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Diane Samuels |
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Rex arrived late. Marlene was already waiting with the girls at the corner of the Planetarium (stupid place to arrange to meet of course, he realised, seeing her manouvre around the tail end of the ever-growing queue). Sadie was licking her fingers. Abi was sucking her thumb in the push chair. “Look. There’s zeida.” said Marlene, pointing as he walked briskly towards them from the tube exit. “Where’s your beard gone?” asked Sadie. Rex looked around, arms akimbo, at a loss. “If only I knew. If only I knew.” Sadie laughed. He continued. “You know, the strangest thing...I woke up this morning and it simply was not there. How can that be? Sadie, how can it be?” Sadie laughed some more. “A part of your face goes missing in the night? With no explanation? Is this possible? Perhaps you took it?” Sadie shook her head, “I didn’t take it.” “So what’s that all round your mouth if it isn’t my bristles?” Sadie stretched her tongue over her lips then swirled it around. “Well? Is that it?” enquired Rex. “It’s chocolate.” said Sadie, “You know it is.” “Who keeps chocolate on their face?” Sadie wiped with the back of her hand. “Has it all gone now?” “Like my beard. Yes.” Marlene passed Sadie a paper tissue from her pocket. “Just a little in the corner of your mouth, love.” Sadie wiped hard in case the chocolate became indelible. “Did you see the stars?’ asked Rex. “We sat in the chairs. They fell backwards. You had to pretend to be in a rocket.” Sadie was not one for suspending disbelief. “So you could try to imagine you were really travelling through space.” She sounded proud of herself for not being taken in by the ruse. All the while she was gravitating towards his side. Then she entwined her arm through his, leaning close, little sapling against a bamboo frame. “And was it at all like being in space?” he wondered. “Not really because you could breathe and you didn’t float.” Marlene mouthed behind Sadie’s head, “She loved it.” She looked like an undersea diver trying to get some meaning through a dense mass of water. “Are you hungry now?” he asked hoping that sustenance might give him some much-needed ballast. “I got a new skipping rope, zeida.” piped in Sadie determined to re-live the excitement of the perfect purchase. Also, of course, Rex could be relied upon to be more thrilled than she was. “A new skipping rope! Well.” he obliged. “Fluorescent and with lights.” “Fluorescent AND with lights?” he marvelled. The modern world was full of wonders. “Show him, granny.” “When we get to the park darling.” Marlene led the way. And so they set off, leaving behind the punters lined up like mannequins for the waxworks. It was easy enough to overtake the line of standstill traffic clogging the main road and not long before they neared the welcome elegance of the green space ahead. Nearly there. Still, Rex had to grab Sophie’s hand and put himself between her and the edge of the kerb. She had that habit of surging forward onto tarmac as if she deserved to roam wherever her feet decided to take her. They crossed over together safely and entered the park. He tried to ignore a little rumbling in the pit of his gut that continued gently to stir. The skipping rope excursion was not a massive success. This was, anyway, how Rex was to later to describe events to his agitated son-in-law. Sadie had set her heart on whizzing through air at record speed (98 without stopping was the figure to be topped). Aspiring with glee to transform herself into a human gyro, she’d ripped open the plastic box with the intent of a lion at the belly of freshly killed wildebeest. The rope, bound tight, had taken some prizing from the complex arrangement of cardboard innards. It had then needed to be loosed from its grip-clips of white plastic using Rex’s good-old-reliable Swiss army knife. At last the prize from their special trip to the Best Toyshop in England (“probably the best in the whole world actually.” according to Sadie on entering and later reluctantly being tugged from the store), began to unravel in her eager hands. Long and longer still, a snazzy cord of pure joy. Marlene realised before Sadie did: this fluorescent pink and green rope was a bit too much for one little girl to manage on her own. Sadie tried to skip. She tried hard. But she did not take off. Instead she found herself caught in a loop and going nowhere. Marlene attempted to put all to rights by applying various elaborate knotting systems to customize the length. These were met by Sadie with with a moan that expanded swiftly into sore complaint. Why hadn’t she brought her old skipping rope from home in her overnight bag and why hadn’t mummy let her and why couldn't she...... “Didn’t that have dog poo on it?” soothed Marlene. “And look at the way these handles flash when the rope turns.” It’d all be fine soon. It had to be. On this particular day, the delicate equilibrium must somehow be seen to be maintained. Disappointment was more than this granny, ever desperately securing the rope in on itself, could bear. Rex, meanwhile, sat back on the bench next to the sublime Abi in her push chair, carefully cleaning his nails with the mini manicuring device from the army knife. He concentrated with care on the tip of each of his square fingers. “Rex, dear, we’re having a few problems.” Marlene sounded almost matter of fact. Sadie was desperately trying to skip. But she had anyone could see that