‘And the winner is …’ boomed a voice through the microphone.
Anna clutched Kitty, who clutched OC’s arm.
Nervous that OC might find his head seizing with all the noise and applause, Anna and Kitty accompanied him onto the stage. They were right to do so. Seconds after the cheque had been presented, the organisers asked for a few words.
Anna, muffling the microphone with her hand, whispered, ‘Please don’t ask Philip to speak. Since we lost our parents, my brother can’t speak in public. He’ll break down in tears. I’m terribly sorry. Perhaps I can stand in for him.’
The organisers, a team of three solid citizens (all teachers), glanced doubtfully at the cheery face of their new chess-champion, happily clutching his cheque.
‘If you’re sure. It’s rather a shame. We do like to hear from our winners personally.’
Anna shook her head firmly. ‘I promise you. You don’t want my brother speaking.’ She removed her hand from the microphone and spoke into it. ‘On behalf of my brother, Philip, thank you so much for the cheque. Birmingham is amazing, with amazing shops and we’ve all had an amazing time.’
Kitty, annoyed at being upstaged by her sister, grabbed the microphone, adding, ‘Since Philip’s accident, when our parents were killed, he can’t stand bright lights. Please, only photograph Anna and me. Or, if you really have to, the back of Philip’s head.’
Fortunately, the microphone took to spitting and snarling incoherently at this moment, so none of the audience actually heard Kitty’s extraordinary statement, except for a middle-aged journalist from the Birmingham Post, whose job it was to report on boring events like chess championships. Having two daughters of his own, he was immediately suspicious. Deciding there was a mystery waiting to be solved, he tried to get an interview with the boy in the wheelchair, obviously an important member of the group. He was disappointed. Cash stared at him with total disinterest and lack-lustre eyes. When the reporter asked, how long has Philip been playing chess, he responded in a monotone: I can’t believe they didn’t want me, and refused to say anything further.
The reporter had a rethink and came to the conclusion that the chess-playing wizard was probably the sanest of the quartet. He tried to get an interview with him, only to find Kitty and Anna blocking his path. They were delighted to talk but definitely no one was interviewing their brother. Determined to get his story, he made his way back to the office, pulled open a telephone directory for Bristol and looked up the name: Longbotham.
On the journey home, Cash was silent. Surprisingly, no one noticed; Kitty and Anna deep into a conversation about shopping, while OC was remembering in loving detail all the trees he had seen that morning.
By the time they arrived home, it was almost ten o’clock. Mrs Longbotham was sitting on the bottom step of the stairs, shuffling photographs – very rapidly.
‘And just where have you been?’ she screamed out, when she heard Anna’s key in the lock.
Anna flashed Kitty a worried look. It said: do you think Mum knows?
‘But you knew we’d be late, we told you we’d be out rambling till all hours.’
‘Wearing high heels, I suppose.’
The two girls stared down at their shoes, having forgotten they were supposed to be in jeans and trainers.
Kitty darted a nervous glance at Anna. It said: I think Mum knows!
She smiled brightly. ‘It was so muddy. Anna slipped down a hill and then we changed for dinner.’
‘So, this dinner of yours … Good, was it?’
Kitty nodded. ‘Yeah! Amazing!’
‘And I suppose there was a Debenhams and a Top Shop in the pig pen,’ Mrs Longbotham stormed. ‘Don’t bother to lie. I’ve had a reporter from the Birmingham Post on the phone. Apparently, Phil is an orphan.’
Suddenly remembering, she flashed the picture of herself smiling. ‘Well done, Philip,’ she said, her voice instantly changing to calm and friendly. ‘I understand you are brilliant at chess.’
‘But, you two!’ she yelled. ‘Words fail me!’ She shuffled the photographs again and pulled out number 4.
‘You are grounded indefinitely. In fact I doubt if you will ever be allowed to emerge from your bedrooms, ever again. But have your supper first, I expect you’re hungry.’
‘Sorry, Mum,’ wailed Kitty, dramatically bursting into tears. ‘I promise we’ll never do anything bad again. Please, don’t ground us. There’s the school disco – and we promised, didn’t we, Anna,’ she said sniffing.
