THE UNINVITED
‘normal social graces’. Men like Ashok, my boss at Phipps & Wexman, tend to take me as they find me. Women are different. They see a tall, dark, well-built man with strongly delineated features, and this classic combination triggers something at cellular level: a biological imperative. When they discover my personality is at odds with what they wishfully intuit from my ‘handsomeness’, their disappointment is boundless. It’s often accompanied by a disturbing rage. Ashok once said to me, ‘We’re all liars, bud. It’s human nature.’ No, I thought. He’s wrong. Through a quirk of DNA, I am not part of that ‘we’. I can get obsessive about things. Or sidetracked. I can appear brutal too, I’m told. But I know right from wrong. And I revere the truth. So you will at least find in me an honest narrator. In the days that followed the Harrogate attack, the little girl in blue butterfly pyjamas still refused to speak. GIRL WHO DREAMED OF HEAVEN – AND MADE HELL SICK CHERUB’S SHOTS OF HATE What happened next to the child whose dream about a sparkling white desert gave birth to such lurid headlines? Speculating on the possibilities and their variables, I pictured the family moving to another part of the country, or even abroad, to start a new life. The child would accompany them, if the father could still bear to be around her. If not, they’d install her in a secure home. I’ll admit that I considered the case to be as unique as it was isolated: a thing 9
134h.indd 9
14/05/2012 09:11:58