by Amy Lilwall
He played these last words on a loop, rubbing at his forehead, willing his brain to work out their meaning.
‘Sure we’ll see each other soon.’
He touched his desk and it transformed into a screen. ‘Sandra?’
‘Yes, Hamish.’
‘My last patient…’
‘Ms Emma Howards?’
‘Right… What slot has she taken for next week?’
‘She didn’t stop to arrange another appointment.’
Oh dear, where was she? Oh dear… Where was she?
Where was she. Where was she. Where was she.
Oh dear.
Oh dear oh dear.
She, she, she… breathed… very… qui-quickly. She, she, she, what was that? St-still br-breathing qui-qui-quickly her ha-hand felt someth-thing prickly. Like, like… If o-only she could s-see it was s-so dark. Wha-what was th-that prickly th-ing under her… Oh! This was all t-too mu-mu-much!
She covered her eyes with her hands as a funny hot feeling rose all the way up her body from her feet and bottom that were all squished together into a small space on the floor, to her elbows, shoulders, neck, face, it was… It was like getting into her bath. Except she wasn’t getting in the bath, the bath was crawling up her and if she hadn’t already been sitting down she would have had to sit down because her head was full of stuff that seemed to be heavier than her body. It made her feel sick. It made her eyes nudge little floaty white blobs all around the room; the room that she couldn’t see.
Room. It wasn’t a room. I-it w-was a b-b-box. A box. A box! She closed her eyes and breathed slowly… In and out, she thought to herself; in and out.
It was a box. She had seen the outside of it when he had put her in here. Even though she hadn’t tried, she was pretty sure that she couldn’t stand up. She had seen from the outside that it was too small to stand up in. And the prickly thing she had touched must have been the floor or a wall or something. She’d never touched this kind of floor or wall before, but she occasionally caught a noseful of a familiar smell, something from home, the big brown cupboard in the big She-one’s dressing room. Its door smelled of that same smell that was so different from the white shiny table and chairs in the dining room.
Oh. Her eyes felt hot as she thought of the big She-one. Then she thought of Chips’s humcoat left to hide under that dirty kitchen cupboard. And his flakes.
She lifted her hand and touched her hair.
And her pink flower had been left under there.
A-and after-ter that a, a, a, b-big h-hand w-was around h-her! Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh dear. Br-breathe! In and out. In and out. In and out. The bath rose around her again, washed its white shapes through her eyes then sank back down.
And what had he called her? Tilda? Who was Tilda? That wasn’t her name. Why would he call her that if it wasn’t her name? She’d opened her mouth to tell him ‘that’s not my name!’ but the sound wouldn’t come out… Then she had screamed ‘Chip! Chips!’ but his name couldn’t be screamed. She was in biggerer hands, and they were walking through the hallway and he was doing that thing that made Bonbon’s ears go red, and he was saying that he was sorry, he was sorry for crying but he thought he’d never see her again! ‘I thought I’d never see you again!’ He kept saying it and stroking her hair with his finger as he climbed the stairs. ‘I’m not Tilda!’ she tried to scream again but it was stuck, her mouth could only make the shapes of the words. ‘It’s alright, Tilda. Nearly there,’ he said, putting her onto his shoulder. ‘Hop up there instead; I’m frightened that I’ll squeeze you,’ he said. ‘You always told me that I didn’t know my own strength.’ But ‘up there’ was quite wobbly. She had to put her hands in his beard to hold on and it smelled of… Well… Not nasty, but unclean, and as he went up and up the stairs she looked down and saw the hallway getting smaller and tried one last time to call for Chips.
Nothing.
As they got to the top, she looked towards where they were walking and noticed a tiny picture up on the wall… That was strange. She didn’t know why but… but she couldn’t stop staring at it, and as they turned onto the landing, her head turned all the way around so that her eyes could still see it and stare at it until they turned into a room and it was gone.