Anna nodded, finding it impossible to break into tears to order like Kitty.
‘In any case OC was fine.’ Kitty hiccupped loudly. ‘We took care of him.’
‘You two are the most stupid girls I ever had the misfortune to meet. I’m not worried about Philip. Compared to you … in any case I sewed his name and address inside his jacket. It’s you two! You don’t possess even half a brain cell between you. What would I do if you two disappeared – eh!’
Looking startled and very sheepish the two girls crept into the kitchen, silently eating the spaghetti bolognaise that Mrs Longbotham had been keeping warm for two hours. Fancy Mum being worried about them! They’d never thought of it like that.
As for Cash, his heart was broken. It’s no good saying that medically speaking hearts can’t break – because they can and they do. That’s exactly what happened to Cash’s heart. It split right down the middle. The real men, the people that mattered, the villains he’d dedicated his life to, they didn’t want him. It was a bitter, bitter pill to learn at 12 years’ old that you’re a failure. His delight and pride in his stupendously efficient wheelchair fell apart. What was the point in believing it to be a chariot that could whisk him off into amazing adventures; he was nothing more than a boy in a wheelchair.
He went through the motions of carrying on the business but his heart wasn’t in it. He lost his appetite and dinners on a Saturday became the first casualty. He then began to close the business down, starting with kids from neighbouring secondary schools. He sent them a polite note:
He did give two weeks’ notice but even so the announcement had far reaching effects:
Cash did, somewhat half-heartedly, continue with business in his own school, although he cancelled the deluxe service, no longer interested in forging kids’ handwriting. So, for a few weeks more books were delivered to their rightful owners on Saturday evening, after which Cash returned home, divvyed up the proceeds, plugged in his ear phones, and shut his bedroom door till morning.
OC didn’t understand the concept of worry. If he had, he would have been very worried indeed for his friend. As it was, he accepted the changes cheerily as part of everyday life. Sometimes it’s okay; sometimes it’s not. And this was one of those, it’s not times.
He was still okay for money, having a little over £300 in the bank. From his winnings, he’d given Cash £200, and spent another hundred on fares with £25 each for Kitty and Anna. But that wasn’t the point. Nothing was happening any more. And, without Cash, nothing was likely to happen ever again.
Christmas was fast approaching and so far Mrs Longbotham had not shown the slightest intention of relenting on Anna’s and Kitty’s ban. They discussed it endlessly. To begin with they gave their mother a week.
‘She’ll never hold out, longer than a week,’ said Kitty.
But one week passed. Then two weeks.
‘I’ll give her till the weekend,’ said Anna. ‘I bet she hates us being at home every weekend because we hog the telly. I bet she really, really wants to give in and she’s just being stubborn.’
But the weekend passed and still the ban remained.
‘It’s criminal,’ said Kitty, wanting to cry with vexation. ‘I’m positive if we contacted social services they’d arrest her for cruelty. It’s coming up to Christmas and there’s all sorts of stuff going on. There’s a disco tonight …and we won’t be there,’ she wailed.
‘We have to be,’ said Anna. ‘I’m running out of excuses to tell my
friends. No way am I going to admit I’m grounded. Honestly, Mum is that unreasonable. You’d think, after three weeks of good-behaviour, she’d understand this time we really have changed. Only one thing for it. We have to break out.’
‘How?’
‘We’ll use Phil’s window. Mum had that porch built to stop him climbing down the wall; we can get down there. It’s perfect.’
‘Way to go, Anna. But won’t OC notice?’
‘Not if he’s asleep. If he goes to bed around eight, that’ll give us bags’a time. We can stage-manage a good-old strop and storm off upstairs. Mum’ll never suspect a thing. Then out of the window and … off to the disco.’
Kitty smiled – almost for the first time in three weeks. ‘Great, I can’t wait.’
As for Mrs Longbotham, at long last she was actually looking forward to the weekend, especially Saturday evening when they watched television as a family. She even told her sister.
‘And Phil?’ her sister asked.