she had really entered into mortal combat with a piece of failing electric cable. “Shall granny and I take an end each and you skip between?” he volunteered. He may as well not have spoken. Sadie continued to struggle. Rex abandoned his thumb with a sigh. “Shall we put it away and get something to eat? Who's hungry?” Sadie pleaded “Can‘t we get a shorter proper rope now?” “The shop will be closed.” came Marlene ‘s reply. “I want to go home and get my other one.” “It’s all dirty.” “I want to go home.” Marlene hesitated, for a split second entertaining the possibility of actually driving all the way out to Radlett to rifle through the rubbish bins for her eldest grand-daughter’s shit-stained playrope. Sadie sensed the wavering. But Rex had also clocked Marlene’s moment of madness and he was not having any. “Let me have a good look at this.” He took up the item like a biologist acquiring a field sample. He examined it closely. “You want me to see what I can do after we’ve had our dinner?” Sadie couldn’t speak. Disappointment choked. Rex took the silence as agreement. “Good. That’s settled. We’ll have you up and skipping in no time. Now, let’s get home and eat.” He carefully wound the rope into a bundle and pocketed it. He shot a wink at Sadie. She relented, just. For the moment at least. Thank the lord he now had a little project for the evening. “Just a little walk to the car.” reassured Marlene. And off they trekked, Abi still napping, oblivious to the drama unfolding around her. The girls were both in bed by eight. Marlene was tired. After all, she had undertaken the lion’s share of the day’s childcare demands. She nestled into the corner of the cream settee, sipping her coffee and nibbling the circumference of a chocolate mint. “You think we should phone the hospital?” suggested Rex who was sucking deep on a premature cigar. “They won’t thank us." Marlene knew her daughter and when to keep clear. She sighed. “I have a cramp, you know.” “What sort of cramp?” He asked even though he could guess “A sympathy cramp.” “Better look at that skipping rope.” He left the lounge to Marlene for a moment. She popped the remaining nugget of minty choc right onto her tongue and sucked. Rex returned with the offending item. He sat, placed a piece of newspaper across his knees, took out his Swiss army knife, puffed a cigar puff and embarked on his operation. “Aaaah.” Marlene clutched her belly suddenly. “What?” Rex muttered. Marlene gripped the side of the arm chair. “I told you. Sympathy spasm. Although I think it’s early stages.” Rex looked at her and she back at him. She saw his face for the first time again, as she sometimes did when she forgot herself. “Oh Rexie, you’re not going to grow a beard again next winter are you?” “What do you mean? I always grow a winter beard.” “It makes you look like a dirty old tramp.” “Thank for your love and appreciation, darling.” “But you have such a lovely face.....” She wanted him to understand how much she meant this. “A face which needs some protection from the cold.” “What cold? We have central heating.” “Am I inside all the time?” “You’re inside enough of the time.....” “And I’m outside enough of the time.” “It’s got nothing to do with the cold.” And she was right. It hadn’t. “I have a serious procedure to undertake here . Excuse me from the conversation.” And he re-applied his surgically skilled eye and hands to the length of rope as if he were performing heart surgery within his grand-daughter’s open chest. Sadie was having a dream. It made her twitch in short bursts around the nose and eyes. Then the spasms spread down to her mouth. Whatever was going on within was gathering momentum. Now the neck and then the arms and hands. You’d think the lass was being electrocuted. Then she jolted suddenly awake. So confused. Her grey-green eyes expected to catch the white of the wardrobe opposite her bed. Only......not there. What had happened? The red, blue and yellow tulips on the curtains reminded her. Zeida’s and granny’s. The rope debacle came back with a punch. She jumped out of bed like a warrior called to action. Her rope. It was out there somewhere. She must go and find it. The house was at peace. She was a dainty thing, glided easily across the landing and down the stairs without disturbing the calm. Not a sound as she opened the front door. Who would ever guess that all this light-footed venturing was inspired by a typhoon of rage and disappointment. The well-lit street did not offer the right way forward. The common did. She knew a way through the fence just beyond the bus stop and slid through the gap where two planks were missing. And then she walked across the damp grass and odd strip of gravel, through the occasional bed of blooms guided by nothing around her and by everything deep inside towards the rope of eternal skipping. That no one unwelcome had made their way through the open front door was down to good luck as much as the salubrity of the neighbourhood. It was the milkman who sounded the alarm. Marlene heard the bell and picked up the phone automatically, “Melanie?” she asked into the dead receiver, “Has it come?” “It was the door.” murmured Rex in the way he did when he expected her to see to matters. Marlene donned her dressing gown. The milkman was no stranger to the pale green satin. She paid her bills in it every three weeks. “Everything alright?” he asked, “Only the door was open.” Marlene looked around for signs of intrusion. The hall was as kempt as ever. So were the living