by Simon Mason
‘He is in trouble, isn't he, Will?' Lucy whispered, but Will didn't say anything.
Lucy wished she could do something to help. Dad had been searching the streets, and Will had been up on the roof – well, almost – but Lucy had been too scared to do anything. She found herself thinking about Pokehead instead, trying to imagine what she'd been doing that evening, before she disappeared. Lucy began to make up a story in her head about Pokehead being babysat by Dad.
In her story, Dad told Pokehead to go to bed but she didn't want to, so she played by herself round the house, little games she made up on her own, quiet, creeping games because she didn't want Dad to catch her. Anyway, Dad was watching television. Pokehead played going out to the shops, and going visiting, and being a princess telling all her tiny people what to do. But Timothy and Elizabeth were already asleep, so there was no-one to play with, and as she played and played, she got tireder and tireder.
When Lucy had thought all these things, the police arrived. She could see the blue light on top of their car flashing through the glass panes in the front door. Dad went out and talked to them on the front path, and Will went downstairs so he could hear what they were saying.
Lucy went back to her story. If she was Pokehead playing by herself in the quiet house, and getting tireder and tireder, she wouldn't have gone outside, not even if Dad was busy watching television. She would have curled up somewhere warm to go to sleep. Where would she have gone? She'd have gone to bed. But her own bed wouldn't have been as warm and friendly as Timothy's or Elizabeth's.
Lucy went into Pokehead's room, trying to imagine being Pokehead feeling sleepy, and climbed up the bunk-bed ladder. Timothy was asleep on his back, and the duvet was bunched round him, and Lucy could see at once that there was no-one in bed with him. She stood there looking at Timothy, thinking that if she was Pokehead she'd crawl in, and burrow and snuggle up with him, to get warm, now that she'd stopped playing by herself in the cool, quiet house.
As she stood there on the ladder, she heard other voices downstairs. Ben and Philippa were back from their party, and Ben was saying, ‘What sort of problem exactly?'
As she was listening to the voices, she saw Timothy make a funny movement in bed. It was funny because he moved and didn't move at the same time. She looked hard. Timothy was very still, lying on his back and not moving at all, just breathing heavily with his mouth open. But the duvet was moving round him. Lucy put out her hand and felt it, and it wasn't soft and flat, but hard and lumpy and hot. Suddenly the duvet gave a sigh. As quickly as she could, she undid some of the poppers, and inside the duvet cover was Pokehead, fast asleep.
Lucy was so excited she nearly fell off the ladder. She scrambled down, and ran across the landing. She could hear Ben and the policeman and Dad all talking below, and she knew she shouldn't interrupt, but she stood at the top of the stairs and shouted, ‘I've found her! I've found Pokehead, and she's fast asleep inside the duvet cover, where she crept to get warm when she stopped playing in the cold house, and did up the poppers again, because it's always friendlier with two!'
When the Quigleys got home it was midnight, but Mum had woken up, and they all got into Mum and Dad's bed, and had hot chocolate, and Dad and Will and Lucy told her about Pokehead. Dad said that Will was as brave as a lion for going up to look on the roof, and that Lucy was the cleverest girl in the world for knowing where Pokehead was.
‘But how did you know?' Mum said, and Lucy told her about pretending to be Pokehead, and about how it was always friendlier in bed with two, but she was so tired she couldn't keep awake, and she kept yawning, and forgetting what she was saying.
‘Will's asleep,' Dad said.
‘I think Lucy is too,' Mum said.
‘No, I'm not,' Lucy said, but she wasn't sure if she said it out loud or just in her head, she was so tired. But she heard Mum say, ‘I think they can stay here tonight.' And she heard Dad say, ‘If it's friendlier with two, think how friendly it is with four.'
And ten minutes later all the Quigleys were asleep in Mum and Dad's bed.
Lucy
The Quigleys were invited to a wedding, and Lucy was asked to be bridesmaid.
‘Bridesmaid!' Dad said. ‘Just think of that, Poodle. Being a bridesmaid is an extremely important job.'
‘I know that,' Lucy said. Lucy was a good girl, but she hated being told what to do, and sometimes she was stubborn. All the Quigleys could be a little stubborn.
‘You'll have a special dress to wear, and ribbons for your hair, and probably a bouquet of flowers to carry.'