‘He’s never any trouble. And he’s so much better … hasn’t had a do for ages.’ Finishing her conversation, Mrs Longbotham put down the phone.
As she came into the sitting room, Anna called out, ‘Phil, you don’t-half look tired. How about an early night?’
Mrs Longbotham glanced down at her watch. It wasn’t even eight thirty … How weird. ‘I’m making coffee. Anyone want anything?’
Kitty swung round flashing a guilty look before burying her head in her magazine, flicking pages over so fast it created a draught. ‘No thanks.’
Mrs Longbotham cast a suspicious eye on Kitty.* They were behaving rather oddly. If she didn’t know better …
Anna drummed her fingers nervously on the arm of her chair. ‘I’m cool.’
As soon as the door closed behind their mother, Kitty rounded on her brother. ‘Honestly, OC, we don’t ask much of you. You could at least go to bed early tonight.’
OC blinked in amazement. ‘I always watch the money programme on Saturday. It’s on in a minute.’
‘No point arguing, Kitty.’ Anna said. ‘You know perfectly well, once Phil makes up his mind about something, it stays made up.’
‘But it’s so unfair,’ Kitty sighed dramatically.
‘I know. It’s rotten. We’ll still get there; we’ll just have to be a bit late that’s all. Bedtime, Phil,’ she sang out, as the credits finally rolled up. ‘You’ll be tired in the morning,’ she added, copying her mother.
‘I saw some trees today, Mum,’ OC chatted. ‘Only they didn’t have any leaves. The ones I saw on the train had leaves. Why is that, Mum?’
Kitty and Anna exchanged horrified glances.
‘Let’s not bother with that now.’ Kitty jumped to her feet. ‘Once you start talking, OC, we’ll still be here at midnight. Remember what the doctor told you about getting overtired. If you like, we can go to the library after school on Monday and get you a book on trees.’
OC nodded. ‘Yes, please. Will it tell me about trees losing their leaves?’
‘Yes, absolutely. Now, how about bed?’
‘In a minute.’
Kitty ground her teeth together.
‘Come on, Phil. Off to bed. It’s bad for you to get overtired,’ Anna said, repeating Kitty’s phrase. ‘You’ll only have a do.’
‘That’s so thoughtful, Anna. Sleep well, Phil,’ Mrs Longbotham gave him a hug.
The door had hardly closed behind OC before Kitty snatched the remote and changed the channel.
‘I’m watching that,’ Anna shouted, snatching it back.
‘Girls, really,’ Mrs Longbotham said with a frown. ‘It was only the news, Anna. You never bother with that.’
‘What you seem to forget, Mother, is that I have exams in the summer and I need to watch the news. Turn it back.’
‘No.’ Kitty snarled, defiantly hiding the remote behind her back. ‘We agreed I choose the channel tonight.’
‘We did no such thing.’ Anna leapt to her feet, her eyes flashing. ‘That’s you all over, Kitty. Like that time you wore my dress, then tried to tell me it was torn already.’
‘You calling me a liar.’
‘You said it, not me!’
‘Girls, girls! Whatever’s got into you? Stop it, right now.’
‘Don’t worry, Mother.’ With a highly theatrical performance worthy of an Oscar, Kitty marched to the sitting room door and flung it open. ‘I’m not staying here to be insulted.’
The door slammed behind her, the vibrations skewing the images on the television and making them flicker.
‘And I’m not staying either. I’m going to bed.’
Dazed, Mrs Longbotham gazed round the empty room, wondering if their house had just been subjected to an earthquake. Because that was the only possible explanation for the extraordinary behaviour of her daughters.
Fifteen minutes later, having grabbed a pre-packed bag containing shoes and clothes suitable for a disco, Kitty and Anna crept across the landing.
‘Lock your door,’ Anna hissed. ‘Just in case Mum wants a bedtime chat. She’s as bad as Phil for that.’
‘Sure he’s asleep?’ Kitty said anxiously.
Anna turned the knob on Philip’s door listening to the silence. ‘Yeah, dead to the world. Come on.’