and dining rooms. The silver candlesticks were also in place. Nothing had been touched. And yet there was a sense of disturbance all the same. “Thank you.” Marlene closed the door properly and was attempting to persuade herself that she must have stupidly left off the latch when Abi called. The little one was all smiles. Marlene lifted the toddler out of the cot and lodged her chunky form into her own at the hip. Then she pulled open the tulip curtains to reveal a shining day. “Rex?” Marlene was standing over the bed talking to his incumbent back. “Rex.” He turned and squinted at her through heavy lids. “They’ll call when they’re ready. Don’t worry.” “It’s not that. It’s Sadie. I can’t find her.” “Have you tried the kitchen...the living room...?” “She’s not in the house.” Rex sat up, the duvet covering only half of him now. The grey hairs across his chest still curled sleepily. “She must be here.” “Rex, the front door was unlatched. I think she opened it....” Marlene raised her free hand to her face and rubbed the side of her cheek. “Rub it better, rub it better.” she had always said to her own children and now to theirs in turn. When did she last say those very words to Sadie? Rub it better, and it’ll all go away. Rex was tying the cord on his dressing gown. “She’s probably hiding.” Then the phone rang. It was the phone this time. Marlene surged towards it but Rex was nearer. “Malcolm.” He listened as his son in law told him that in the early hours of that morning Rex and Marlene’s eldest daughter had been delivered off...my god...he was joking...but it was....it was a boy. “A boy!!” Marlene nearly fell over. “Abi, you’ve got a little brother.” The word for this alien type of sibling stumbled rather clumsily off her tongue. Abi continued to rub her damp nose on Marlene’s nightie. “Let me tell Sadie myself.” said Mal through the receiver. Marlene held out her hand now free of her cheek to reveal that Sadie was nowhere on her person. Rex went automatically into fobbing-off mode as he did when faced by an anxious patient with an enquiry that required far too complex and technical an explanation. “Malcolm, we’re just getting up and she seems to be playing hide and seek or some such.” Marlene was shrugging fitfully in the middle of their bedroom like an Edwardian automaton entitled “Has Anyone Seen My......” And suddenly the panic rose in Rex too. “Oh, wait a sec, Mel’s hands are free now.” Mal suddenly informed him. “Dad?” It was Mel. “Darling.” “Isn’t it amazing?” she was tearful. Her daddy's voice was making her so. She was still his first-born. His out-spoken, tearaway. His daughter the doctor. If his flight/fight adrenalin level hadn’t been so high, he might have been weepy at this moment too. “Wonderful news, darling.” He must congratulate his daughter on the birth of her.....did they ever imagine such a thing was possible in their family.....son. “Mal says Sadie’s playing hide and seek?” asked the mother of three...or so she now thought. How appalling, in the event of this ending tragically, to lose the first now that she’d given so much effort to adding another. Rex was only too aware of this devastating possibility. But hey, he was a man who held vital organs in his hand as part of the working day. This situation was entirely retrievable. “She’s just wanted to play all the time. Never stopped.” “You can’t go and get her can you? Just for a minute?” Mel urged. “If we can find her.” said Rex trying to sound jovial. It was such a barrel of fun and games at their place. A riot. Mel suddenly felt guilty. “Has she been a handful?” “Not at all. Quite the opposite.” Abi broke the mounting tension with a burst of banter. Mel's antennae picked up the drivel immediately, “Let me say a quick hello to Abi-babble then.” And while Mel affirmed her love for her available child, Rex and Marlene celebrated the birth of the first male member of their family since Rex himself (he himself had four sisters) for generations, with a glance of such alarm that their faces blanched in unison. Hide and Seek had never been less of a pleasure nor more fruitless. Nowhere. The open door truly did portend what Marlene had feared. She pulled it wide and stood on the step in her dressing gown as if her very presence could compel the space beyond into yielding a clue. The terrain responded by yielding a horrible placid normality. Marlene stepped down the path and looked further. seeking a flaw, any chink in the familiar picture. No such thing. The world goes on, as we all know too well. Sometimes this can be a source of the most astonishing comfort. No solace for Marlene and Rex though on this day. Up and down the road now in search of traces, past the bus stop, past the loose planks, up to the post box then back again. “She could be anywhere.” Marlene was overwhelmed by how big a place her neighbourhood insisted on being. “Absolutely anywhere.” and that suddenly included the over the Edge of Beyond too. Marlene’s comforting hands took her face between them and allowed it a kind place to bury. Rub it better and it will all go away. The police officers were not strangers to this sort of thing. Children did vanish. And often they were retrieved. Of all the cases reported the vast majority ended “not in disaster.” These were the words the frizzy-haired police woman used. These words were not going to be music to the ears of Mel and Mal, Rex realised as he reversed into the first available space half a mile away from the hospital. The flower stall by the gates