Look into My Eyes. Lauren Child
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HarperCollins Children's Books An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd. 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
First published in 2011
Copyright © Lauren Child 2011
Lauren Child asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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Source ISBN: 9780007334063
Ebook Edition © SEPTEMBER 2011 ISBN: 9780007447428
Version: 2019-02-01
For AD
'If the eyes truly are the window to the soul, then some people would be wise to install blinds' Anya Pamplemous, from her book The Puzzles That Lie Within.
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
There was a girl called Ruby
An Ordinary Kid
Chapter 1. You can never be completely sure what might happen next
Chapter 2. There’s a lot of truth in fiction
Chapter 3. ‘Sounded like dessert’
Chapter 4. Full of nothing
Chapter 5. More of nothing
Chapter 6. Fifteen dollars and forty-nine cents
Chapter 7. Don’t call us we’ll call you
Chapter 8. Getting Lucky
Chapter 9. A small dark space
Chapter 10. The voice
Chapter 11. The eyes followed the hands
Chapter 12. The silent G
Chapter 13. As good as gold
Chapter 14. Don’t erase me
Chapter 15. Strictly confidential
Chapter 16. Don’t look now
Chapter 17. Strange and uneasy
Chapter 18. If in doubt, say nothing
Chapter 19. One little lie
Chapter 20. Unlikely but not impossible
Chapter 21. The blink of an eye
Chapter 22. Don’t breathe a word
Chapter 23. Funny peculiar
Chapter 24. A total yawn
Chapter 25. Some likely suspects
Chapter 26. The little brown box
Chapter 27. A formula for murder
Chapter 28. Secretly super
Chapter 29. A Regular Girl
Chapter 30. Room Service
Chapter 31. When you’re out, you’re out
Chapter 32. The advantage
Chapter 33. Crisp and lean
Chapter 34. ‘They could feed my toes to a pack of vultures but I would never blab’
Chapter 35. Nine Lives
Chapter 36. A colony of vultures
Chapter 37. Time waits for no man
Chapter 38. The sands of time
Chapter 39. Lucky twice
Chapter 40. Look into my eyes
Cat Woman
Acknowledgments
About the Author
About the Publisher
IT WAS A CRISP OCTOBER DAY in Cedarwood Drive and a two-year-old girl was standing on a high stool in front of a huge picture window. She was watching the leaves fall, studying the patterns they made as they whirled their way through the air. Her eyes followed them until her gaze was caught by a single yellow leaf, almost exactly the shape of a hand. She watched as it swooped down into the yard and then sailed up high over the fence and across the street. She watched as it danced up and down in the breeze and then slapped flat onto the windshield of a passing truck.
The truck pulled up in front of old Mr Pinkerton’s grey clapboard house. The driver climbed out, walked up the path and knocked on the door. Mr Pinkerton stepped out onto the porch and the driver produced a map – the two men struck up a conversation.
Exactly one minute later an elegant woman turned the corner, carrying a large green picnic basket. With a glance to the house and the slightest nod from the driver, the woman slipped out of her heels, scooped them up and nimbly scaled Mr Pinkerton’s fence. Mr Pinkerton was busy studying the map and noticed nothing; the child saw everything. Forty-five seconds passed and the woman reappeared: she was carrying the same basket but it looked much heavier than before and its contents seemed to be moving.
The little girl attempted to grab her parents’ attention but since her use of language was still limited she could not get them to understand. She watched as the woman pushed her feet back into her black shoes, walked to the rear of the truck and out of view. Mr Pinkerton chatted on. The