‘Yes, I know,' Lucy said impatiently.
‘And you'll have to walk down the aisle behind the bride, and be her special helper, and do all the things she asks you to do.'
‘I know all that,' Lucy said. ‘Stop going on!' She was quite angry, and she ran upstairs, to teach Dad a lesson.
Later in the week Mum and Lucy met Madeleine, the bride-to-be, to discuss the bridesmaids' outfits. Madeleine was one of Mum's best friends. She had red hair, which she dyed herself, and her house was all yellow and green. Lucy liked Madeleine's hair, and she liked her house, but she didn't like her bridesmaids' dresses.
While Lucy sat there, Mum and Madeleine talked about the dresses, and Madeleine showed Mum lots of pictures and patterns. The dresses were going to be navy blue taffeta, with puff sleeves, and a sea green sash round the middle, and a stiff net petticoat, and there were going to be matching ribbons for the hair, and little baskets of flowers to carry.
‘It sounds gorgeous,' Mum said. ‘Doesn't it, Lucy?'
Lucy shook her head. Mum gave Lucy a warning look. Madeleine, who didn't have children of her own, and wasn't as firm as she should be, said, ‘What do you want, Lucy?'
Lucy thought for a moment. ‘I want to be a bee,' she said.
They looked at her.
‘A bee?'
‘A bee, with yellow and black stripes, and wings, and wagglers on its head.'
Madeleine began to laugh, and Mum said quickly, ‘Not at the wedding, Poodle. Not in the church.'
Lucy nodded.
‘Not really,' Mum said soothingly. ‘We can make you a bee costume for another time.'
Lucy shook her head.
Madeleine laughed again, and said that Lucy could be a bee if she really wanted to, and Mum said firmly, ‘Of course not, Lucy really wants to wear the gorgeous blue dress in church, don't you, Poodle?' She gave her another warning look, and Lucy shook her head furiously, because they'd laughed at her, and then they went home.
For quite a while after this, Mum didn't mention the bridesmaid's dress. But one Saturday morning at the beginning of September, she asked Lucy to go into town with her to buy some material.
‘What material?' Lucy asked.
‘Well,' Mum said. ‘For the bridesmaid's dress.'
Lucy ran upstairs, and Mum followed her. After ten minutes or so, she came down and sent Dad up. Ten minutes later, he came down.
‘She wants to be a bee,' he said.
‘I know that,' Mum said. ‘But she can't be a bee. It's not that sort of wedding, it's going to be very smart. And Madeleine's paying for all the material.'
‘Oh,' Dad said.
‘Think of the photographs,' Mum said. ‘You'll have to talk to Lucy. Talk her out of the bee thing.'
Dad looked distracted. ‘I'll try,' he said. Later in the morning, Dad and Lucy went to the park to feed the ducks.
‘About this bee thing,' Dad began casually, and Lucy immediately ran to the furthest side of the boating pond, where she stayed until Dad shouted to her that he wouldn't talk about it again.
Then they went to the lake to throw in their bread.
‘Don't eat it, Poodle,' Dad said.
There were mallards, swans, moorhens, coots and grebes on the water; the grebes stayed shyly in the middle of the lake, keeping their distance, but the other birds came towards them straightaway.
‘At least don't eat the blue bits,' Dad said to Lucy, after a whil
e.
As they were feeding the ducks, an elderly lady came along the path with a child the same age as Lucy. When she saw Dad, she waved and made her way towards them.
Dad waved back. ‘Lucy, who's this?' he said out of the corner of his mouth. Dad had an embarrassing problem with people's names: he couldn't remember them. He couldn't even remember the names of people he knew well. And when he forgot the name of someone whose name he really ought to know, because for instance they were one of his best friends, he panicked. Whenever he could, he turned to Lucy for help, because she remembered everything about people.
‘Quick,' he whispered. ‘Before she gets here.'
‘Ruth,' Lucy said. ‘You know Ruth, Dad. She's Madeleine's mum. You remember, who's getting married.'
Smiling and gently waving at Ruth, Dad spoke in a fast, squashed voice: ‘Ruth, of course, yes. And her granddaughter, what's her name?'
‘Lottie.'
‘Lottie, yes, yes. Isn't there someone else?'
‘Sandy, her brother.'