They entered the room and Blankey felt herself calm down; just a tiny bit. Maybe because she’d been busy looking at the picture. Or maybe because the room was lovely. Although it wasn’t very clean. The air smelled like it had been trapped there for a long time. Pink shiny cushions stood one in front of the other on two low armchairs with curvy white legs. One enormous mirror leaned against the wall between the two chairs, flowers furry with dust peeked over the edge of its frame. Dangly, twisty, white curtains that she could almost see through hung over the bed and one of them was clipped back with a plastic rose. A pair of fluffy slippers, like her own humcoat but made from pink cats, stood in front of a white skinny-legged table with a lamp hanging over it. The lamp was made of glass leaves that cupped a dimming light. She would have thought it was lovely, if a bit dusty, had she not been so scared. ‘I made it just how you wanted it,’ said the beard. Then he told her that he would only put her in the box for a minute, just for a minute – he just didn’t want to lose her again, oh no, he couldn’t bear to lose her again. His Tilda. His lovely Tilda… And the box was shut. Then there were footsteps. Then the door was shut, and as she re-thought these thoughts now, inside the dark and prickly box, the door clicked open.
Oh dear, thought Blankey. Oh dear, oh dear. ‘I’m not…’ she managed to say, her voice dying as the box was reopened and two hairy eyes blinked in.
‘Tilda,’ he said, the eyes disappearing behind a reaching hand.
CHAPTER 7
Jinx woke up first. She rolled over and looked at Bonbon, wondering what her first words would be when she opened her eyes. Now that she’d had a good night’s sleep, she should be feeling better; she should, well, be back to normal. Jinx thought of the day with the angora cushion and the rose petals… She had been quite nice that day too, because she was poorly. But, she hadn’t cried. Although she might have cried, if Jinx hadn’t found her somewhere nice to sleep. That must’ve been what had happened last night, she was so poorly and sleepy; she just wanted to sleep.
But she was getting better. That’s why she had come home with that thing on the side of her head. It was making her better.
Her lovely Bonbon. Jinx would just look at Bonbon for a moment because she was sure that in no time she’d get up and start giving her orders for the day.
Now what day was it, stone day? String day? Jinx couldn’t even remember. Everything had become so mixed up since Bonbon had been away…
Jinx held out her finger; if she poked Bonbon then she might start to wake up, and then she could ask her how she was feeling. But then again, she didn’t want her to wake up. She just wanted to watch her. It would have been nice if, today, when Jinx asked her to stay in bed for just a little bit longer, she would stay. And they would have a nice cuddle.
As the word ‘cuddle’ echoed in her head, two littlers appeared, sinking onto a dirty floor… Chips! She remembered hunting around his kitchen for a humcoat, then lying on the floor, then his big he-one came in and scared her away… His big he-one was much scarier than her big She-one. With his face all hairy like that, and, and so tall that she couldn’t see the top of him.
Yes, she thought, all of that hadn’t been something that had only happened on the inside of her head.
‘A dream,’ said the inside of her head.
Yes. It hadn’t been a dream.
Oh well, maybe today they’d finally get to have their Big Cuddle, properly. He would come into the yard later and she would go out to see him straight away and then… And then they would talk about his big he-one. And they might even laugh a bit because the same thing had happened to both of them; they’d both been scared away by the other one’s big-one. And then she might hold his hand for a while… She liked that. That was nice. And
maybe… Bonbon! Bonbon was waking up!
Bonbon sat up straight as she usually did, looked out of the basket at the bowls – as she usually did – saw that they were both empty and started to get out of the basket.
As she usually did.
‘It’s early, Bonbon, why don’t you stay here for a minute?’
Bonbon looked back at Jinx with her face all screwed up and Jinx was sure that she would say ‘no’, which was nicer than normal; normally she just ignored her and got out anyway.
‘Alright,’ she said, falling back into the basket, picking up Jinx’s arm and flopping it over her as she snuggled into Jinx’s side.
Jinx opened her mouth and eyes really wide, wanting to let out a big squeaky sound but instead, so as not to make the cuddle all noisy, she danced her eyes really fast.
That was the first time ever that Bonbon had stayed.
It was like yesterday, in the Outside, when Bonbon had just walked up to her and thrown her arms around her and… Jinx closed her mouth and let her eyebrows droop.
