plastic playhouse while shouting, ‘You can’t catch me, you can’t catch me.’
As always, getting all the kids to stop what they were doing became a team effort. Emma, the other teacher on duty, tried to coax Sahib off the fire engine after he rammed it into one of the doors. And Tasha played her part by trying to convince Molly that her picture was finished and she should leave it to dry.
Sarah emerged from her office to help out. She was the owner of the Peabody Nursery chain and the most experienced at dealing with groups of pre-schoolers. To Tasha she was the perfect role model. She’d built up a successful business doing what she enjoyed and went to great lengths to make the staff as well as the children feel comfortable.
‘It’s time for a story, boys and girls,’ she said aloud. ‘Who wants to know what happens to the naughty monkey?’
Two of the children reacted by jumping up and down on the spot. Three others put their hands in the air but carried on with what they were doing. The rest ignored her.
‘I see we’re in for one of those mornings,’ she said with a broad smile. ‘It must be the warm weather.’
Before she could try again she was distracted by the sound of the front doorbell ringing.
‘Do you want me to go and answer it?’ Tasha asked, having persuaded Molly to stand up and step away from her paints.
Sarah shook her head. ‘No, I’ll get it. You carry on trying to round up the little munchkins.’
It didn’t take long. As soon as a couple of them were sitting cross-legged in front of the storyteller’s chair, the others followed suit. Tasha volunteered to be this morning’s reader, and Emma handed her the book that had been chosen by one of the children.
But just as Tasha was about to begin reading, Sarah came back into the room with several visitors in tow. And from the look on her boss’s face, Tasha sensed straight away that something was wrong.
Minutes later, the nightmare began.
It was a quiet morning so Detective Chief Inspector Anna Tate was taking the opportunity to get to grips with the pile of paperwork on her desk. There were witness statements, forensic reports, and dozens of crime scene photographs.
All the documents and pictures related to the eleven ongoing cases that were being dealt with by the Major Investigation Team based in Wandsworth, South London.
The