‘Sandy. Good. And what about their mother? Quickly, Poodle.'
‘Sophie, Dad. Madeleine's sister.'
By this time Ruth had almost reached them, and Dad called out in his friendliest voice, ‘Ruth, how are you? How's Lottie? Sandy not with you today? Sophie's working, I suppose.'
Lucy played shops with Lottie behind an ornamental stone, while Dad talked to Ruth, and after they went, Dad said to her, ‘Thanks, Poodle. You saved me. I really rely on you. You're a very good girl.' He gave her a big hug, and then he said, ‘Now, about the bee thing …' And Lucy ran home ahead of him, and wouldn't speak to him for ages and ages, to make sure he knew he'd done something very wrong.
Mum asked Dad if he'd talked Lucy into the bridesmaid's dress, and Dad said he'd certainly made a start.
‘We've got two months,' Mum said. ‘She can be stubborn, but she can't be stubborn for two months, can she?'
Mum thought it best if she made the bridesmaid's dress without Lucy's help. But one afternoon, Lucy saw Mum cutting out the taffeta on the floor in the front room.
‘What's that?' she asked.
‘It's a special dress,' Mum said. ‘Do you like it?'
Lucy looked at it for a while. ‘It doesn't look special to me,' she said. ‘It looks like that horrid bridesmaid's dress.'
Mum tried treats. She said that if Lucy would wear the navy blue bridesmaid's dress at Madeleine's wedding, she'd buy her a pair of roller skates, and Lucy said she hated roller skating. Mum said she'd take her to the café at the Museum of Modern Art for hot chocolate, and Lucy said she hated hot chocolate, which she didn't.
‘Well, what do you want then?' Mum said.
Lucy said she wanted to be a bee.
After this, Mum tried threats. She said that if Lucy didn't wear the navy blue taffeta bridesmaid's dress at Madeleine's wedding, she couldn't expect to be taken to a Christmas show. Lucy just scowled.
‘And I don't even know if I can buy you a lovely bee costume after the wedding,' Mum said.
Lucy scowled so hard she couldn't see.
‘Don't do that,' Mum said. ‘You look like Will.'
So Lucy ran upstairs instead, and squeezed into the space between her bed and the wall, and covered herself with a blanket from her doll's pram, which is what she always did when she was very upset. It comforted her, she didn't know why. It was a bit like disappearing.
Downstairs Mum was talking to Dad. Lucy heard Mum say, ‘Thank God she doesn't actually have a bee costume.'
After a while, Lucy wriggled out of her hiding place, and went over to the bottom shelf in Will's wardrobe, where they kept the dressing-up clothes, and began to search through it.
When Dad came up later, she was sitting on a pile of clothes, trying to cut up one of Mum's old jumpers with a pair of plastic stationery scissors.
‘You won't get far with those, Poodle,' Dad said. ‘They're for cutting paper. I'll get you a proper pair from Mum's sewing box.'
He came back with a large pair of shears which Mum had said Lucy should never ever use. ‘Be careful with them,' he said.
‘What are you making?'
‘Nothing,' she said.
Over the next few days, Mum and Dad got used to finding Lucy with the dressing-up clothes, cutting them up or trying to stick them together. Sticking them together was especially difficult. Sellotape didn't work very well, nor did Blu-tack or the white glue from the toy cupboard. The flour and water paste which they used for papier maché models didn't work at all. In the end, Lucy asked Mum to teach her how to sew. She learned how to pin the material together, and anchor the thread securely, and push the needle through and pull it out the other side, weaving it in and out, in and out. ‘Like a fish with a tail,' she said to Mum.
After that she was very busy. When she wasn't sewing, she was hunting round the house, asking Mum for odds and ends of things: pipe cleaners, rolls of crêpe paper (‘It has to be yellow'), conkers, elastic and chopsticks.
At about the same time, Mum discovered that Lucy had stopped being difficult about the bridesmaid's dress. She still didn't like it, but she was prepared to answer simple questions, such as ‘Do you want the sash to have a bow at the back or not?' (‘Not') or ‘What colour buttons do you want, navy blue or sea green?' (‘Sea green').
‘I think she's finally coming round,' Mum said to Dad.