Next second, the window was open and they were carefully sliding down the porch roof.
OC was lost in a happy dream about playing chess, when it was interrupted by the organiser banging a heavy mallet on his desk. When the banging refused to stop, OC eventually opened his eyes and listened to the darkness. The sound appeared to come from outside his window. Wondering what it could be, he climbed out of bed and drew back the curtains. He was surprised to see Anna’s face glaring at him from the other side of the window.
She mouthed: Open the window now, it’s freezing out here!
Not understanding, OC obligingly opened the window. ‘What did you say?’
‘Doesn’t matter. But thanks, anyway!’
There was a sound on the landing and the light switch clicked on.
‘It’s Mum, quick!’ Anna hissed.
In one swift movement, she had closed the window, pulled the curtains across, so Mrs Longbotham wouldn’t spot Kitty perched on the roof outside, and leapt into bed with her brother, covering her coat with his dressing gown.*
Mum stuck her head round the door. ‘You all right, Phil, I heard a noise?’
‘So did I.’ Anna smiled. ‘It was Phil. He was having one of his horrid nightmares. I thought I’d stay with him till he felt better.’
‘That’s kind of you, Anna. You haven’t had one of those for ages, have you, Philip?’
‘Yes,’ he said, feeling his breath vanish with all the confusion.
Anna noticed it too. ‘Look what you’ve done now, Mum,’ she accused. She thumped her brother’s back. ‘Come on, Phil, breathe, breathe, breathe!’
OC took a deep breath. ‘Hello, Anna. What are you doing in my bed?’
Anna gave a silent groan. She eyed Mrs Longbotham, who was dithering between staying to check on her son and going back to bed where it was warm.
‘He’s fine, Mum. I’ll deal with it. No bother,’ she said and smiled sweetly. At that moment her entire body gave a huge shiver, still cold from its exposure on the roof.
‘Anna?’
‘It’s my nerves.’ Anna gave a half-smile. ‘Take no notice, I don’t. You know, Mum, Kitty and me, we’re so lucky not to have a head that seizes like Phil’s.’
‘You’re such a thoughtful child, Anna. Well, goodnight.’
As soon as she heard her mother’s door close, Anna leapt out of bed and slid the window open. To make sure Kitty knew not to make a single sound, she pursed her lips and held both index fingers against them.
It was by this time probably two o’clock in the morning and Jack Frost had been busy, covering everything in the street including Kitty with a thick coating of white.
OC stared at her hat and scarf, the wool sparkling in the li
ght, the mascara on her eyes twinkling like stars. He frowned. ‘How did you get there, Kitty, did you fall out of the window?’
‘I was sleepwalking,’ she returned in a whisper.
‘How interesting,’ OC sat up in bed, eager for a comfortable chat with his sisters. ‘I have a book about sleepwalking. It says that sleepwalkers can’t feel anything. Is that true?’
Kitty scowled at him. ‘Shush! You’ll wake Mum. Go back to sleep, can’t you.’
‘But what about sleepwalkers?’
‘Kitty, do hurry,’ Anna whispered. Kitty flapped her hand in the air telling her to be quiet.
‘Look, OC,’ she snapped, her glare not unlike that of a wolf at bay. ‘I am not answering any questions tonight. I’m freezing and I want my bed. Ask me in the morning.’
‘I won’t remember in the morning,’ he protested.
‘Exactly! Goodnight.’
And Kitty closed the door.
The following morning at breakfast, Mrs Longbotham announced she was cancelling the ban.
‘Girls,’ she smiled. ‘I was so impressed with Anna last night. You really are becoming quite responsible, dear. I think perhaps I can trust you again. What do you think, Phil?’
‘Kitty was sleepwalking, and fell out of the window. She had to climb over the roof to get in. And it was really cold, so she was all sparkly. And even though sleepwalkers don’t feel the cold – she was freezing.’
‘Oh dear, Phil,’ Mum said, patting his hand. ‘You did have a bad nightmare didn’t you?’
Kitty silently let out the breath she’d been holding.
The Amazing Brain of O C Longbotham Page 9