When I finished my degree in Fashion Design, I couldn’t find a job, but then one day my Mum told me a friend of hers was looking for a baby-sitter.
It wasn’t exactly a dream position. However, as I needed the money, I said yes.
I started working almost straightaway. Mr Hamilton was a widower and had a little daughter called Winnie. Winnie was a lovely five-year-old with emerald green eyes.
We got on really well from the word go. After one month, I asked Mr Hamilton what had happened to his wife.
‘She must have been very young. Was it cancer?’
‘I don’t talk about it,’ he answered in a steely voice. He sounded so different and so detached that for a moment I was scared.
One day, I was upstairs putting some of Winnie’s toys away, when I found a really disturbing picture in one of her drawers. It was a photo of her Mum, but on it she had drawn a skull and a dagger.
When I turned around, Winnie was standing there, looking at me.
‘I did it, you know.’
‘You did what?’ I asked, but deep down I already knew.
‘I killed Mum. She had fallen in love with another man and she was going to leave us. I couldn’t allow that.’
I stared at her as if I had never seen her before and then ran out of the room.
‘So what? Are you going to leave me like all the other babysitters? I thought you were different…’ she shouted as I rushed down the stairs.
I didn’t stop running till I got home.