Every few days, when she was sure noone would disturb her, Lucy got out the things she'd made and tried them on. She was very pleased with them. But there were still some things she hadn't been able to make. And for these she knew she needed to think harder.
The next day Lucy came in from the park, limping.
‘My wellingtons are too small,' she said. Dad felt them. ‘I think there's still a bit of room in them, Poodle,' he said.
‘No,' Lucy said firmly. ‘They hurt. You told me to tell you if my shoes start to hurt, and now I'm telling you, and you're not even listening to me.'
‘OK, OK,' Dad said. ‘We'll get you a new pair of wellingtons. We've got to go to town today anyway.'
The first shop they went into had Barbie wellingtons, Winnie-the-Pooh wellingtons, dinosaur wellingtons and Aladdin wellingtons. Lucy said she didn't like any of them. The second shop had glow-in-the-dark wellingtons, sparkly wellingtons and wellingtons shaped like frogs.
‘No,' Lucy said.
They tried three more shops, and Lucy hated the wellingtons in all of them. It wasn't until they got to the last shoe shop in town that she saw what she wanted.
‘But these are just ordinary wellingtons,' Mum said. ‘We've seen dozens of wellingtons just like them already.'
‘Not yellow ones,' Lucy said.
‘It doesn't matter what colour wellingtons are,' Dad said.
Lucy said, ‘Oh, but it does.'
It was getting close to the day of Madeleine's wedding, and the navy blue taffeta bridesmaid's dress was ready. Lucy agreed to try it on in the front room.
‘Hold still while I put the ribbons in,' Mum said.
Lucy held still, saying nothing. Mum put the ribbons in.
‘Now the sash,' she said.
Lucy held still while Mum tied the sash at the back.
‘Now take this,' Dad said, handing her the little basket that the flowers would go in.
Lucy took the basket, saying nothing.
‘Stand like this,' Dad said.
She stood like that, and he gave a happy little sigh.
‘Good,' Mum said.
‘Perfect, Poodlefish,' Dad said.
Dad gave Mum a kiss, turned and began to say, ‘I'm so pleased you're going to wear the …'
But the Poodlefish had gone. She had taken off the dress, and was already running upstairs in her vest and navy blue tights.
There was still one thing that Lucy hadn't been able to make. It was too difficult. But if she didn't have it, her whole plan wouldn't work. She didn't know what to do, and she was sitting in the middle of her bedroom floor thinking about i
t when Dad came in one evening to borrow some money.
‘I'll pay you back tomorrow,' he said, taking her piggy bank off the shelf.
Lucy liked lending money to Mum and Dad. They were always so pleased to get it.
‘Why are you always borrowing money, Dad?'
‘Well, Poodle, I'll tell you. Pubs don't accept cards.'
‘Why are you always going to pubs?'
Dad didn't seem to hear that. He rattled the piggy bank. ‘I'm not sure there's much in here,' he said. He shook out the coins and counted twenty-five pence, and frowned, and explored the piggy bank more deeply with his fingers.
‘Wait a second,' he said. ‘I think there's a note. Saved!'
There was, but it wasn't a bank note, it was a crumpled-up piece of paper with a message written on it.
‘Oh,' he said sadly. He read the note. It said, ‘IOU eight pounds, love Mum.'
‘She got here before me,' Dad said. ‘Eight pounds. I didn't know you had so much money, Poodle. Are you saving up for something?'
Lucy started to shake her head, then stopped. She began to smile.
Dad didn't notice. ‘Anyway,' he said thoughtfully. ‘Can I take the twenty-five pence?'
When he'd gone, Lucy said to Will, ‘Will, if I give you the money, will you buy something for me when you go into town with Dad to buy your new football boots?'
Will looked up from his Beano and made a noise like a parrot, and Lucy began to explain again what she wanted him to do.
The morning of Madeleine's wedding was beautiful: clear and cool and blue. Mum and Dad and Will and Lucy were getting ready. They were running late. The Quigleys were always running late.
‘We're late!' Dad shouted. Soon he would be breaking the family rules.
‘Can I wear my new football boots?' Will shouted from his room.
‘It's a wedding, Will,' Dad shouted from the bathroom. ‘Not the first round of the FA Cup.'
Will put on his crinkly blue shirt and his patterned waistcoat and his navy trousers with turn-ups. ‘Will this do?' he asked.