reminded him that he should be bearing gifts rather than ill-news. He paid out a couple of notes for a mass of lilies and remembered that there were usually stalls like these outside cemeteries. Mal looked tired but glad. He had never in a million years expected a son nor could he have predicted the welling in his hard-working heart when the fellow’s fresh little goolies had made an appearance. He was elated, actually. Well-chuffed. Yes. Wow. It was amazing. Then his father-in-law pressed a massive bouquet of flowers into his hands. He tried to be appreciative. “This is terrific, Rex. But you know we’re going home in a couple of hours. Don’t take offence. But it might have been better if you’d brought these to us there.” Rex immediately took back the bundle. Mal was getting confused now. “Weren’t you going to visit later this afternoon?” “There’s a problem.” Now the confusion was escalating. Was his father-in-law not here because he couldn’t bear to wait to see the little princeling? “Is it Sadie?” suddenly, with a whooshing flare, Mal’s daughter-love was rekindled. “She went out. In the night. We don’t know where she is.” “Out?” “Of the house.” “Shit.” Rex tried to put events into context. “She was upset about the skipping rope.....” And instantly both men conjured up in their separate minds’ eyes the same image: little Sadie lying on a bed of autumn leaves with the rope wrapped tightly round her squashed throat. No more fluorescence. No more flailing loops. “Shit. We should have said. We never thought....” Mal’s palm slapped against his own forehead. “Never thought what?” “We’ve found her at the latch. A number of times.” “Good grief.” “We should have told you.” “So you knew she might do this?”Rex felt the unbearable weight of guilt and responsibility lift like smog from his aching shoulders. “They’ll find her.” But Mal was already moving down the corridor to face the euphoric Mel. Mel steered the blame immediately and incontravertibly in one direction: at herself. As the source of her babies little lives, she was the guilty party. Why hadn’t she mentioned the latch incidents? Why hadn’t she sat down with Sadie for a proper talk before Rex and Marlene had picked her up? Why hadn’t she played more with Sadie in the last few months? Why had she been too tired too often? Why hadn’t she fed Sadie herself for longer in the first place? Why hadn’t she gone part-time earlier? Why had she ever, ever shouted at her even once? Only one person could rescue Sadie. That person whizzed into action. Mal and Rex remonstrated to no avail. Mel clutched little laddie to her chest and put on her cardigan, buttoning him under it. Then, still in her slippers, she headed out of the hospital. Mal ran after her. Rex went to the phone for words of instruction from Marlene, to report to her the latest developments, to find a sturdy alternative to the ground which was disintegrating to nothing beneath his suede lace-ups. “She’s gone after her.” was all he could say. The dual carriageway presented serious problems. Sadie opted for the underpass. There was writing on the walls. It smelt of wee. A man with orange hair was playing a guitar. He sat on a brown blanket with a name embroidered in red silk italics at the edge. Sadie wasn’t interested in the name which happened to be that of the guitarist’s elder brother who had fought in World War Two. H. E. Carver, said the edge of the blanket. What Sadie was interested in was the upturned top hat that sat on top of the blanket right beside his left elbow. It was spangly and glittery. “You like that hat?” The guitarist was rolling up a little white piece of paper very carefully into a little tube. “You want to put a coin in it for good luck?” Sadie showed her empty hands. “Too bad.” The guitarist put the tube between his lips and struck a match. “Can I try it on?” “If you’ll tell me what you’re doing out here in your nightie and no shoes.” This was not a question Sadie was prepared to answer. The guitarist took a long drag. “Where’s your mum?” “In the hospital.” “My mum’s in a hospital too.” “Why?” “She’s getting her dodgy eye seen to.” The guitarist picked up the topper with the sort of sleight of hand he usually reserved for card tricks. He held out the sequined beauty to the lassie before him. “Put it on if you like.” Oh she liked. In that moment Sadie toppled in love for the first time ever. And boy was she enough in love to more than let him place the tall hat gently on her head and push her hair back over her ears to set it off nicely. He parcelled his guitar in the blanket and pulled out a length of rope. Sadie didn’t even notice the rope. She was feeling the weight of the hat and wondering if his blind mother had eyes as blue and piercing as his. He expertly tied his length into a chain of knots safely securing his instrument within it’s woollen cocoon. Then the guitarist held out his hand to little Miss Top Hat. And he knew as well as she did that she would have let him lead her anywhere. Anywhere. Over the very edge of the world. “Why don’t we take you to a place where they’ve got a nice big mirror to show you how impressive you look.” Sophie nodded. The hat didn’t fall off. It liked it there. And so they ascended the stairs, the busker and his babe, to the hum of the two-way traffic above and thence towards the police station where Sadie’s restoration to the bosom of her newly-invaded family was presently at hand Winner of BBC Radio 4's short story competition, broadcast in 2002, read by Eleanor Bron. |