It was like yesterday.
That meant that she was still weird.
That meant that Bonbon wasn’t better.
They lay like that for a while, then: ‘Aren’t you hungry, Bonbon?’
‘The bowls are empty.’
‘Oh.’ Jinx pursed her lips. ‘Should we kick the bowls?’
Bonbon was quiet for a moment. ‘Alright,’ she said, rolling out of the cuddle and making to leave the basket.
All right? Just like that, everything was all right? This was silly. It wasn’t up to Jinx to say things like that; Bonbon should say something like, ‘Well, I suppose one of us has to kick the bowls,’ or, ‘First it’s cuddles, then it’s flakes. You always change your mind, Jinx. You’re such a selfish rat.’
‘Why do you always kick the bowls, Bonbon?’ she said. Then jammed her eyes shut.
Bonbon stopped, one leg over the side of the basket. ‘You can do it if you want to…’
‘No!’ Jinx opened her eyes. ‘I mean, it’s not fair on you!’
‘Oh,’ said Bonbon. ‘It doesn’t really matter who does it as long as it’s done.’
That was a little better. Just a little bit. Jinx thought for a moment. ‘Well, let’s not do it at all. Let’s just wait for one of the biggerers to get up.’ Ha! That was really, um, really… That would make her cross.
‘Contrary,’ said the inside of her head.
Bonbon scratched her jaw. ‘We don’t usually do things like that.’ She glanced at the bowls then back at Jinx.
Yes, that was more like it. ‘No, we don’t, Bonbon.’
‘But, alright.’ Bonbon flopped back into the basket.
Jinx puffed out her cheeks with air then slowly blew it out.
Bonbon laughed at her.
Now, that was nice. It was nice to see Bonbon laughing. It was so rarely that Bonbon laughed.
‘Why did you do that?’ Bonbon nodded towards the bottom half of Jinx’s face.
‘Don’t you think,’ she began, ‘don’t you think that first it’s cuddles, then it’s flakes? I’m always changing my mind because I’m a selfish rat?’
Bonbon hugged her knees. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t think that. I know that I used to think things like that, but I don’t today and I don’t know why.’ She opened her mouth and bit down on one of her knees.
Oh… Jinx understood that. She understood feeling different every day. Sometimes she felt different two or three times in one day. In fact, usually she felt different because Bonbon was nice to her. Or nasty to her. But Bonbon… Bonbon was always the same. Someone must have been nasty to her while she was away. Something must have changed her.
‘Has someone been nasty to you?’ asked Jinx.
Bonbon was quiet. She didn’t really know the answer to that. She didn’t think so but, but something in her head answered Jinx’s question. ‘Yes,’ it said. ‘Something has been very nasty.’
Jinx had a thought: ‘Maybe it’s because of that thing?’
Bonbon put her hand to her ear. She’d, sort of, forgotten about the white cushion thing. A picture came together inside her head: she was lying down with the big She-one and the doctor standing over her. ‘Does she get grumpy?’ asked the doctor. ‘That’s what’s causing it.’ Yes! She remembered now, those words had definitely been said.
‘You’re right, Jinx,’ still holding her ear. ‘I remember now… This thing is curing my grumpiness.’
‘Really?’ staring at the thing. Could it really do that? ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, I remember the conversation; the whole thing is on the inside of my head.’ As soon as she had said it, another thing appeared. The rows and rows of at least twenty littlers, who were all suffering from grumpiness as well.
Jinx felt pleased.
Or did she…?
Yes, yes, she did because at least they knew why Bonbon had changed. And Bonbon was much nicer now, but… This was a big change. It was as if, as if she were a brand new littler. It meant that the old Bonbon was gone, forever. Did it? Did it mean that?
‘Do you have to keep that thing on forever?’
No answer.
Jinx had another thought: ‘And, if you take it off, what will… I mean… Will you be grumpy again?’
‘I don’t know,’ Bonbon said, really quietly, before turning her body so that she was in the corner of the basket, still hugging her legs, not looking at Jinx. ‘Think yourself lucky, last month it was breast reduction… Then it was rib removal…’ The sentence went around and around, like Jinx when she chased her own shadow. That couldn’t have been a good thing to say, the breast reduction thing, now that an open breast sprawled inside her head like a pink and yellow flower; where had that picture come from? She had never even seen an open breast. It made her feel sure that something more horrible could have happened to her if… if she had been poorly last month. And she was also sure that she could work all of this out with the inside of her head, as if what happened in there was like, well, another littler, an older littler who could answer Jinx’s questions and who knew so much about the outside world, and helped her with it from the inside of her head.
That was exactly what it was like.
She began to suck the top of her knee again.
That’s what she would do today. She would spend time with this littler, this littler who lived on the inside of her head, and they would work out everything that had happened to her while she had been away, and then she would decide what she thought about it.
‘Are you hungry, Bonbon?’ She’d gone all weird again, thought Jinx. ‘You’re eating your own knee.’
Bonbon looked up. Saliva was running down her leg, but she could only feel it when it got to her shin, when it had had the chance to cool down.
‘What day is it today, Bonbon?’
Bonbon looked confused. ‘Today.’
‘No, I mean, is it paper day, feather day, string day?’
‘Oh… I can’t remember.’ And then: ‘I don’t really feel like it today…’ She closed her mouth, then reopened it to eat her knee.
Jinx climbed out of the basket and headed for the bowls. If this was what that stupid ear-thing was doing to her, then she didn’t like it. In fact, it was the most horrible thing ever. She kicked her bowl as she thought the word ‘ever’ then sat on the side of it and waited.
And waited.
It was so late. The room was really, really bright now. Usually they were given their flakes while it was still a bit grey, and a bit cold; even when it was the day after Saturday.
She kicked the bowl again, this time sitting on the side of the bowl that was facing the kitchen door. It was closed. She was hungry. She’d sent most of her flakes away with Blankey in the blue tube. Stupid Blankey. Oh wait, no, it wasn’t properly closed. It was just open; a thick black line stood straight against the length of the door, proving its openness. Jinx jumped up.
‘Bonbon, I’m just going…’ She stopped. She didn’t k
now where she was going, actually. She walked towards the basket, her mouth stuck in the shape of ‘going’. She couldn’t go upstairs, they just didn’t do that. The inside of her head told her that she was looking for food; but she couldn’t go looking for food, because there wasn’t any in the rest of the house. ‘But that is what you are going to do,’ said the inside of her head.
That was silly!
‘Yes,’ said the inside of her head, ‘but you can’t just sit here and die.’
She looked down at Bonbon in the bottom of the basket. Feathers and stones and string and AstroTurf and paper and fluff tumbled from the top to the bottom of the inside of her head, like the water tumbled out of that… that thing where the water came from. They were useless, useless, all of those things. The bottom of the basket was much nicer without them…
‘Bonbon, I’m going to go and look for something to eat,’ said Jinx. ‘Even though I won’t find anything.’ She thought of Bonbon with a cuddle-full of feathers. ‘Even though it’s useless.’
Bonbon slurped. ‘Alright,’ she said quietly, still staring straight ahead of her. She understood Jinx, she understood perfectly needing to go and be busy with something; building something, collecting something. She would’ve done the same, probably. Would have… before…
Once out in the hallway, Jinx stopped. She had heard a rumbling noise. It was long; in fact, it was so long that it didn’t stop at all. But there was another funny noise that went with it… Dum dum dum dum dum dum dum dum dum – it was all the time, and very quick like, like clapping hands. Jinx clapped her hands, just to make sure, pulling her mouth into an upside-down grin because that’s what her mouth did when she clapped her hands quickly.
It was coming from the big room, and Jinx could see that the living-room door was sort of open. Where there was a black line on the kitchen door, the big-room door had one that was made of grey and sunlight. She went over to the line and put one eye against it. Was that? Was that the She-one? It could have been… She looked like she was running, yes, the noise-that-was-as-fast-as-clapping was the sound of her feet as they touched the floor; but, where was she going? Jinx screwed up her face… She was going nowhere. Why would she run to go nowhere?